It said, “Laura your head is up your ass.”
And, on the off chance I didn't understand what this was hinting at, the author had the foresight to illustrate, in graphic detail, exactly what s/he meant.
(Who knew that “having your head up your ass” really means licking your own defecating asshole? Thanks for clarifying!)
I'm no stranger to hate mail. I've been editing the letters at the Alibi since I started working here, up until just a few weeks ago. I've seen every type of hate mail there is, from witty and calculated stabs at the intended recipient's jugular, to cheap, two-bit pot-shots to insane, hand-written notes flung wildly in any direction that, if actually landed, might cause some damage.
This is clearly an example of the latter. Only this one involves my naked ass. And, classically, it is unsigned.
See, if the writing is any good, the author will usually sign their name to it … and then ask for it to be withheld later. Sometimes they ask for a retraction of the letter altogether. These are the drunk typers. You've heard of drunk dialers? Well, these guys get lit up and pen scathing letters to the editor. The Alibi, The Journal, The New York Times—no publication is too large or too insignificant to bend an ear to these peoples' acid-tongued annoyance with its guardians. The only problem is, once the drunk wears off, so does their courage. That's when the names start peeling off of my answering machine.
They all sound something like this:
Beeeeeep. “Uh … yes … My name is *** ******, and I wrote a letter to you guys yesterday? I was a little—whooooo!—a little tipsy, a little angry, when I wrote that. And I was, uh, hoping that you wouldn't publish my name … with the letter. I'd prefer to be anonymous.”
Wow—anonymity. Must be nice! Too bad I can't use that one on you guys.
“Uhhh … hey, guys! Look, last week was a little off for me. My writing was, uh, a little patchy there. Maybe you could, uh, overlook the fact that I wrote anything at all? I'd be really appreciative.”
Anyhow, here's the anatomy of a creepy hate-mailer, just in case you'd like to send me some trash talk of your own.
Cowardice: Just because I'm stupid enough to sign my own name to my opinions doesn't mean you should be, too. After all, accountability is only valuable when you're trying to push it on someone else. Note that my hate-mailer took special pains to conceal his/her identity by ripping the Animal Humane Association return-address sticker off his/her envelope. Nice kitten, you ass wipe.
Creepy Handwriting: I'm not sure why, but scrawled and/or loopy child-like handwriting is a must for malcontents. Here, the author's juvenile script is accentuated even more through the use a sharpie permanent marker. Excellent choice, you creep!
Sarcastic well-wishing: This is very important. Nothing puts the sting into your insult like mock concern for the other person's wellbeing. Something along the lines of, “You suck. Have a nice day!” will do the job famously. In this instance, my hate-mailer has employed an unorthodox and cunning Trojan Horse method by reversing the order of the two. “Happy New Year. Laura your head is up your ass.” Brilliant, you turd!
Send your hate mail to:
Laura Marrich:
2118 Central SE, PMB 151
Albuquerque, NM 87106
