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Saturday, January 15, 2011

I Know Literature!



Dear anonymous Baltimore girl who was recently on the receiving end of a classic manic fish rant,

Noticably, I was very tongue tied when you told me you were getting your Master's in English. Maybe it was my .26+ BAC. But I just wanted to let you know, now that I’m sober and not still heartbroken over the Ravens playoff defeat at Heinz Field, that a master's degree in English literature from presumably Towson, Maryland, or College of Nortre Dame does not make you a scholar of literature. It does not give you poetic license to make these words "you're fat white trash." your very first to me or any another complete stranger. It does not impress me, unless you're for real (which I doubt) and you're getting your master's from Georgetown, GW, or Hopkins.
Your family clearly has a lot of money. You were rolling with a Boys Latin Laker. You went to an all girl's prep school in Baltimore. And you were a pretty huge cunt, even for a Baltimore girl, so I'm guessing you went to St. Paul's. You born rich and you will stay rich. But if my fat white trash ass ever runs into you again, it will be taking dead aim at your pretensiousness, exposing the empty core behind it, and filling it with unsung treasures. Just remember your dad can buy you anything, including an education from overpriced wasps nests, but he cannot prevent me from taking a huge shit on your Master's Degree.

Signed,

Tommy Cicero