Over our years together, Team Last Call has managed to piss off a wondrous variety of people.
We've received hate mail from a staggering cross-section of society, from members of the local government to doctors and lawyers to – from the looks of one letter – what we're assuming was either an angry toddler with a good understanding of conservative politics, or an angry conservative with the vocabulary and judgment of a toddler. Which we realize is redundant.
Most of the hate mail we receive is from one of three groups: Hummer drivers, republicans or people who actually listen to Nickelback on purpose. Put them all together, and you've got one big, seething, over-compensating, bad-taste-having group of people. Who can't spell.
Over the past few years, we've been called just about every name in the book. Some we appreciate more than others, if only because they at least show a little imagination.
Some of the more noteworthy ones include:
"Creepy Nazi freak."
"A hate monger and a criminal."
"A very small person with a very dark, hateful heart."
And our personal favorite:
"A gay."
Now, you might be thinking, "What is wrong with these people? I personally find Team Last Call witty, hilarious, illuminating and, above all else, really, really good-looking."
Thanks. We couldn't agree more. But we do have to admit that, with the possible exception of "a gay," we probably earned most of those names. We have a big mouth, and we know it. The way we figure it, if you're going to sit there poking a bear with a stick, you kind of have to accept some responsibility for the mauling to follow.
The problem is not that Team Last Call is mean. The problem is that we don't have an "off" switch. When we see something that deserves to be made fun of, we're drawn to it like Larry Craig to a bathroom stall.
We're not "out to get" anyone in particular, unless that person is evil, practices evil things or supports evil people who practice evil things. You know, Wal-Mart, Haliburton, Steelers fans – those kinds of people. Our motto is, "Hey, man, stop being evil or we will totally write jokes about you."
Apart from that, our main goal each month is simply to make lots and lots of jokes. Sometimes those jokes involve poking the bear. But other times, it's totally the bear's fault. For example, if that bear comes rolling down our street in a Hummer with a "Support Our Troops" sticker on the back, we really don't have any choice but to fire away. The joke is already there, right in front of our eyes. It's a punchline on wheels, getting ironically funnier with each gallon of gas it sucks down. We're not even writing the joke here. All we're doing is putting the joke into print. We are but vessels.
That being said, there is no easier way of writing a new column than by reprinting and making fun of our hate mail. We couldn't even tell you how many times we've been sitting at our computer, staring at a blank screen mere hours from our deadline when, like manna from heaven, into our inbox pops a little gem of incoherent meanness long enough to account for a good third of our word count. To the barely literate writers of those letters, we have this to say: thank you.
It is with that in mind that we would like to present you with Team Last Call's first annual Poke The Bear List, which involves a number of volatile subjects that we're sure will open up the minds of our readers, provoke discussion and, most importantly, make it much, much easier for us to reach our word count in future months.
We'll start with Hummer drivers, a favorite subject of ours if for no other reason that the fact that they, above all other readers, have so often shown their willingness to eschew things like spelling and grammar in favor of good, old-fashioned vitriol. Where would Team Last Call be today without such column fodder as, "If your [sic] not gay, then you have an inordinate fondness of the male genitalia"?
Clearly, it would be a pity to let this dialogue dry up. So, let's see … how about: Scientific studies show that people who drive Hummers are hung like gnats and, if their [sic] not gay, have an inordinate fondness for Larry Craig. Respond.
Next comes Nickelback, the Jerry Bruckheimer film of bands. These perm-haired knuckle-draggers represent the absolute lowest common denominator in music. They've taken art to a drooling, castrated, monkey-brained level that is only useful to the sexually confused jocks of red-state America who need a distraction from the fact that the towel boy makes them feel all tingly between their legs. Discuss.
Next we'll discuss the idiot developer who is lobbying to build a Wal-Mart location within our city's limits. This is the worst idea ever. Let's use a metaphor to illustrate:
Imagine that the city is your face, and that the developer is a plastic surgeon. Now imagine that the plastic surgeon is asking permission to purchase part of your face in order to build a gigantic ass on it. That is essentially what this numbnuts is proposing. Just imagine how many downtown shops a Wal-Mart would run right out of business. With this guy in town, it's clear that the last thing our city needs is another ass-face. Respond.
We'll conclude with the most obvious item on our list: George Bush. This one is such a no-brainer that it almost seems silly to write about it. Saying you don't like President Bush is like saying you're mad at Satan, or that you've had it up to here with theft and murder. It's just sort of implied. So instead of coming up with some kind of clever rant, we'll simply direct you to a helpful video that ably illustrates our feelings about ol' Dubya: Do a Google search for "asshole" and click on the first result.
OK, that's about all of the meanness we've got in us for the month. Now, for the love of God, let's see those letters. We took the time to make up a bunch of insults; the least you can do is return the favor. Ass-faces.
We've received hate mail from a staggering cross-section of society, from members of the local government to doctors and lawyers to – from the looks of one letter – what we're assuming was either an angry toddler with a good understanding of conservative politics, or an angry conservative with the vocabulary and judgment of a toddler. Which we realize is redundant.
Most of the hate mail we receive is from one of three groups: Hummer drivers, republicans or people who actually listen to Nickelback on purpose. Put them all together, and you've got one big, seething, over-compensating, bad-taste-having group of people. Who can't spell.
Over the past few years, we've been called just about every name in the book. Some we appreciate more than others, if only because they at least show a little imagination.
Some of the more noteworthy ones include:
"Creepy Nazi freak."
"A hate monger and a criminal."
"A very small person with a very dark, hateful heart."
And our personal favorite:
"A gay."
Now, you might be thinking, "What is wrong with these people? I personally find Team Last Call witty, hilarious, illuminating and, above all else, really, really good-looking."
Thanks. We couldn't agree more. But we do have to admit that, with the possible exception of "a gay," we probably earned most of those names. We have a big mouth, and we know it. The way we figure it, if you're going to sit there poking a bear with a stick, you kind of have to accept some responsibility for the mauling to follow.
The problem is not that Team Last Call is mean. The problem is that we don't have an "off" switch. When we see something that deserves to be made fun of, we're drawn to it like Larry Craig to a bathroom stall.
We're not "out to get" anyone in particular, unless that person is evil, practices evil things or supports evil people who practice evil things. You know, Wal-Mart, Haliburton, Steelers fans – those kinds of people. Our motto is, "Hey, man, stop being evil or we will totally write jokes about you."
Apart from that, our main goal each month is simply to make lots and lots of jokes. Sometimes those jokes involve poking the bear. But other times, it's totally the bear's fault. For example, if that bear comes rolling down our street in a Hummer with a "Support Our Troops" sticker on the back, we really don't have any choice but to fire away. The joke is already there, right in front of our eyes. It's a punchline on wheels, getting ironically funnier with each gallon of gas it sucks down. We're not even writing the joke here. All we're doing is putting the joke into print. We are but vessels.
That being said, there is no easier way of writing a new column than by reprinting and making fun of our hate mail. We couldn't even tell you how many times we've been sitting at our computer, staring at a blank screen mere hours from our deadline when, like manna from heaven, into our inbox pops a little gem of incoherent meanness long enough to account for a good third of our word count. To the barely literate writers of those letters, we have this to say: thank you.
It is with that in mind that we would like to present you with Team Last Call's first annual Poke The Bear List, which involves a number of volatile subjects that we're sure will open up the minds of our readers, provoke discussion and, most importantly, make it much, much easier for us to reach our word count in future months.
We'll start with Hummer drivers, a favorite subject of ours if for no other reason that the fact that they, above all other readers, have so often shown their willingness to eschew things like spelling and grammar in favor of good, old-fashioned vitriol. Where would Team Last Call be today without such column fodder as, "If your [sic] not gay, then you have an inordinate fondness of the male genitalia"?
Clearly, it would be a pity to let this dialogue dry up. So, let's see … how about: Scientific studies show that people who drive Hummers are hung like gnats and, if their [sic] not gay, have an inordinate fondness for Larry Craig. Respond.
Next comes Nickelback, the Jerry Bruckheimer film of bands. These perm-haired knuckle-draggers represent the absolute lowest common denominator in music. They've taken art to a drooling, castrated, monkey-brained level that is only useful to the sexually confused jocks of red-state America who need a distraction from the fact that the towel boy makes them feel all tingly between their legs. Discuss.
Next we'll discuss the idiot developer who is lobbying to build a Wal-Mart location within our city's limits. This is the worst idea ever. Let's use a metaphor to illustrate:
Imagine that the city is your face, and that the developer is a plastic surgeon. Now imagine that the plastic surgeon is asking permission to purchase part of your face in order to build a gigantic ass on it. That is essentially what this numbnuts is proposing. Just imagine how many downtown shops a Wal-Mart would run right out of business. With this guy in town, it's clear that the last thing our city needs is another ass-face. Respond.
We'll conclude with the most obvious item on our list: George Bush. This one is such a no-brainer that it almost seems silly to write about it. Saying you don't like President Bush is like saying you're mad at Satan, or that you've had it up to here with theft and murder. It's just sort of implied. So instead of coming up with some kind of clever rant, we'll simply direct you to a helpful video that ably illustrates our feelings about ol' Dubya: Do a Google search for "asshole" and click on the first result.
OK, that's about all of the meanness we've got in us for the month. Now, for the love of God, let's see those letters. We took the time to make up a bunch of insults; the least you can do is return the favor. Ass-faces.
