The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Dear Idiot,



I understand that there is a certain degree of brainlessness required to constantly be surprised by the inevitable, and I do sympathize with the fact that you are socially retarded, and that this is a direct result of socially retarded genes and thus not entirely your fault.



However, I am going to credit you with having more than a two second memory. As such, I am going to assume that you remember the 364 days before this one in which it also rained, and I am going to assume you remember that you do, in fact, live in Ireland, where the weather patterns aren't going to alter themselves any time soon.



Perhaps logic eludes you, so let me spell it out for you. Open-toed high heels and a short strapless dress are not and never will be appropriate rain attire, and no, shrieking loudly will not alter this fact nor make the rain stop. Making dying mouse noises and holding your arms over your head does not qualify as some sort of modern-day rain-dance, but it is totally fucking annoying. It is also not, contrary to popular socially-retarded belief, cute or endearing.



So shut the fuck up and stand there like a normal human being. Rain is not acid. It will not age you, kill you, or ruin your tan.



Sincerely,



Evren

Dear Idiot,



I fully understand that you wish to park in the spot I am vacating. I am capable of utilizing my rear-view mirror, and trust me, I do see you there.



Now, perhaps you study and believe in the theory of alternate universes, where matter has no physical dimensions, or can disappear and reappear wherever you want it to be.



However, as I'm sure you'll be surprised to hear, the ass of my car does not occupy such a universe. It occupies a physical one, where it is made of solid matter and has something called a "size."



Furthermore, the solid matter that is the ass of my car needs a certain amount of something called "space" in which to back up, and as I'm sure you know, this space is measured in "units" or "increments."



And as we occupy this physical universe of ours and not any other, there are certain physical impossibilities, one of which is backing up out of my spot with six fucking inches behind me.



SO! Get that manic look off of your face, back your fucking car up, and let me out. Otherwise we can stay here all day. Go ahead, I'll wait.



Sincerely,



Evren