A Letter To The Muther Fuckers That Stole My Jeep

Dear Muther Fuckers Who Stole My Jeep-
I hope you are enjoying the 1989 Jeep Cherokee that I bought with my hard earned money seven years ago. I hope that you are also enjoying the mixes I made on my Ipod whilst you are driving MY fucking Jeep around East Austin. Please check out 'Gas Station Quarters' or 'Christmas In Heat', two, may I dare say, completely bad ass, top flight mixes I made to rock out to while I was tooling around town. Or even my generically titled 'Austin Mix' for the gym. You are impressed are you not, Mr. Muther Fuckers? I hope you are enjoying the good brakes and clean interior and notice the poster for my show, AMERICAMISFIT, laying on the backseat. I could get you a two for one ticket price this weekend if you like, Muther Fuckers. It's a damn fine show and I know you would be intrigued. I also hope you enjoy the clean scent provided by my Virgin Mary scented air freshner. Funny, right? Cuz that's what ole' T-Dawg is, if nothing else, a funny, funny man.

In fact,I hope you are so impressed with the wicked bad assness of my ole' beat up Jeep that you spontaneoulsy combust from all the excitement and then die a fiery death at the hands of that real bitch, karma. I also hope that when this happens you had the foresight to remember to wear clean underwear! Don't embarass your mother, Muther Fuckers! What would Mother Muther Fucker say if she knew you weren't wearing clean undies when you spontaneously combusted while driving another man's car? You were raised better than that! Come on, Muther Fuckers!

My opening night is tonight and you have already guranteed me one hella bad case of nerves. I will definitely be wearing a clean pair of underwear. Because you see, Muther Fuckers, I know for a fact that I was raised right. Unlike you, you cuntsnakelowdowndirtyassfuckingbendajo. Pardon me. I digress.

So, to wrap up:Messieurs Muther Fucker, go fuck yourselves.

Yours truly and sincerely,

T-Dawg