dear punk rock hippie shitdick,
i know you had to pencil in a few hours of a break between tattooing archaic symbols that mean nothing to you and also your drum circle to take time to go shopping at the bins, but it is not an excuse to be a complete dick. i’m sure you were just looking for some sweet shit to sell so you can afford tickets to burning man, but leave your fucking capitalist bullshit at the door and give me those boots you took from me. also fuck you and fuck your politics, faker. cut off your dreads and get a job where your obvious skill at being a superwiener makes sense.
love,
miranda
