Fuck Off!! Random Hate Mail

*Monie lifts her hands to the sky, and mouths to God “Why?”*

*God shrugs and mouths back “Why not? I love you, now go make your misery someone else’s laughter*

*Mo nods*
And so...

Dear Dr. D___,

I know you see vagina all day, so it aint nothing new to you. However, I’m kinda private about mine. Was it really necessary for your student assistant to be in there while you were doing my Pap smear? I’ve never had an audience before, and to be quite frank, I didn’t like that shit. I do appreciate your thoroughness though. When you asked if any of my other doctors ever told me I had “bulging eyes”, demanded that I swallow , and went on to say that you were going to test my thyroid for Graves disease I didn’t know how to take it.** Something tells me you doing me wrong like this because I have HIP Medicaid. Second class citizen, I am not. Neither is my vagina.

I still feel some kind of way. Next time, lets handle the shit one-on-one. And if you could give me the birth control I requested, that'd be kinda nice too. Thanks Dr. D___, for making my week. :(

Dear BET,

Ya’ll need to do better. Like, really need to do better. This “Played by Fame” business, that “Welcome to Dreamland” shitastrophe-- pure fuckery. Why couldn’t ya’ll pick up The Game from CW? Or give Uncle Jeff a show; one that displays that Black folks have sense? I don't appreciate seeing this type of coonery on what is supposed to be "Black Entertainment Television". When you create shitty shows like this, it sets us back . My calculations say 25 years per shitty show. Let's add it up:

Played by Fame: 25
Hell Date: 25
Welcome to Dreamland: 25
Keyshia Cole: The Way It Is (as much as I hate to say it): 100 years [50 for Neffe, 50 for Frankie]
That's 175 years. Do you know what that means?

The touch, the feel of cotton is more than the fabric of our lives.
Think about it. Again. Do better.

( Thank God for Harlem Heights. It's the one program that doesn't scream "Sambo")
Ps- stop running Menace II Society, State Property II, ATL, and Diary of a Mad Black Woman. I done had it up to here.

Dear Forever 21,

You cuntywhores, you!! I hate your exchange policy. Your accessories and bags ain’t shit. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have your handbag fall off your arm in the streets…when it was the first time you’ve ever even rocked it? Then you tell me you can’t refund me because “it’s against store policy??” Go suck your mother!! When I bought the piece-of-shit bag I was under the impression that it would add a bit of joy to my life and oomph to my wardrobe, but I was wrong. I rebuke you, Forever 21.

Dear Dan @ Associates Visa,
I hope you wake up tomorrow with morning wood and piss in your own face. Why would you give me a shitty ass deal, offering to lower my interest rate, and “forget” to disclose that if I accepted I’d be incurring late fees and over the limit fees? Why, Dan? That’s fucked up. I’ll be calling back again tomorrow w/ my “lawyers” on the line. And a refund to my bank account is so in order. Go suck your grandmother through a straw, Dan.

Dear Jerimih,

Or whatever your damn name is. Your song sucks. I wouldn't even wipe my behind with these lyrics if they were set on toilet paper!
Allow me to quote your simple ass:

“It’s your birthday and I know you want to ride out Even if its only to my house”
…oh wait, even better:
“I might just sweep you off your feet And make you wanna tell somebody (body, how I do) somebody body how i do

Pause- I’d be ashamed to tell anyone. I'd have to take Miss Ciely's Paw-Not-Paw's advice:
"You be't not tell nobody but God!
Carry on...

Or maybe we can float on top my water bed

(Pause again- people still have waterbeds? Smh…mmnh, carry on, Jeremih)

you close your eyes as I pry between your legs
We work our way from kitchen stoves, and tables
Girl you know I'm more than able to please, yeah
Say you wanted flowers on the bed (on the bed)
But you got me and now it's on again

* Mo runs over to her imaginary window, pulls the blinds off, and throws them on the ground out of disgust *

Cease, Jermih, you simple simon ass mafucka, cease!!!!

Bitch ass nigga: PUH-LEASE! You deserve an open-handed slap to your mouth; one so great you’ll never sing another set of lyrics like this again. This song is a disgrace to R&B.

James Brown's curl activator is probably drying up in his grave because of you.

Retire, ho. Right now.

Gosh! I feel so much better.

Now I’m about to head on to my slumber. I can rest well now that I’ve gotten all this off my chest.

BESOSBABIES!!