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You've changed. We used to think you were kinda sweet, in a crazy old grandpa way, but something's changed, and your just not the same guy we thought you were. We used to think you were one of the good guys. That smell of Old Spice used to put a comfortable smile on our faces, but ever since we caught you sniffing our dirty panties...well...the smell of Old Spice makes us wretch. It's not the smell of a kind grandpa anymore, it's the stink of an old whackjob! So we've been doing some thinking.
You say you want what's best for us, and and we used to believe you, but your doing things now that really, really scare us and creep us out. Remember when the building super, George, got drunk, kicked in the Susie's apartment door over in building #2, and dry humped her leg? Remember how you screamed at him, and told him he was a disgusting, power abusing pile o' crap, and that you'd kick his ass if he ever pulled anything like that again? That's the sweet sweet Johnny that was the kind of crazy we thought we could trust. That Johnny's gone--nowhere to be found. Where'd he go?
Ever since you found out George's contract was ending (the owners didn't have the balls to fire him) we've seen you hanging out with him and his friends. We know you've applied for his job, and we heard you telling him how friggin' awesome it was the way he dry humped Susie's leg. Susie's scared that there's nothing you won't do to get the job. What's your damage Johnny?! Three quarters of the owners can't stand the site of George or his friends, so for you to be hanging out with him and his gang of moral degenerates in hopes of getting the job...well...all we can say is that it looks like you've really lost it.
I mean, yesterday I heard you yelling at little Ahmed Shia, telling him to stop bouncing his ball in the hall and to go back upstairs to his family's apartment so they could deal with him. Johnny... the Sunnis live Upstairs, and the Shias live DOWNSTAIRS. Always have. Have you stopped taking your meds? Or are you just making this shit up as you go along?
Whatever the deal is, your not the guy we thought you were, and you really scare us. George was a power drunk moron who let that Dick of a friend of his talk him into doing some really crazy cacca, so when he did what he did it pissed us off, but we knew he was gone when his contract ended, and were sure no one would be crazy enough to try and pull more of the same crap again. Boy, does it ever look like we were wrong.
You're doing what your doing stone cold sober, and we'd never put you in the same sub-human IQ group as that Chimp George, so we're left to wonder if you might be even more dangerous than that nutcase and his friends were. Susie says she overheard you plotting with some of George's friends to break into the next apartment building and dry hump some more legs while your at it . Please tell us it's not true, because that's some really twisted shit. I mean the whole neighborhood knows what George did and the whole building's got this really horrible reputation already, so if you do what it looks like your going to do, everyone will really hate our building.
You were amusing for a while Johnny, but it's over, and we've got our future and the job of repairing our building's reputation in the neighborhood to think about, so we're writing this letter to let you know that all of us and a bunch more of our friends are going to do all we can to keep you from getting the job.
We've found our own guy to run things around here, and once we get him on the job things are going to change for the better. He'll run the rats out of the building, patch the holes George left in the walls and in our reputation, and make the whole neighborhood safe for us and the kids who want a brighter future than you could ever offer.
The PolitiGals of Hope Lane,
Building #1, Apartment 21
Thursday, June 12, 2008
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