May 31, 2007

I, Anonymous

Hang Up the Phone, Drunky Brewster

Tools

Steven Weissman

I left your sorry ass in March, because you are a lying drunk. Now you seem to feel the need to call me 17 times a night when you are drunk. Guess you "forgot" the call I made to you in April, when I said, "Don't fucking call me anymore." I even called you back and left a voice mail saying the same thing (in case you forgot when you sobered up). Please take the hint: I don't want to be your friend. You think I want to hang around you and the girl you were fucking when I was with you? Do me a favor... put an elastic band around your head, pull on it, and snap the fuck out of it. There are many reasons why I left you and I really have no interest in being around you. I hate liars and you are the biggest liar I have ever met. LOSE MY PHONE NUMBER. If you feel the need to drunken dial—call your new goddamn girlfriend! I'm sure she'd love to hear your drunken psychobabble.

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