I, Anonymous regrets hearing about you having sex with your first cousin, accepting your pencil-thin dick into our vagina, that you're one of the dumb-ass cops who apparently doesn't know what "lowest law-enforcement priority" means, vomiting on you on the bus, not appreciating our God-given hotness when it was in our possession, how you think being a "make-out slut" is cute not creepy, that you got fired after we complained about you peeing in the kitchen sink at work, that we can't get our life-ruining depression under control, being so haunted by crappy ex-boyfriends that it affects our relationship with our great new boyfriend, your compulsion to lie and how boring your lies are, how you deleted all the music off our computer and replaced it with a single Chumbawamba CD, how your sexy mannequin forced us to jerk off on her plastic face, lying to you about our vasectomy, robbing your disabled daughter, wearing an actual SS uniform to a Halloween party, your failure to tell us about the piece of chewed gum stuck to our face all day, your chronic improper use of quotation marks that makes you look like a brain-dead hick, that you consider Valentine's Day an excuse for rape, that our new marriage has not curbed our hunger for new pussy, that we are unable to charge you with murder because the person you killed was yourself, that you are unable to keep your swine flu–infested hands off my newborn baby, that we can't afford chemo after giving you a loan that you refuse to repay, that we offended you by happening to notice the avalanche of e-mails documenting your extramarital affair, that we didn't take you to the emergency room sooner, and that we ever met you.