Mirror mirror, on the wall ground … and the dashboard … and the seats … and the floormats … who’s the biggest pick-up-truck-driving asshole of them all?


Actual letter I placed in someone’s mailbox on my way home from work yesterday:

Hi. My name’s Jon. This morning, as I was driving by your house, a large pick-up truck — presumably driven by some schmuck who at the time was busy using his phone to Google “Why do people keep telling me I’m such an idiot?” — crossed the lane divider and almost struck my car head-on. In order to avoid a collision, I had to swerve out of the way … which resulted in my passenger-side mirror slamming into your mailbox. This completely destroyed the mirror and mirror assembly … and, because my windows were open, also covered the entire inside of my car with shattered glass. So that was pretty awesome.



[No, I didn’t include pictures with the letter. They’re here just for you. You’re welcome.]

Unfortunately, despite my best effort, I was unable to chase down and strangle to death the driver of the truck, so I now find myself stuck with a multi-hundred-dollar car repair and a guilty conscience that won’t let me drive by your mailbox twice a day, five days per week, without letting you know that I’m the boob who hit it. (On the other hand, I’m not dead from a head-on collision, nor in jail for murdering the truck guy, so I’m trying to look on the bright side.)

Anyway … please email me at [email address redacted] so that we can make arrangements to repair and/or replace your damaged mailbox if necessary.



Hopefully they’ll decide that my entertaining letter is payment enough.

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