Dear Sally Please Understand

"Sally"
I know I’m an asshole for emailing but I want to be honest. You asked where your CD’s went, and I told you I didn’t know. But I do know. I destroyed them. At least all the Bread and Dan Fogelberg CDs, same with the Air Supply and Wham. It’s been almost 2 months and I swear i couldn’t take it anymore.
I tried to overlook the truth, that you have the worst taste in music of anyone I’ve ever met. I know I told you I liked alright those CDs, but then I told you I really didn’t, I actually couldn’t stand them and I wished you wouldn’t play them when I was around. But you continued to play them and not just on your iPod but on the stereo, in the car, etc.

I’m sorry. You were out and I was having a shitty day and I saw them all sitting there on the shelf, and I just grabbed them and smashed them to smithereens. I used that big hammer from the garage and smashed the shit out of them, and I enjoyed it. Because honestly "Sally" they are total garbage. The music you listen to is total garbage.

I probably shouldn’t have done this or at least discussed it with you one more time. But the truth is these bands are among the worst in the history of music on earth and when you hum along with them and struggle to sing the lyrics, as if the lyrics are worth struggling after and not even stupider than the music, I just want to throw up. And I wonder how can such an otherwise great, smart and totally nice woman be so fucking stupid when it comes to music.
I hope you understand. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I can replace them but really if I do I’ll probably just smash them again. I’ll be back later and, if you want, I can come over and bring you the replacements and then leave because if you plan to listen to this shit again I’m just not going to be able to be there.


J: Are you joking? Where are you, I’ve left messages. Youre not joking are you. I don’t believe this, I don’t believe you. I’ve been looking for days. No, you don’t have to come over. And I’m throwing away anything I borrowed of yours after stomping all over it with my boots, just so you know. So no don’t come over. Ever. I do have good musical taste. You’re just a spoiled immature idiot.