tagLetters & TranscriptsWhat I Did During Summer Vacation

What I Did During Summer Vacation


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What I Did During Summer Vacation

When most others have barbeques and pool parties, others write letters during the long, hot summer.

Dear Anthony,

How's your summer? Have you taken the kids anywhere on their summer vacation?

Unfortunately, things don't look good for me. This is my last letter to you.

The weather is so hot here, hotter than Hell, that I can hardly breathe. When I do breath, my nostrils are filled with smoke and gunpowder from all the bullets we're firing.

We were ambushed and Al Qaeda has us pinned down. We're surrounded. I needed to write you this last letter in case I don't make it. They're everywhere. We tried to radio for air support but the radioman took machine gun fire and he's down as well as his equipment.

I wanted to write to tell you that I love you. I'll always love you. God bless you and our children. I'll see you in Heaven.

Kiss the kids good-bye for me. Tell them that Mommy loves them. Tell them that Mommy was proud to have served her country and proud to have been a United States Marine.

Oh, one last thing. I need to clear my conscience so that I can go to Heaven. Brace yourself because I had sex with your brother...seventeen times and your father...nine times.



* * * * *

Dear Anthony,

Shit. Ha! Ha! Just kidding about Al Qaeda pinning us down. Actually, they did pin us down but I'm safe now. We were finally able to fix the radio well enough to get a transmission through to coordinate the enemies' location for a bombing attack. Two fighter planes bombed the shit out of them and those who tried to run were gunned down with machine gun fire. A bloody massacre with us overtaking the enemy, I'm proud to be a Marine and so glad that I'm safe.

I can't wait to see you again my love. Kiss the kids for me. I'll be home sometime in the fall.

Oh, by the way, you know what a kidder I am. Ha! Ha! I was only kidding about having sex with your brother seventeen times and your father nine times. I never had sex with your brother or with your father. Nope, not even once.



* * * * *

Dear Lorraine,

Don't bother coming home. Your mother and your sister are all the women that I need. They've been helping me not only with the kids during their summer vacation but also with whatever else I need, if you know what I mean.



* * * * *

Bitch Shirelle,

When I get out bitch, I'm gonna kill you for puttin' me in here. You dig? I'm done with your black ass.

I done told you that I didn't cheat on you with your grandmother, your mother, your sister, and your best friend. I done told you that all those bitches were lyin'. I done told you that the only woman for me is you. I done told you that I'd never cheat on you. I done told you that.

When I get out, you better have not spent my money, used my drugs, and thrown out my guns. Those charges for unpaid parkin' tickets were all bullshit. You were the one drivin' my ride. You were the one who got all those tickets 'cause you didn't pay the meter. You were the one who took off with my money so that I couldn't pay the fine.

Ninety days in jail is a lifetime in my bus'ness. You know that the summer is my busiest season. With me not around, my customers figure I'm dead. Now 'cause of you, I needs to start all over again.

I hate your black ass,


* * * * *

Dear Tyrone,

There's no need to come home and I pity your black ass if you do come home 'cause my man will put a cap in your ass. You dig?

That's right. I have a new man in my life. This, by far, is the best summer of my life. I've been shackin' up with your Daddy for some time now. He knows how to treat a woman right.

Because of him, I get my nails done every week, my hair straightened, and he buys me all the diapers that I needs for my baby. Too bad you told your Daddy where you hid all that money sucker.

By the way, I received a notice from impound that your car was sold at auction. They didn't get enough from the sale of your Caddy to cover all of your parkin' tickets. You still owe them $3,000.

You should have paid your tickets bitch.


* * * * *

Dear Mr. Congressman,

How are you? How's your five week summer vacation going?

Me? How's my vacation? Thank you for asking.

Actually, unlike you, your cohorts, and your co-conspirators, I don't get a vacation working two 30 hour part-time jobs. My jobs don't have any benefits. God forbid I'm sick without healthcare, I can't afford to even take off a sick day. Unlike you bitches and bastards, who have the best healthcare in the world, if I don't work, I don't get paid. Unlike your fat ass living the life of luxury as a public servant my ass, I have no vacation, no retirement, no nothing, just work, work, and more work until the day that I die poor in some rat and roach infested nursing home.

I just wanted to take the time to tell you that I won't be voting for you in your next election. Moreover, I plan to campaign against you by telling everyone I know and everyone that I don't know not to vote for you.

When your party does something about jobs and does something to make my life easier, then maybe I'll consider putting one of you lazy, lying, thieving assholes back in office. Until then, I hope you choke and die during your summer vacation.

Joe the Plumber

* * * * *

Dear Jennifer Lawrence,

How's your summer? My summer, fall, winter, and spring are always hot, hot, hot, hot, when thinking of you naked, naked, naked, naked.

Forgive me but calling you Jennifer Lawrence seems so formal since I already know so much about you. Being that I feel as if I know you already from all the details that I've read about you on the Internet, may I call you Jenny, Jen, or Jennifer? Which name do you prefer? You may call me Al, your number one fan

I watched you in Hunger Games, you were hot. I watched you in Silver Lining Playbook, you were hot. I watched you in Winter's Bone, you were hot. I watched you in, The Devil You Know, The House at the End of the Street, X-Men: First Class, The Beaver, and Like Crazy, you were so hot, hot, hot, hot, and hot. Damn, Jennifer, you are so frigging hot. So sizzling hot, I just love how hot you are.

I bought all of your movies and have posters of you all over my room, even on the ceiling so that I can stare up at you while lying naked in bed masturbating and while thinking of you sucking my cock. I'd so love to cum in your mouth Jennifer. You have such nice titties and I just love your round, firm ass.

Tell me, if I may be so bold, what are you wearing now? Do you wear panties or do you walk around au naturale in the way of Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Brittany Spears, and that fat, short bitch, Kim Kardashian. I hate her. She's such a bitch. They all have restraining orders out against me, I have no idea why, which is why I'm writing to you instead of to them.

Please respond with a nude photo.

Your #1 fan,


* * * * *

Dear Al,

Please cease and desist from writing to my client. I've already petitioned the court for a restraining order against you. Do not write to my client again or you will be arrested and charged with harassment. If you write her again, I dare say that you'll be spending the rest of your summer in jail.

David Goldberg

Goldberg, Goldberg, and Carmenucci

* * * * *

Dear Mommy,

How's your summer? Has Daddy taken you out on the water? I miss going out on my boat. It's been a while since I've gone fishing.

Being that I'm not very communicative these days, especially with the medication that I'm on and especially when restrained in the straightjacket in my rubber room, they told me that I must write to someone so that I can express how I truly feel. Actually, I think they want to make sure that I'm still lucid and sane before releasing me, especially after all the crazy things I've done in the past.

Do you really want to know how I feel Mommy? I feel fucking angry Mommy. That's how I feel. Are you happy now Doc that I'm writing to my mother as to how I feel? Are you happy now Mommy that I feel angry that you had me committed to this mental institution? Unable to watch my beloved Texas Rangers, I'm angry. I'm fucking angry that you put me in here. I can't even ride my bike and you know how much I love riding my bike Mommy.

There, after writing all of that, somehow I feel better. Maybe there is something to this psychiatric therapy. Maybe I'm on my way to a full recovery after losing my mind and being cured. Too bad they couldn't help me before I killed all of those innocent people.

Since I'm being honest with you mother, even though you've grown to look like Benjamin Franklin in your old age, I always wanted to have sex with you. Since the time I was 18-years-old, nearly fifty years ago, I masturbated every night over having sex with you after sniffing your panties and feeling your worn bras that I found in the laundry hamper.

Damn Mommy you sure do have big tits, bigger tits than Laura. If I was there now Mommy, I'd strip you naked and have my wicked way with you. If I was there now, I'd lick your pussy, have you suck my cock, and fuck you Mommy. I still want to have sex with you Mommy.

I love you Mommy,

There, again, I feel so much better writing how I truly feel about you.

Your loving son,


* * * * *

Dear George,

My summer is fine. Your father isn't able to get around very much anymore. Unless we strap him to a deck chair, we don't dare put him on a boat in his fragile condition. He may go flying overboard in the way that Obama ordered that pretend body of Osama bin Laden dumped at sea.

I'm so pleased the therapy is working. We planted the story that you're having a stint placed in your heart. No one knows that you were taken away by the men in white coats, not even your wife Laura and especially not your daughters, Jenna and Barbara.

Please don't be so hard on yourself. I realize you enjoyed your writer naming your invasion Shock and Awe. I was so proud of you when you stood on that battleship declaring the end of the war, albeit years prematurely and after thousands of more lives were lost. As if you were watching a firework display, I know how much you were so enamored with the pretty lights from the explosions at night over Iraq. Yet, had you served your time in the military instead of having your father pull strings to get you out, you'd know that war is not a video game. War is real and people die George.

Yet, you aren't directly responsible for killing all of those innocent people, indirectly perhaps you are for giving the bombing orders. You aren't the serial killer that you think that you are. Because your father's man, Cheney, at the time the most powerful man on Earth, was pulling all the strings in the White House and not you. The CIA purposely gave you bad information. Albeit, even though you were the Commander in Chief, your Intel was incorrect.

They told you what you needed to hear for you to give the order to bomb the shit out of those Iraqi bastards after all the threats your father received from cozying himself up to the Saudi's after the Gulf War. His personal business interests and wealth were more important than the country's safety, which is why those terrorists flew those planes in the World Trade Towers on 9/11. We all know that you were told in advance that the terrorist were taking over passenger flights but I suspect you thought just a plane full of passengers' lives would be lost and not thousands of people would die. I'm sure you never realized what 9/11 would do to our economy. If you had to make those decisions again, I'm sure you'd make better choices.

You really did believe that the Iraqis had weapons of mass destruction and that Al Qaeda was coming to get Daddy in Kennebunkport, Maine, didn't you? You're so naïve George. Forget about moving to the White House, Mommy should have never allowed you to leave the house alone. By the way, just so you know for future reference so as to not embarrass yourself again in front of reporters, Al Qaeda is not the name of a Mafia hit man. Al Qaeda is a terrorist organization.

Since you've been so open and honest with me about your incestuous lust for me, please allow me to be open and honest with you about my incestuous lust for you. Being that your father has been useless in bed for some time now, when you get out maybe we can have a little hanky-panky fun. How does that sound Georgie porgy, my pudding pie? It's been a long time since I've felt a big, hard, stiff one in my elderly pussy.

Tell you what, I'll let you sniff my panties and fondle my bra while I suck your cock. You can even cum in Mommy's mouth. How that? Then, later, you can drill me, so long as you're careful not to hurt my hips. I am 87-years-old after all.

Your loving mother,


* * * * *

Dear David,

How's your market share numbers for the summer?

They suck and you suck too!

Jay Leno

* * * * *

Dear Jay,

My summer market share numbers are better than your summer market share numbers.

You suck the big one too.

Dave Lettermen

* * * * *

Dear David and Jay,

My summer market share numbers are better than both your summer market share numbers combined. No one wants to watch two old men continue to make fools of themselves.

You both suck big, hard, hairy ones.

Jimmy Fallon

* * * * *

Dear Mumsey,

How's your summer? I haven't seen you since the royal birth. My summer, as is your summer, I imagine, is filled with duty and obligations. Poor, poor me, poor pitiful me. It's a shame that we must actually do something for the money that the people give us. Continuing our line of bloodsuckers, thank God for the royal birth of our future King George to make sure that the people still love us enough to support us in the lavish lifestyle that we've so grown accustomed to and can't possibly now live without.

I'm writing you, Mumsey, to ask you to please stop referring to Camilla Parker Bowles as Bowles. Especially with your English accent, it sounds as if you're saying Balls instead of Bowles whenever you call her by name. Her name is Camilla, Camilla Parker Bowles and I implore you, please refer to her as that, especially in public.

Thank you so very much. Your loyal, royal servant,

Your loving son,

Charles, the never to be King

* * * * *

Dear Charlie,

My summer is the same as every summer. I take the Range Rover and follow the dogs to hunt quail.

Did your wife put you up to this? Did your wife ask you to disrespect yourself to your mother and to your Queen? How dare she? How dare you?

You've both always been so insolent. How dare she take offense for you to write me, the Queen of England! I have more pressing matters than to assuage some bitch who couldn't keep her legs or mouth closed when around you. She's nothing more than a common whore who wears stupid looking hats.

Get over it. I will never refer to that bitch as Camilla and I do call her Balls and not Bowles. Why do you ask the reason is the why I call her Balls instead of Camilla? I'm glad you asked. Because, Chuck, if I had balls as big as Camilla's balls to distract and dissuade you from your royal business and sworn duties as the crowned prince of England while you were still married to Diana, I'd be king.

It's indirectly because of her, Camilla Parker Balls, that Diana is dead. It's because of you that I must stay alive so that you cannot and never will be king. Mumsey would roll over in her grave if your cunt of a wife was the queen.

Her Royal Majesty,

Queen Elizabeth, your embarrassed mother

* * * * *

Dear Sly,

What are you doing? You ruined my freaking summer. I had it all planned to begin shooting Expendables 3.

I can't believe you cut me from Expendables 3 in favor of Harrison Ford? Are you kidding me? How old is he? He hasn't done anything since the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Is he still married to that anorexic bitch Calista Nobody?

Hey, I played my character better than Harrison freaking Ford ever could. I was so believable standing there to give what few lines that I had. I looked CIA. If you ask me, I was worth the million bucks a day you paid me for doing nothing.


* * * * *

Yo Bruce,

What are you going to do now that you're not working on my movie this summer? Huh? Knowing you, you already have half a dozen movies already in production. You're such a bloodsucking, moneymaking production business. Always the mighty dollar is first with you and not the craft of acting.

Me on the other hand, I actually work for a living. This movie is my gig. I wrote it, direct it, and star in it. I actually make a vital contribution to the movie and you don't which is why it was easy to replace your ass with a bigger star, bitch.

I cut you from my movie because, ah, you know, you're greedy. You're lazy. And you have no hair. Now fuck off!


* * * * *

Dear Lone Ranger,

Well, the summer reviews to our movie are in and they're not good with no help from you.

Listen Kemosabe, people think you're dead and by the box office gate for this movie, you played your character as if you were dead. Allow me to give you a bit of advice, if I may. So that you're not recognized in public...perhaps you shouldn't still wear the mask.


* * * * *

Dear Tonto,

Fuck you Tonto.

As I go off alone into the night, I like wearing the mask of the Lone Ranger. I'll never remove it.

I wear it when driving. I wear it when I go swimming at the beach. I even wear it to bed when sleeping.

And what the Hell kind of name is Depp anyway Johnny? Huh? What are you a gypsy? No offense to gypsies, of course, some of my best friends are gypsies, not really, not at all. Actually, I don't know any gypsies.

The Lone Ranger

* * * * *

Dear A Rod,

You suck!

Once a fan but never again.

* * * * *

Dear A Rod,

You blow.


* * * * *

Dear A Rod,

Stop calling me, stop texting me, and stop writing me. I'm happily married, as if that's ever stopped you from trying to seduce married women.

Kate Hudson

* * * * *

Dear Alex honey,

I heard about all your troubles. Call me. Maybe I can help...relieve your stress, if you know what I mean.

Cameron Diaz

* * * * *

Hey Alex,

Can you get your hands on some more steroids? I need to pump myself up again and Bruce won't return my calls. I'm thinking about doing a cyborg movie that could earn me big bucks as a video game but I need more muscle.

I already checked with Stallone for some 'roids but he needs all that he has to look younger (lol). Good luck with that. He's starting to look like he's been microwaved. He's starting to look like one of the characters in the movie, Death Becomes Her (lol).

By the way, just wondering, can you ask my ex if he can hook me up with that young dude that he starred with in his last movie, A Good Day to Die Hard, what's his name? Jai Courtney, yeah, that's it. With him in that movie, they should have named the movie, A Good Day to be Hard. He's hot, way hotter than my ex, way hotter than Ashton, and way hotter than you Alex.

Demi Moore

* * * * *

Dear A Rod,

Don't bother returning, you druggie. We're not paying you another dollar on your contract, you cheater. Don't even bother coming in the clubhouse to dress. Get dressed in your car. God you're such an arrogant asshole. I hate you. Everyone hates you. Your mother called to tell you not to bother coming for Thanksgiving.

Hal Steinbrenner

* * * * *

Dear Monica,

Hilary has gone away yet again for most of the summer. Being that she no longer cares where I stick my cock or who I stick my cock in, I thought we could play our special game of not having sex again. I bought a new box of cigars. They're Cuban. Imported from Havana. The best. So, what do you say?

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