Dear Windowlicker,

Someone just tried to post the following comment on my blog regarding the Nutjob clan:

Okay first of all why does Kristen spend so much time with a known Lesbian who has admitted she wanted to seduce Kristen? Does Kristen enjoy this lesbian attention? Kristen also threatened Britney who is a lovely young woman from a good Christian family. Kristen is so Jealous of Britney it is pathetic. Kristen is also good buddy's with Ragan Fox. I have heard about his blog and he is an uncouth, disgusting homosexual. No mother wants her son hanging out with a woman like Kristen and her questionable morals. I agree with Hayden's family Kristen comes from the streets. Hayden comes from a loving christian family. They both need to go there separate ways.

To the asshat who wrote this filth,

Today is your lucky day because I'm going to do you a huge favor. Get excited now, because I think this is a pretty big deal that not a lot of people in your IQ bracket get to experience. Now, I'm just going to go ahead and assume you have a fireplace. Actually, it's probably a pit in your backyard with festering pig remains in it, right? Nevertheless, it'll do for this little project.

Ok douchenozzle, go to your local Piggly Wiggly or WalMart or whatever outlet supplies really sharp and pointy cooking implements. Something like those things you cook shish kabobs on will work perfectly. Go ahead and get a whole mess of 'em. I'll reimburse you. It'll be fine.

When you get back to your sweaty little hole in the wall, go ahead and put your Klan robes away because I don't want them catching fire by accident. When they're safely nestled in your closet (the one with the Confederate flag hanging on top of it), take your pretty new razor sharp metal thingies, some matches, and go out back to the smelly fire pit you used to cook that baby deer you shot last weekend. Get a fire going - a nice good size one. You might want to read the instructions on the box of matches in case you forgot how to light one. I know how quickly that common sense stuff just eeks out of your head.

When you've got some nice pretty orange flames shooting up to the sky, go ahead and stick your shish kabob holders in there. The last thing I want is for you to get some unfortunate infection. An infection coupled with the Rabies that has clearly made you mentally "off" can only end badly. Trust me on this one.

Once everything is all sterilized I want you to take your sizzling hot pokers and one by one jam them into the following places: one in each eye ball, one in your spleen area (that's the lower left part of your chest windowlicker), one in your navel (if you can find it), and one really far up your asshole. Don't be shy at all. Just jab them in there real good. It only hurts for a second. I swear.

At this point you probably have one or two pokers left. These are the special ones. *claps hands* It's so exciting, right? Take one and say an 'Our Father' to it. As a religious peson, you're gonna need Jesus right about now. Tell Him how sorry and wrong you were for daring to utter homophobic filth on my blog. Apologize for polluting the Earth with your ignorance and stupidity and promise Him you'll do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

You should be crying at this stage in the game and since your eyes are most likely stinging from the salt and the blood, let's go ahead and put you out of your misery. Take that hot poker you've been praying to, open your mouth really wide, and jam it as hard as you can in the back of your throat. As you're probably a tenacious little monkey resembling a hard to kill mold or fungus, chances are you're still alive and kicking. Stand yourself right next to your fire pit, stab that last poker forcefully into your temple, and, if you'd be so kind, fall straight into the pit.

I'll go ahead and sprinkle your ashes at the place they empty those Port-A-Potty's. I want you to be comfortable amongst your kinfolk and I think a hot festering cesspool of shit is exactly where you belong.

Love and other indoor sports,

Colette Lala