January 3^rd, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 1

I feel great already. This lemonade stuff really isn’t that bad. I don’t know what everyone’s whining about. Plus, how can you even get that hungry? You get to have lemonade every single time you get even a little bit hungry or feel just a tiny bit week. I’m going to be SO hot in 10 days.

January 4^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 2

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. I just did my first Salt Water Flush a few hours ago. I’m still on the toilet. (I just grabbed my iPhone so I could still document this shit. Literally. There is SO much shit.) When is going to stop? This is worse than the time I got tacos from that stand by the side of the road in North Carolina. OH MY GOD. I think it’s happening again.

January 5^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 3

I shit my pants today in the grocery store. No, seriously. I went to buy more lemons and I farted. But it wasn’t just a fart. Oh, God. I sharted in the grocery store. And I’m fucking starving. So starving that I followed an old lady around the store for 20 minutes just because she smelled like bologna.

January 6^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 4.

First day back at work post-cleanse. It actually started pretty well. I woke up at 5am so that I could get all of my salt flush bowel movements out of the way before I had to leave for work. And I checked the scale and I’ve already lost five pounds! You should see how amazing my ass looks in that pencil skirt that I haven’t been able to squeeze into for almost a year! But then, it was lunch time, and that bitch Robin was just sitting there eating fucking lasagna like it wasn’t January fucking 6^th when EVERYONE is on a diet. Like spicy lemonade is going to taste as good as fucking lasagna.

January 7^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 5

Well I guess Tom doesn’t like a hot bitch who looks super sexy in a bikini because we just got in a huge fight and he tried to get me to call off the cleanse. Like just because I called him a giant dick who never appreciates my feelings when he didn’t pull up Netflix fast enough. Well guess what, asshole? I’m fucking STARVING and CONSTANTLY pooping and peeing and this lemonade isn’t cutting it. So you BETTER have Orange Is the New Black up by the time I get back from the bathroom, okay?! I want to see some bitches beating the shit out of each other in prison while I daydream about pizza.

January 8^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 6

So my boss jumped on the Tom train and is becoming a total dick, too, because he acted all pissed off just because my report had a FEW grammatical errors. Well guess what, I’m SO sorry that you’re all about this fucking proper English bullshit but words are fucking hard when you HAVEN’T EATEN IN SIX DAYS! Of course HE can tell the difference between “their” and “there” he had a fucking onion bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. And I bet HE didn’t have to wake up at 5:00 just to get his two hour long bowel movement over with before the work day started.

January 9^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 7

I got fired. That’s right. Apparently there was a critical error in my budget report and when my boss pointed it out to me and I told him to go fuck himself, I was acting “hysterical” and “unprofessional.” Then I passed out from the emotional fatigue and they told me to get professional help. Well, fuck them all. I don’t need them. I have my lemonade and my laxatives to get me through.

January 10^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Day 8

And fucking Tom dumped me. Just because I screamed at him for a few hours after he said the word taco in front of me. Like, how DARE he mention food in front of me? And he acts all innocent and wronged, like I’m just being all irrational? You know what’s irrational? Talking about CHEESE and GROUND BEEF and TORTILLAS and SOUR CREAM in front of someone who hasn’t had solid food in EIGHT FUCKING DAYS. That’s what’s irrational.

January 13^th, 2014
Juice Cleanse Abandoned for Two Days Now

Okay, fine. I gave up and ate an entire pizza and a box of cookies after Tom left. Needless to say, I ended up in so much pain, so beyond constipated that not even three salt water flushes could unstop me. And now my pencil skirt doesn’t really fit. And Tom’s gone. And I’m unemployed. Thanks, Master Cleanse.

20^th July 2012

To whom it may concern;

I am writing to apply for the job of Fuck You at How Fucking Hard Is It to Answer One of 35 Follow Up Emails or One of 27 Follow Up Calls Incorporated. As a recent college graduate just looking for one person in the whole fucking universe to take my Liberal Studies major seriously and let me finally cash in on the dreams promised to me in exchange for a $50,000/year education, I feel that I am especially qualified to work at a company that is clearly as douchey as yours.

See, like your awful corporation, I too can be a total dick to desperate applicants who just want to move out of their parents’ creepy, moldy, spider-filled basements and maybe be able to, oh, I don’t know, actually score with that hot chick from the bar because they’ll have a swanky, new apartment to take her to. I’m not sure if this got through with my initial application, but I am a total asshole, just like you guys! I mean sure, most of my experience is just with lying to women and hazing new members at my fraternity, but I’m sure after this big fish gets to the nasty, polluted, assholish waters of your company’s big pond, I’ll soar (you know, in a fishy kind of way) and learn how to crush the dreams of us mere mortals, too. I mean, I too believe that there’s nothing like saying to a kid who spent Friday night after Friday night in the library pushing for that magna cum laude (even though it was his senior year and he was basically a GOD at his fraternity) that, oh all that effort, was not good enough. But show us your MBA and your four years of experience and we’ll consider interviewing you for a job that basically involves scheduling the CEO’s meetings and picking up his lunch from the deli around the corner. Because I definitely wouldn’t be able to remember that he wants mustard, not mayo, on his pastrami sandwich without another $100,000 or so of education and some concrete job experience ordering sandwiches.

Which is why I’m sending you this letter, along with my resume, to see if there are any opportunities in your HR department. Like, I said, I want to be a dream-crusher, too, a total douche bag, asshole, cock-sucking dickwad who shits all over, not just the dreams of other people, but their sense of themselves as a worthwhile person who might one day actually be able to contribute to society in a real, meaningful way. And I really think that your company, which clearly shares my desire to treat people like useless sacks of shit, is the ideal place for me to start my dream-crushing career.

But, seriously, you have a job for me, right? Because my mom has started padlocking the refrigerator and kitchen cabinets so that I can’t get to the food until I start paying the rent she says she and my father asked for as a condition for my moving back home. I swear I’ll do anything you need me to do for as little as $25,000/year. I really have some qualifications. I was in a fraternity, we were rejecting and accepting and training new members all the time. Plus we had to follow all the finicky rules of our national chapter and our university. Isn’t that what HR does? Because I can do that. Seriously, any job opening, just contact this guy and I’ll do it.

I hope you’ll be in touch. Please note that the cell phone number on my older application is no longer in service, but I can be reached at my current job at the ———- Home Depot at xxx-xxx-xxxx Tuesday-Saturday from 11am-8pm. Just ask for Stock Boy Number Seven.

I hope you enjoy the rest of your fucking sunshine-filled day as well as the eternity you’ll most likely spend rotting in hell.

Sincerely,

John