Dear Homeless Guy Who Hangs Out At The End Of The Drive-Thru,

You know what I want when I’m driving away from McDonald’s with a lap full of piping hot fries, big macs, and a large coke with a suspect lid job? You, jumping in front of my car like the Meesta Meesta lady in “Happy Gilmore,” demanding my change.

First of all, I haven’t used cash at a drive thru since 2006.

Second, I go out of my way to avoid you so much that I’ve almost caused two accidents. If that should ever happen, so help me Ronald McDonald I’m going to go Navy SEAL on your ass.


Now, the first hobo to think of the drive thru ambush was a genius.

I bet he won medals or something for laying some baller traps on the Viet Cong right before he lost his mind. You and your hobuds probably saw this visionary working his magic outside a Taco Bell and, like the spread offense and mockumentaries, you had to copy it until it just seemed lazy.

All of you are hobo hacks.

Hobacks, if you will.

And that’s why you’re not getting these seventeen cents. Yeah, I lied to you about the cash part. Now shut it while I roll up this window.


Regards,
Everyone


N.B. This letter submitted by Woody Tondorf. Twits can follow him here and the literate can read his blog!


Knowledge:
Learn about Hobo Ethics. Hobethics, if you will.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hobo#Hobo_ethical_code

Dear The Republic Tigers,

You're not playing Coachella but, well, you should be.

You've got a vibe that gives off that epic Arcade Fire-ish vibe with a bit more groove to it. As a friend put it: "It's sorta like Arcade Fire with some swing."




Okay, so that floor tom for the lead singer? That's a bit too "hipster-indie" for our tastes but we can roll with it as long as you keep our heads bobbing up and down to the beat.


Regards,
Everyone


Knowledge:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Republic_Tigers

Dear In-N-Out Bible Verses,

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Dear Cow Compass,

This is truly exciting news.

If we're ever lost in the English countryside or in the middle of Iowa, we can use you as a compass!

We demonstrate by means of simple, noninvasive methods (analysis of satellite images, field observations, and measuring “deer beds” in snow) that domestic cattle (n = 8,510 in 308 pastures) across the globe, and grazing and resting red and roe deer (n = 2,974 at 241 localities), align their body axes in roughly a north–south direction.
[PNAS]

We are certainly waiting for the day when cows can be miniaturized and then used as a compass instead of some sort of silly needle pointing towards an N. And screw you North Star. We can never see you in big cities anyway. And we certainly can't tell which star is which if we're in a desert. Brightest one? Lies.

Anyway, imagine that: a Miniature Cow Compass.

You have a friend and a sense of direction! Thanks, Cow Compass, for showing us the way.


Regards,
Everyone


When I was a kid I wanted to be cartographer and the compass rose was my favorite part of the map. And the legend, of course.

Knowledge:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compass_rose

Dear Internal Revenue Service,

Listen, we get it. We gotta pay up and you gotta enforce payment.

But your scare tactics aren't going to phase me.

Look at your logo:




Let's just say it sorta reminds us of another logo:




C'mon IRS, you think your Gestapo tactics are going to freak us out and get us to pay our taxes earlier?

We know you've been strong-arming organizations such as TurboTax to start sending us threatening e-mails to remind me about the deadline (15 April). Using lies like "Get your refund earlier!" or "Deadline coming soon!" and even threats like "Time is running out!"

The nerve.


Forget about it. You don't scare us. We're going right up to the wire.

We're digging out our carelessly placed W-2s on the 14th. We're dusting off that box of receipts and making deduction-piles on the floor. We're calling up our Shady Tax Guy to make up some deductions ("Of course I donated $500.00 to that charity!"). We're going to find that Post Office that's open until midnight. We're going to roll the dice and not mail our taxes with Certified Mail.

We're doing this because you don't scare us IRS. And this is goddamn America. Not Naziland.

This is the American way to do taxes.

U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!


Regards,
Everyone

Dear Abstract Film Posters,

Um, why are you so effing cool?



There isn't much more to say except that you are awesome. And thanks for wasting our day as we dig through your archives.


Regards,
Everyone


Take your browser and point it to http://www.filmtheblanks.com/ and get your thinking caps on. Some of 'em are pretty obvious while others are more difficult.

Dear Personalized License Plate,

How can can I take you or the driver of your motor vehicle with any degree of seriousness?

We get it. You have a grandson who loves you. You survived cancer. You have a God-fearing family. You love the [insert sports team here]. You really like Styx. You're a dentist/lawyer/cowboy/pimp.

You are aware that the cost of your license plate is included in your registration fees, right? I'm sure you are aware that you don't have to pay extra for a nice license plate number like: 4QTN917

But, yet, here you are purchasing a personalized license plate. Why? It's almost as worthless as putting a spoiler on a Toyota Corolla.

H8T 2 W8? I'd hate to wait any longer before I take a sledgehammer to your license plate.

And MOLTARR? I'd like to tar and feather this vanity plate.

Personalized plates don't impress anyone. Please remove and throw away into hobo fireplaces.



Regards,
Everyone

Knowledge:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moltar






Ed. Note: We get it. You were drunk and feeling self-righteous when you bought that hybrid vehicle. Or you were drunk when you got that personalized plate. Either way, you're a drunk.

Photo submitted by TCFS


Ed. Note: 'Won Big' then. Lost dignity now.

Photo submitted by TCFS


Click below to see even MORE shitty personalized license plates and submit your pictures to me at regardseveryone at gmail dot com

Personalized License Plate

N.B. Photos taken with my Canon PowerShot SD1100IS unless indicated otherwise.