Complaint Letter:

What the hell? I spent the time to enter this dumb contest for an out-of-date calendar (yes, i realize the religions are not out-of-date... but the calendar is!) and Sean won't even tell me if I owned up everyone else. He said that I had to submit my complaint to the Swing Machine complaint committee (which doesn't exist cause Sean does everything) so I wrote this e-mail to tell him to piss off... unless of course, I won the contest in which case I love Swing Machine, Inc. and its subsidiary institutions, etc.

Eat stinky poo,
Anonymous Coward


Another complaint letter:

what? my entry was clearly best! do you have any idea how long i spent on that drawing? of course you do, you were there! you witnessed the greatest work of art of the century being created before your eyes and you didnt even think it was worthy of a stinky calendar! And another thing! Die spelt backwards is eid!




Sean just made Julie win cause he knows I would write all of these crappyass complaint e-mails to tell him how much he sucks, so he could have more lousy content for the Swing Machine. Well, here is some more...


While you're probably sick of hearing about the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine, it is crucial that you read this letter. Before I say anything else, let me remind the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine that if anything, we must denounce those who claim that every featherless biped, regardless of intelligence, personal achievement, moral character, sense of responsibility, or sanity, should be given the power to marginalize me based on my gender, race, or religion. As mentioned above, however, that is not enough. It is necessary to do more. It is necessary to acknowledge that by opting for the easy, short-term, feel-good path, it will weaken family ties faster than you can say "uncharacteristically". In public, the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine vehemently inveighs against corruption and sin. But when nobody's looking, the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine never fails to rely on the psychological effects of terror to magnify the localized effects of its scare tactics so that, like a stone hurled into a pool of water, shock waves ripple from the epicenter of the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine's attacks to the furthest reaches of the Earth. After all, the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine doesn't use words for communication or for exchanging information. It uses them to disarm, to hypnotize, to mislead, and to deceive.

Although everyone has goals, the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine's goal seems to be to incite an atmosphere of violence and endangerment toward the good men, women, and children of this state. The Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine has commented that the majority of flippant bohemians are heroes, if not saints. I would love to refute that, but there seems to be no need, seeing as its comment is lacking in common sense. The Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine's grunts have already started to eroticize relations of dominance and subordination. The result: absolute vapidity, sententious and testy cacophony, lack of personality, monotony, and boredom.

So the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine thinks that it has been robbed of all it does not possess? Interesting viewpoint. Here's another: "The Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine" has now become part of my vocabulary. Whenever I see someone undermine the foundations of society until a single thrust suffices to make the entire edifice collapse, I tell him or her to stop "the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine-ing". There are some truths that are so obvious that for this very reason they are not seen, or at least not recognized, by ordinary people. One noteworthy example is the truism that the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine insists that the cure for evil is more evil. This fraud, this lie, is just one among the thousands they perpetrates. What does this mean for our future? For one thing, it means that I don't care what others say about the Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine. It's still malign, disgusting, and it intends to feed information from sources inside the government to organizations with particularly dissolute agendas. With this letter, I hope I have made my views crystal-clear: The Electric Big-Bang Swing Machine prefers to see problems talked to death instead of solved.


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