Totally Unauthorized

A side of the film industry most people never see.

Open Letter to America*

*With all due apologies to R. Lee Ermey

It has come to my attention that some of you among this great nation are paying inflated prices for canned pumpkin due to some commie shortage or something.

I’m disappointed in you worthless pukes. Are you not the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the people who flipped the finger to the Great Depression and continued to live and thrive?

I think not. Seems to me the hardy stock of America has been replaced by crybabies from planet Piss-ant.

Pay attention, maggots:

First off, harden the fuck up.

Then, go buy a damned pumpkin. Most chi-chi ‘gourmet’ grocery stores will carry small pumpkins called ‘sugar pie’. You’ll need two of them.

If you can’t find those, go out to one of those insipid pretend pumpkin patches that I know you have in your city.

Go the day after Halloween, get an ugly one and haggle the dude down. Don’t tell me you can’t. My deaf crippled mother can haggle. Yes, the pumpkin will last three weeks if the rind is intact.

Take your ugly fucking pumpkin and go home.

Get a knife. Cut the pumpkin into bits.

Scrape out the seeds. Put your back into it, weakling.

Cut off the rind. Cook the chunks until they’re tender.

Put the cut-up pumpkin chunks into a blender.

I know you have a blender. My blind grandmother who’s been dead for twenty years has a goddamn blender.

Blend until smooth.

Follow the same recipe you’d use for your shitty canned pumpkin.


That’s not good enough for you?

Go to this site.

Or use this recipe, which is the one yours truly makes.

Absolutely can’t find any sort of pumpkin at all?  Make a sweet potato pie and tell your family they should be grateful they get anything at all because when you were a kid, you were so poor that all you got for Thanksgiving was a tin plate full of sand and you felt lucky to have that.

What? You weren’t poor as a kid? Who cares if it’s true. A generation of great Americans were raised listening to the exaggerations of how hard life was when our parents were young. Most of those stories weren’t true, either.

If they still complain, make them do push ups outside while you eat their piece of pie.  That’ll teach ’em.

You’re welcome, maggots.

Filed under: humor, Non-Work, Off-Topic, rants

7 Responses

  1. boskolives says:

    *Well, we were so poor when I was a kid that if I wasn’t a boy I wouldn’t have had anything to play with*.

    Actually, with the film business being the way it is lately, things are still more or less the same, the death spiral of decent paying jobs to non-existence is getting scary.

    Get out and vote next week!

    Jerry w
    * R.I.P., Rodney Dangerfield, and bite me Christine O’Donnell

  2. snarkolepsy says:

    Good girl. I knew a little work would make you feel better.

  3. Marci Liroff says:

    I think you’ll LOVE my friend Willie’s new blog.
    Go get ’em!

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