If you’re gonna call me a bitch, you might want to have your email professionally edited.

Pin ItTweet

You’re not gonna believe this, but some people don’t like me.

I know. I’m as shocked as you are.

When I got my first hate email a year or so ago, I was devastated. How could someone not like MOI? I mean, I’m like the nicest, cutest, funniest, coolest–yet modest– chick I’ve EVER KNOWN.

But some people don’t see it that way.

I’ll never forget that message. It read…”You are not funny. Your stupid and you should put your fake boobs back in your shirt.”

I was like how did you see those pictures?!!!!

And then I realized the person wasn’t *really* talking about seeing my *actual* boobs. It was more of a metaphorical boob reference. Or…there are pictures floating around out there of my naked boobs that I’m not aware of. (I knew that was a bad idea–I blame the tequila and the entire year of 1998)

The thing that stumped me more than the content of the email was the grammar. Jesus, if you’re going to be a dick, at least know that it’s YOU’RE stupid. Not YOUR stupid. I’m thinking you might want to retake high school English. I’m just sayin.

Because I couldn’t get past that. I wanted to correct it and send it back. All red marked and shit. But I didn’t. I just hit the delete key and went about my day. But DAMMIT, it really bothered me. YOU’RE. NOT YOUR. YOU’RE. NOT YOUR.

Then there was the email accusing me of being a “no talent scam artist.” REALLY? For serious? Me? Not talented? Ouch. That hit below the belt, Sarah. Sounds like someone needs a hug. Also, I was accused of copying stuff that has been going around the Internet for 20 years. Um…I hate to break it to you, but Al Gore hadn’t even INVENTED the Internet 20 years ago. You might want to check your facts.

The latest hate message was by far my favorite. “Who do you thank you are? You make me sick. You call yourself a good mother when your on the web talking about porn and saying the F word all the time. You should have your kid’s taken away from you.”

Oh my God, again with the YOUR. I couldn’t get past the first sentence before becoming thoroughly confused. Who do I *thank* I am? What does that even mean?

And lady, if you want my kids (there are 4 by the way) Be. My. Guest. But just so you know two of them are teenagers and one still needs his ass wiped. So we’re clear.

Look. I know that not everyone thinks I’m of the awesome–I mean it’s hard for me to believe that, but still–but do you *have* to send me a grammatically incorrect/misspelled email? I would appreciate it if from now on you proofread any and all hate mail. Maybe you could have your kid’s English teacher review it for errors before you hit the SEND button.

Just a thought.

Carry on.

Oh, and your a peach. Yeah. I’m talking to YOU.