Dear James (pt. II)

I thought about beating your ass when you got home from Danielle’s this morning, but I wasn’t sure if you were going straight to work from her house, or if you had plans to come back to shit, shower, and shave. However, I thought about it. I am not going to worry about  it. This is what I came up with…

If you drive drunk again and I am aware of it, I am going to punch you in the face. Then what I am going to do is tackle you, and then kick you in the stomach.


You’re my friend, and this is the stunt you pull-off with me?! Oh yes, of course it’s because of a woman, that’s your excuse. It’s because of Danielle.



If you want to die, then fucking do it. Commit suicide, but don’t get on the road and endanger the life of others! At least my attempt was singular, or I should say alone, to myself. I was not acting the fool and getting behind the wheel of a vehicle and driving off.


You’re not my friend. You’re a superficial, backstabbing, want-to be. You’re a leech!

You’re initial J. That’s it! Initial J.

You use me as a way to get cool points. “Oh, James is liberal. James is open-minded. James has a black friend. Ouhhh Wee!”

I don’t buy into your bullshit. I see right through you.

LEARN THIS: You cannot bullshit a bullshitter! I am the best liar. I AM THE BEST!

I thought about it, and this is what I’m going to do: I am going to pretend like nothing happened, and I am going to pray that you do it again so I can wail on your sorry ass. You pathetic piece of meat!

Enjoy Danielle! Enjoy your 9-5 cush job! Enjoy your steady pay! Enjoy your motorcycle! Enjoy your dog! Enjoy it all!

But if you get on the road again, and I find out your intoxicated, I am going to fuck your soul!

It’s mine!


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