An Open Letter to the “physician” I “poisoned”…

September 16, 2007 at 9:54 pm 1 comment

Dear Liar,

There are many things in this world that we don’t like. I don’t like ABBA. They make me want to shove screwdrivers in my ears until I puncture my temporal lobe by which time I might have dropped the screwdriver because the cerebrospinal fluid has made the Robertson handle too difficult to grasp and twist.

Other things that suck: missing out on getting tickets to see a show, getting an apartment right next to the airport, and having a 24h bug that has been going around.

And you.

That’s right, Sir. I said you. You suck because this morning you brought me down from my fabulous ‘Sunday Morning and I’m Working My Ass Off Again for Ingrates Who Don’t Appreciate Western Living’ self by calling me and informing me that baked goods I sell gave you, your wife, and your baby diarrhea.


Second, WHY DID YOU EAT THREE IN ONE SITTING? Do you know how much fat that is? 75 grams of fat, you stupid fuck. 1500 calories. “Oh, I got diarrhea, poor me, feel bad for me, give me free scones.” You obviously don’t know how to maintain LIFE properly, because three scones isn’t a meal. It’s more like a binge, and that’s the sign of an emotional problem.

Third, you proudly informed me that you, your wife, and your baby know for sure that it was the scones because “that’s all we had to eat yesterday.” YOU BOUGHT THE SCONES AT 1:30 IN THE AFTERNOON. I should call the CSA on your ass if you haven’t fed your baby anything by 1:30 and even then all you gave it was a couple of pieces of scones.

I was nice to you. I kept my mouth shut about how absurd the whole idea was, all the time questioning if perhaps you and your wife and your baby have lactose intolerance, since there are few things that cause diarrhea other than a parasite or virus (neither of which are present in scones, as they are baked at 375 degrees and go from fridge to hot oven experiencing nothing in between like a toilet bowl or hospital sheets) and are handled with tongs. I don’t recall having rubbed your six cheddar scones on my ass before boxing them, but who knows. I’ve been known to do many a crazy thing at work on a busy Saturday.

I said that the whole thing was very interesting since I’ve never heard anything like this in all the years I’ve been working in the bakery, and that myself and my fellow coworkers, as well as our hundred or so regular customers who eat scones on a daily basis have never experienced anything like diarrhea.

Your response: “Oh I’m a PHYSICIAN, I’ve heard these things reported.”

Oh, so now you’re a Physician. That’s a vague term isn’t it?

A) I’ve since done some research on diarrhea and I’ve found nothing that could indicate that what we sell made you, your wife, and your baby sick.

B) Why is it a physician, his wife, and his baby had eaten nothing before 1:30 in the afternoon then chose to have a healthy scone binge? That doesn’t sound responsible at all.

C) I looked up your name in the white and yellow pages and there is no listing of you being a physician. And as I’ve come to learn, anyone who has paid six figures to obtain any sort of letters of importance will go out of their way to make sure they are clearly listed on everything they own.

D) I remember you; you weren’t over 27 and you looked kinda like a stoned bum jonesing for scones. I don’t believe you for a second when you say you’re a physician.

E) Go fuck yourself.


I found this fact sheet on managing diarrhea which you might find interesting.

Entry filed under: .

Gross Shoes… set the mood: Dancing Shoes – Arctic Monkeys An Open Letter to Elvis Radio (Sirius Satellite channel 013)… Rhinestone Cowboy – the One and Only KING, BABY

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. Olivia Vance z  |  December 20, 2011 at 9:15 am

    And when there is money to be made, you can be sure that capitalists will try as best as they can to tilt the odds of profit in their favor.


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