If you had had the temerity to have sent an unsolicited manuscript to the late Hunter S. Thompson, you would have received this "Dear Writer" form letter acknowledging receipt of same...
Dear Writer:
You worthless, acid-sucking piece of illiterate shit! Don't ever send this brain-damaged swill in here again. If I had the time, I'd come out there and drive a fucking wooden stake through your head. Why don't you get a real job, asshole? Like maybe delivering advertising handouts door to door, or taking tickets at carny rides?
You cocksuckers are all the same. You're just like the drug-addled geeks at Rolling Stone who keep sending me this crap. I'd just as soon kill them all.
Do me a favor, dipshit. Jam this tissue of delusions where your readership will better appreciate it.
Up your ass!
Sincerely,
Yail Bloor III, Minister of Belles Lettres
P.S. Keep up the good work. Have a nice day. Loser.
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