A Flying ‘Fuck’ At Phil Hendrie


HERE – Phil Hendrie, undisputed master of AM Radio comedy, hero to all, savior of children, slayer of elves, wrecker of homes, and lover of the loveless, has announced his so-called retirement from the airwaves to pursue the limelight on television and in the movies, leaving thousands of hardcore fans out in the cold to fend for themselves for enlightenment and a hearty chuckle. Leaving the fans to the wolves to listen to the pitiful local talent, something that is usually more inane than watching the paint dry at the Department of Motor Vehicles.

The following is an open letter to Phil, to let him know how much of a douche he actually is… and a warning:

Dearest Cocksucking Motherfucker,

I am (or have been, until recently) a fan of your tremendous catalogue of work, and find you the funniest man this side of 1970s Steve Martin records. You have been an inspiration and a beacon of hope to this college dropout and many of my has-been and never-will-be friends.

I first caught your show following 9/11, hearing about Bobby Dooley and her faux anthrax-stricken son. When I finally got the joke, I laughed for years. Until I heard of your retirement, of course.

Normally, I would give one “props” for retiring after such a large body of work to pursue the finer things in life, and spend the rest of it rotting on the front porch, telling your grandchildren stories of the war (with the FCC) and wittlin’ wood into canes and shivs.

You, however, suck for “retiring” to pursue bigger fame and fortune in TV Land by “acting”. No more writing for you, apparently. Do you really think people want to see you because you’re you? Your big, fat, balding head is not the reason people love you. It’s what’s inside of it, man.

Your wit and humor is unparalleled in this universe, not your mug. Would I watch The OC, or some other such drivel, because you were featured? Hell no! Maybe if you wrote it. But no other reason.

What if, say, Kurt Vonnegut decided that he didn’t want to “work” anymore on writing brilliant novels, instead shoving his ugly old face on TV to rake in the dough?

And what’s this I hear of you trying your hand in the Internet humor business? Step off, bud. The market’s saturated enough as it is. We don’t need you on here stealing potential visitors because of past notoriety. We’ll take care of the funny stuff, pal. You just keep whoring yourself out to NBC, doing zero work, while we sweat blood and shit thorns working our asses off to bring new, fresh humor to the World Wide Web.

I heard you say, just tonight, that you would work in radio again if you could say “fuck” and “cocksucker” and “motherfucker” without being fined by the FCC. Okay. Go to satellite radio, chump. The fact that you are not is proof positive that you are just a lazy, fat bastard.

We here in the WWW community have the cussing market cornered, friend. Look:

· Fuck

· Shit

· Piss

· Clit

· Cunt

· Fuckface

· Asshole

· Motherfucker

· Cocksucker

· Dykewhore

· Shitstain

· Elephant cock erection surplus at the ass fuck farm

And ain’t nobody gonna do nothin’ ‘bout it.

So, fine. Retire, you old fart. Break our hearts by selling your soul. It had better be a joke. Come June 24, if you’re not on the air, I will find a random well-endowed woman and stroke hers tits with a razor blade in protest until you are back.

Love,

Egbert Souse

P.S. I love you.

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Dr. Egbert Sousé is a columnist and the Senior Editor for Lush For Life.Born and raised in the rural Deep South, Dr. Sousé attended University of Vanderbilt, where he received his Bachelor's Degree in Mass Media, then going on to Georgetown for his Master's, and eventually graduating from Brown University with a Doctorate Degree in English, where he studied under the highly respected writer and journalist Dr. Leonard Epstein.Dr. Sousé has written articles for a variety of publications, including Newsweek, Time, and The Boston Globe.When not working, Dr. Sousé enjoys spending his leisure time at the local horse tracks, where he places two dollar bets and attempts to make contact with extra-terrestrial life.He currently lives in Tampa, Florida, and during the summer months he resides at his remote villa in Key West, Florida, where he enjoys drinking home-made Absinthe while he continues to complete his Great American Novel.

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