I recieve a piece of your dead-tree-spam at least once a week in my mail box, carried here by my kind mail-lady, Penny. How many trees must be slaughtered, flattened, bleached, and inked before you money grubbers finally understand that I don't want your damn credit card? America is trillions of dollars in debt and still you credit card companies send paper and slips of plastic to my home, enticing me to sell my soul for a garage full of shit I don't need with 25% interest attached to it. I've paid off my debt. I'm done. Quit, I repeat, quit sending me junk mail. Forget I ever existed. For Christ's sake, be American.
Humbly, yet Furiously, Yours,
John Q. American
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