Dear extreme douchebags on the evening Southwest Airlines flight from Chicago to Portland:
Thank you for acknowledging that "everyone on the plane must hate us" as you downed what had to be your 15th cocktail of the day. It's true. Maybe not everyone hated you, but I did.
I know, how selfish of me to not want to learn the specifics of your drinking exploits in Vegas (you've been twice this month, really? And dude, what? You didn't go to Vegas until you were 25? Really? SO SAD! You've been missing out, bro!), the girls you've been hooking up with, and ins and outs of your professional lives (and dude, listen to your newly acquired douchefriend — you shouldn't hire someone who lists the email on their resume as "martini69," even if you think it means they'll be funny). Oh, not mention your group's vocal disdain for the GLBT community, "ugly" girls, and minorities. Thanks for shouting out all of these details, though, so I could learn so much about you during our four-hour flight! Especially you, Portland Fireman dude. You made me so proud to be paying your salary.
I should give a special shout out to the SWA staff, who kept serving you and didn't even ask you to take a seat as you guys stood in the aisles or huddled over each other. I guess I can't blame them, though! Who wants to stop such a kickass impromptu plane party, am I right, bronies? And can we talk about Cheese Nips? I mean, BOOM! (actual quote)
Seriously, screw you, douchebags.