Dear Asshole Who Stole My Blackberry,

You, sir, are an uberdouche. While I was having a great time celebrating my friend's birthday, you decide to become the bane of my existence. I know that you know who’s phone it is because you checked my voicemail, not once, but TWICE. It’s all good though, because I also know that you were the same one who stole my friend's purse and camera, and decided to use the credit cards at a gas station in the ghetto. Unfortunately, even gas stations in ghetto LA have surveillance cameras these days. Suffice to say, that besides being an uberdouche you are also not very bright. Have fun in jail.

Eat a dick,
Tyler

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