Dear Matt Ryan,

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit damn.

Fuck me up the ass.

I AM STONED.

Matt Ryan, I wanted to write to you on the inside of this toilet paper roll to tell you something important. And that is that… FUCK I’M HIGH!

No, wait. That ain’t it. I’m here to tell you that, no matter what you do, no matter how well you play, the people of Atlanta will never love you. Ever. Not the way they love me.

Know why? Because you’re a fucking cracker.

Also, you don’t fight dogs. EVERYONE in Atlanta fights dogs. People who don’t fight dogs are probably gay. So you should know that. That is, like, culture and shit. You ain’t country. You ain’t ever been country. So you can suck the sweet tea right outta my dong.

I bet you own a computer. You’re a fucking nerd.

You can’t do what I do. Just remember that. I am Atlanta’s first love. The people there will never accept a QB who stands tall in the pocket, makes sound decisions, and throws a catchable ball. Know why? Because quarterbacks who stand tall in the pocket are little white bitches.

In conclusion, fuck you.

Also, I am high.

Send Weed,
Ookie

Photo courtesy of The Onion