22. Mar, 2009 
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Dear Guy In Front of Me At The Drive-Thru,
You know when they say “Order when you’re ready?” I hate to be the one to inform you of this, but they don’t really mean it. It’s code for “Start talking, asswipe.” Maybe if they could say that out loud, the job would be worth the $5.50/hour they get paid, but alas, they can’t.
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03. May, 2008 4 Comments
Dear New York Gypsy Cab* Driver,
Who the hell are you talking to on the phone? You’ve been chattering nonstop for the last half-hour. I don’t think I’ve even seen you breathe, much less allow the person supposedly on the other end of the line to speak.
Who is your carrier, and what crazy rate plan are you on? I know you’re not swimming in cash or you wouldn’t be driving a Towncar that looks like it ended its career as an extra on a Dukes of Hazzard episode.
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04. Apr, 2008 0 Comments
Dear Pretentious Grad Student,
Hi! I’m the guy who sits behind you in class. You know that odd crunching noise you hear every time you speak? Yeah, that’s me griding my teeth. I know you look down on me because I rarely speak in class. I know you think I have nothing to add to what you say. And you’re right, I don’t.
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08. Apr, 2007 2 Comments
Ah, that time of year has come at last.
Every year, around this time, exciting red and blue and green packages appear on the shelves at my local Albertson’s. And every year, around this time, I buy one of those shiny foil-covered boxes, remove one of the contents, and eagerly eat it.
And every year, around this time, I spit the contents of the box out of my mouth and say, “Motherf*cker! Gross!”
That’s right. I’m talking about Cadbury eggs.
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04. Oct, 2009 1 Comment
This is what happens when tequila and Photoshop collide.
24. Sep, 2009 3 Comments
Hi there! I’m the guy behind you in line. We should know each other pretty well by now, considering I’ve been standing back here with my roll of Tums for about half an hour.
No, please… take your time arguing with the guy at the cash register. I’m enjoying all the headlines of the magazines in the rack. I mean, who knew Demi Moore was having Pauly Shore’s lovechild? That info will come in really useful for me at my weekly housewives bridge game. You know how we love to gossip!
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14. Jan, 2009 0 Comments
Enough is enough. That freakin’ rabbit has been trying to get some Trix for 40 years now. Isn’t it time to quit being a prick about it?
“Trix are for kids?” Seriously. It’s a $3 box of crappy, unreasonably-colored sugar balls with little to no nutritional value. A cartoon rabbit is about the only thing it is fit to be fed to.
Besides, he’s an anthropomorphic talking rabbit. One with an obsessive fixation on a breakfast cereal, who’s shown time and time again the ridiculous lengths he’s willing to go to to score his fix. He’s not silly; he’s scary. And it’s only a matter of time before this gets out of hand.
So quit being a dick and give him a bowl. Before somebody gets hurt.
Love, Pip
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30. Dec, 2008 0 Comments
Is 4th grade level grammar and spelling too much to ask? Really?
Love, Pip
P.S. I will hire a hacker to break into the iTunes account database and find the personal address of the next fucker who posts a review saying “should i wach this show? click YES if u think i should 
”.
Then I will find you, and I will do things to you. Dark things.
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12. Sep, 2008 2 Comments
Why. Why. Why. Why?
Wh- but why? Why would you… why? Why. Why. WHY.
You’re a semi-moderate… why? Why. Why? I don’t underst… why? What were you going for, the neo-conservative vote? Who else were they going to vote for, Obama? They’re neo-cons – as a rule, they don’t like black people, much less liberal, free-thinking ones. So why?
Why.
WHY?!?
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03. Sep, 2008 0 Comments
I finally went and created myself a website: http://www.jgpippin.com. Don’t ask me what the whole orange paint thing is about; I have no idea. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but then, I was pretty drunk.
Thoughts? Critiques? I’m actually pretty bad at self-promotion, so let me know what you guys think.
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Pip is a picker, he's a grinner. He's a lover and he's a sinner.
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Dear Guy In Front Of Me At The Drive-Thru
Taxi!
Dear Pretentious Grad Student
In my Easter bonnet…
