An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

The greatest email in the history of the Internet

The following email arrived anonymously in my inbox a couple of days after I posted about my recent Maytag saga. It is a literary masterpiece, one filled with a bit of questionable language (BEWARE! meaning, Dad, you’re not going to want to read this one), and I could not in good conscience keep this to myself. Behold:

Regarding Your Most Recent Post

Dear Mrs. Armstrong,

I am a Germanic headless anti-vaccination pioneer. I am deeply offended by your having opinions and complaining about your sub-par washing machine service. 

My parents died when I was four years old. They were security guards at the city zoo that came upon a massive kudu heist in progress and halted the progress of the criminals long enough to be fatally stabbed seventy-three times in total. I spent many years on the stoop of a slumlord’s crapshack, exposing myself to gang violence as bullets whistled by daily like sideways-going pigeon poop, listening to he and his portly halfbreed banshee-bull terrier wife rail against each other like two krumpers in a street circle.  

I chose this loud locale for my home solely to learn to separate my w’s and my v’s properly amidst the screams of “piss-guzzling ass minstrel,” “shit-swilling crap-belching vagina,” “pithy rust-encrusted testicle envelope,” and “burgeoning harlot, omni-wight-fucking chasm-cockpit, moss-growing volcanically throwing-up dick splitter, Blubberface McButtshit Taintlicker Esquire.” 

It is deeply hurtful to me that you stereotype my people by implying that we are too stupid and worthless to not mix up our v’s and w’s, like we lolloped out of some old anti-German cartoon. You Americans still haven’t forgiven us for World War II and your old prejudices stand in the way of you actually growing any brains, and we already apologized for it, and it pisses me off that you still demean us in this way.

I also want you to know that I lived in this horrible wretched (NOT VRETCHED) God-beshatted place until my head was shot off at the age of eleven by a seven-year-old crack dealer with an AK-47. I suffered much pain and suffering and playground tormenting because of this. “Headless Whorewoman” they called me, “Hessian Poopeater,” they taunted me, “No-Face McButt,” they screamed and pointed. 

“Why don’t you go find Ichabod and fuck him with a pumpkin,” was the response that I got the first time I asked a boy out on a date. 

You cannot possibly know the pain of not having a head and the social ostracization I have fought to overcome, how my life spiraled into a black angry pit full of snakes of despair and spiders of wrath and black roses of zombie sex and skulls of vampire fetish and the blackness of waking torpid undead death; and I do not find it funny at all that you make light of this suffering. 

I left the city life after a Korean man who sold intricately-carved animal bacula gave me a pamphlet on the Church of Latter-Day Saints. After he discovered I couldn’t read (not because I was German and couldn’t understand English because of all the w’s and v’s, but because I DIDN’T HAVE A HEAD, IF YOU RECALL) he gave me a verbal summary, and it was like a golden shower of divine inspiration had rained down on me directly from the deepest depths of the angelic hosts’ very being. I decided to move to Utah.

Having no money, however, I struck out on foot, with only a few dozen squirrels I had harnessed in the city to guide me in my horrible blindness and to carry the few possessions I had: a few quarters for laundry, a toothbrush with a shaved end that doubled as a shiv, a raccoon baculum that doubled as either a smaller shiv or a fishhook, and a few masks full of styrofoam to prevent people thinking I was coming from beyond the grave to destroy them (Bill Clinton, werewolf, and Stormtrooper). 

It took years of difficult struggle for me to make it, and not a few squirrels gave their lives to distract the coyotes from my sleeping form which looked to them for all the world like carrion. I was shot several more times (apparently this was many strangers’ first response to my alarming appearance) and nearly bled to death on several occasions, but the divinity of my quest kept me alive by the grace of God and the inspiration of Joseph Smith the Prophet.

Your washing machine doesn’t seem so effing important now, does it. Oh, your house is covered in poop? I was covered in blood for a solid year. And poop, as well, as it’s hard to find motivation to find a suitable place to shit when you don’t have enough blood to raise your hand and slap a coyote away. When I was feeling well enough to walk, I found beating my clothes with a rock in a stream suited me just fine.

Eventually, one night in total darkness, I arrived at the temple in Salt Lake City. I felt its facade and it was like a lightning bolt ran through my fingers, up and down my spine to my brain and my anus, filling me with the electricity of hope, something I’d never felt before. I sat on the steps until dawn came, and a man of the cloth arrived.

“Who are you?” he said.

“I’m a fucking believer, my bitch,” I said. Having grown up on the block, this was the only way I had ever heard people talk. I had no idea it was offensive. In a surge of faith that this man would not judge me, I took off my Stormtrooper mask to reveal my lack of a face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, scrunching his face in disgust. “I don’t think we can accomodate you.”

I was plunged into darkness once again. I contemplated killing myself there on the steps, but despite the church’s rejection, I still felt a spark of the faith in me. Perhaps the human followers of the church were not prepared for a headless Germanic woman from the block, but I was sure that Jesus and the Latter-Day Saints themselves were.

So I have worshipped in secret. Full of pain, and torment, and the ever-constant sting of rejection by every person I have ever met, I live in a sewer. The closest I have come to a washing machine is getting caught up in little whirlpools during rainstorms. But I have been coming to the public library, once a week, to read your blog, which previously was like a beacon of light and life into my dreary, half-dead days. 

But no longer.


“Headless Reader”

  • HDC

    Wow. Graphic. And vocabulary expanding as well. What a twofer! That, I proclaim, was more informative and thought provoking than the sum total of all that has ever been published in Reader’s Digest. Ever.

  • I didn’t know Irvine Welsh was a follower… right on.

  • Anonymous

    Dooce, You may have well just met your match. Game on.

  • Anonymous

    I think I have found my new name when I go into witness protection:

    “Blubberface McButtshit Taintlicker Esquire”

  • Khrystan Policarpio

    … WOW. Was someone that bored? That’s hilarious. XD

  • Holy crap! Apparently Lemony Snicket reads this blog!

  • Bravo Headless Reader. That was quite entertaining. I think you need to present yourself, in all of your headless glory. I don’t believe all of that, though. I lived in Germany for two years, and you do not know your w’s from your v’s. I’m currently in Lithuania, and they are even worse (and their alphabet doesn’t even have a W in it…). Anyway, it’s still a wery avesome e-mail.

  • Amy

    Eleventy billion kinds of awesome. Exclamation point! Why wouldn’t you want a byline on that!?!?

  • Heather L

    Wow – that is some crazy stuff! I am just curious – if she didn’t have a head, then why did she pack her toothbrush?!

  • um….your parents didn’t tell you that you were separated at birth from your identical twin? seriously – she writes just like you do!!! f’ing hysterical!

  • Two words: FUCKING AWESOME

  • Amy

    Zere are no verds. Epic.

  • Sarah

    “I’m a fucking believer, my bitch,”

    Love it. Thank you for sharing!

  • Jennifer

    I think we need to respond to this with a new government program: “Homes for the Headless.” We, as a society, are clearly not taking these poor people into consideration.

    Hang in there, Headless!! May more golden showers of inspiration come your way!!

  • Ummmmm…..YEAH! What a fabulous crock of shit! I wonder how long this person was willing to pose as headless, cussing, Germanic outcast just to to try to put you in your place? hmmm…scary, but entertaining

  • Jessica

    Golden shower of divine inspiration!


  • Cat

    I am so pissed I didn’t write this myself. Taintlickers!

  • Katie R

    I just wanted to forward this to everyone I know that wont get offended and then send it to everyone who will! that was so great!!

  • Linda Atkins

    Wow! That is a tour de force.

  • There went my admittedly lame plan to e-mail you (“FOLLOW!”) later this week.

    Thank you, anonymous person! I have an arsenal of new, childish insults!

  • Katie

    frighteningly, i think i may know the person who has a) the snark and b) the time to have written this

  • Cassidy

    OHMYGOODNESS HOW FANTASTIC. I think I’m in love.

  • I have half a mind to contact your “headless reader” and rip them a new one for being such an UNBELIEVABLY HUGE (but very creative!) LIAR.

  • Jackie

    Does that writing sound familiar to amyone else? Me thinks Dooce wrote this one. (It was brilliant of course.)

  • How does someone with out a head read your blog? This just leaves me with so much confusion! 🙂

    That was freakin awesome though!!!

  • Lauren


  • Tirzah

    truly a masterpiece.

  • Dear Headless Reader,

    YOU ROCK!!! I want to buy you drinks that you can pour directly down your larynx, since you have NO HEAD!

    UNFOLLOW, indeed!

    Thank you, Heather, for sharing that. You (and Ichabod) have totally made my day!!! Anonymous person, please let yourself be known!

  • Z


  • Anonymous

    The Headless horseman must have used a language translator to translate that letter from stupid to english. It makes no sense. Laughed out loud, but makes no sense.

  • OMG, the person who wrote that letter needs to step forward and bask in our applause. That is the best fan mail one can ever hope to receive!

  • kacy

    what the hell?

  • Anonymous

    Ok, so that email literally had in me in tears at work. Honestly, one of the funniest things I ever read.

  • Pure fucking awesomeness!!! 🙂 BRAVO headless wonder!! Bravo.

  • Well Heather, I think it is time you step aside and become #27 … because someone else clearly deserves to be NUMBER TWENTY SIX.

  • Whoever wrote that email deserves an award. That has to be the most creative email ever written. Bravo Headless German Woman From The Block!

  • I envy the Headless Reader’s writing and the time to spew forth this much genius. Maybe if I wasn’t spending so much time reading about the love lives of teen celebrities and silly Republicans I could be a genius? Naaaaaaah. I’ll just love the headless German from afar.

  • My parents went the same way. Tragic.

    I’m glad our author finally learned to read, being headless and all. Continuity people! Continuity!

  • Perhaps said Reader is a friend of Mike the Headless Chicken. He has his own festival. Google him up. I think Germanic Headless Reader stole the chicken’s story.

  • Anonymous


    BTW, I am really aggravated that you keep ignoring me (and others)…who were the DAMN WII WINNERS????

  • Shelly

    WOW.. Just WOW.. Is anyone else wondering how this was written by a person with no head? 🙂 Do they have eyes somewhere else, then their headless head?

    as i’m typing this at work..(shhh.. i’m working, kind of) Salt Lake City, UT pops up on the caller ID.. Oh No, I think headless person has found me…

  • Yes. Finally, proof that someone attended class the day that satire was taught. And not the someones who attended and thought that The Onion was a true news source (true story: a friend teaches Freshman Comp, and her students routinely think The Onion is true when she does her lesson on satire).

  • Barbara E.

    Headless bitch could give you a run for your money, Dooce. Seriously funny stuff.

  • Bravo headless reader! BRAV0FUCKING-O!
    You have introduced me to the words I will surely ramble if I become a crazy cat lady in my old age.
    For this I owe you my head.

  • Anonymous

    Are you sure Jon didn’t just email that to you? That is too brilliant. Worthy of an Emmy. A headless Emmy.

  • monique


    Favourite new word: McButtShit

  • jjinmia

    This is why I read/lurk and leave the mail sorting up to #26. I don’t think I would ever blog because I wouldn’t want to have to actually recieve/read this kind of net abuse. I can get that at work and in person. It is a bit hysterical though…

  • do you see the creativity your saga has inspired? I find the whole story from beginning to this very end amazing.
    I love telling my non-blogging friends the Maytag debacle.
    Everytime I get to the part in the story about how you told the woman you have one million twitter followers, they react like, “Yes!”

    You go girl!

  • My life is now complete.

  • That was one of the best emails I have ever read. The way they tied in your supposed offensives was awesome.

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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