To the punks who keep fucking with my window

Dear Window Toucher,

I know my car holds all kinds of wonder and enjoyment. Its got that cracked windshield and 4-wheel drive, and there's a certain magic bursting from the rusted muffler. If you're anything like me then the crap that fills my trunk just calls your name. I know, and understand, but dammit man, please quit FUCKING with my window. This shit is not funny anymore. I know the rattle and missing side-paneling make playing with the sliding glass o-so-much-fun, but really, not when it's raining, dude. That makes you an asshole. I mean, I already kinda suspected when you dumped my ashtray IN my car instead of the parking lot (ok, so I don't have to smoke, but that's my suicide, so here's the bird) when you stole my bangin stereo circa 1999. I mean, that radio was the sole purpose behind my purchase, well, that and the fact that my Rodeo is great for tailgating. (You have no idea how many wonderful nights have been spent on, in, or around that tailgate. mmmm....memories!)

All I'm asking is that you leave the window alone on days when it's hailing, is that too much to ask? Cuz for real, I don't care so much on the sunny days because, well, let's face it, Hellboy isn't such a hot bastard by the time I get home. You're actually helping me out a lil. Deal?

Sincerely,

the owner