Oh, Cruel World!

By Dig Reader

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Dear fuckface who I bumped into with my car,

So, yeah, when we got out to exchange information from our miniscule accident (which the TWO cops who happened to be around said we should just go ahead and do, no report necessary), you said you were not injured, as did I. Then, at the end of our exchange, when they asked us to confirm that no one was injured, you started to change your mind. "You know, I might have a back problem."

That's called a SCAM, you fucking ASSHAT and it's going to come down to me having to pay more money into the insurance racket for YEARS. Your car was also beyond repair, with a missing antenna, missing side mirror and more scratches than an old 45. I suppose you're going to blame that all on our little fender bender, too? Your chump attitude will bite you in the back-end. Watch out for the KARMA, bitch.

Send your anonymous gripes and grouses to letters@weeklydig.com, or to Dig Department of Gripes, 242 E. Berkeley St., 2nd Flr., Boston, MA 02118. Crybaby.