Really, I am at my wit's end with you, Tom.

Tom, you have got to stop. I mean it now. Your assholery is showing up so often at such an alarming rate, I just can't take it anymore. I'm exhausted. Every day I'm assaulted with some picture of you jumping on something or laughing obnoxiously or riding around on your stupid, stupid motorcycle. You are not 20. You are not cool anymore. And you're not sane. Please, PLEASE, just fade from the public eye. Lock yourself in your house and have scientologists whisper in hushed voices to you that you are the best. Wash your hands 60 times a day. Become the Harold Hughes of our generation. You know, I don't care what you do from now on. Just go the fuck away, so that I don't have to see your awkward ass shifting to hip-hop on BET ever again. I give up, I am done with you. The D. Wils, she is tired.

Here's the full thing...be warned, it will destroy your will to live.