I HATE PETER AT THE BAR

You are the biggest asshole I have ever met in my life... you pursued me for days until I decided to hang out with you and then we slept together and of course things changed, even after I told you I didn't want to sleep with you cause I knew I was going to regret it, and even then you kept me thinking there was something there, and then what? you stopped contacting me, won't even say hi to me, what is wrong with you, why couldn't you just go for one of the sluts that hangs out at your bar, why make SUCH an effort I mean 10 texts a day everyday for three days?? who does that for a girl they just want to sleep with, I was nothing but a chase, all you wanted was to sleep with me because I'm not one of those easy girls you're so used to, why introduce me to all your friends? why lead me on, knowing that I am not THAT type of girl, that if I slept with you it was only because I really liked you, you waited for me to fall and as soon as you lost interest you didn't even have the decency to tell me "hey, maybe we should just be friends" that is all I asked for, go on to completely ignore me for no reason, I was never clingy, I didn't call you every day, all I wanted was some respect... you are an idiot and you have no idea what you are missing out on, I was too good for you anyway, I mean you are never getting anywhere, I have a degree and a career, I never needed a looser like you. and you know what? I know I'm better off, and I know when we bump into each other again you are going to regret being such an ass.... I hope you're happy for making me feel like shit!! Have a nice life ASS!

I HATE PETER IN MY OLD RELATIONSHIP

I hate you Peter for hitting me. It was a really wimpy hit, but still you fucking hit me! 8 years of drama grief and strife 8 years and after the divorce, the dissolution of our business and 3 years of sobriety on MY part you finally decide to hit me? Without provocation THIS time? You are such a fucking weenie loser Peter. You are way behind the times my doormat and I'm going to continue to move on... to a better place... without losers like you who can't even leave a bruise. You hit like a 7 year old girl scout doped up on katamine. Get a life far away from me.
Fed up in self-reliance land

I HATE PETER IN MY HOUSE

I hate you Peter. You are not the father. I only keep you around so you
can do my housework and give me money. You are never having vagina off
me again. I will keep you till you die and I can get your life insurance.

I HATE PETER IN ATLANTA, WHO I ONLY COMMUNICATE WITH OVER THE PHONE

OH Peter. I thought some of the people I worked with are stupid, but you... well you just take stupid to a level that I've never experienced. You make everyone I work with look like Greek philosophy students who sit around discussing the Allegory of the Cave. You, Peter, probably don't know the definition of allegory, of for that matter cave.

Here's the thing. I know we're in a partnership. I know we have to "work together." But just because I'm sharing tape with you does not mean I have to be the editorial and logistics information center for my company as well as yours. YOUR company doesn't pay me to know which group that politician was speaking to today and where that group's convention was located. YOUR company doesn't pay me to provide information, that if you were doing your job (which on paper is the exact same as mine) you would already know.

Unfortunately, Peter, your company also doesn't pay me to tell you four simple little words that really do solve many of life's work-related information problems. Those words are, "Just Fucking Google It." Just do it. Just google it.

I'm going to share a secret with you. I didn't know where that convention was taking place today either. I didn't magically have the knowledge. So you know what I did, instead of calling you Peter, and asking... I just fucking googled it. It took a couple of tries but I stumbled on to a city and a time and even a mission statement.

I'm not trying to say I'm smarter than you Peter, I'm just more resourceful. And, well smarter. Yes, I'm smarter than you.

I've asked around about you Peter. I've asked people, "How'd Peter get that job?" Know one seems to know. The whisper is you've already slept your way to the middle. I hope for your sake your looks aren't the first thing to go. Not that I know what you look like since I only speak to you on the phone. But since you are exceedingly stupid, you better damn well be like 8000 times more beautiful than I am.

Just know this Peter, if there is some way I can get you fired so that I never have to speak to you again. I'll figure it out. Watch your back Peter. Watch your back.

- Mercilessly Plotting Mayhem in Manhattan

I HATE PETER AT THE OFFICE

I hate you Peter for your ridiculoulsy loud voice.

We sit in an open plan office and you, Peter, have the lungs of a Mammoth.

I have an idea, why not save on phone charges and just lean your head out of the window and talk. Any of the clients will surely hear you.

I go home with a headache each day, all I can hear when I go to sleep is your booming foghorn voice and frankly, Peter, it has to stop.

My God I hate you Peter

Deaf in Leeds

I HATE YOU, PETER CREATED BY ACTIVISION THAT COMES WITH A NOVELTY GUITAR CONTROLLER

So, I just bought you, Peter, about a week ago and I'm addicted. I play you in the morning, I play you at night. I play you in my sleep. My fingers are mashing out fake chords from you right now. I'm not very good at you, but I'm obsessed with you. Damn you Activision. My fingers hurt. I'm losing sleep. I'm missing work. A lot of work. I hear your songs in my head. In fact I'm typing this to the beat of your latest song, Peter, that I can't seem to beat on "Expert." I need help. I was sitting at the bar with a girl the other night and a song came on and I was like "I know how to play this," ... on Peter III. Then she came over the my house and broke my lawn chair. Long story.

Also, I already know the entire soundtrack to you, Peter, and even though you already cost me like $70 bucks for you plus a novelty Fender-shaped controller, I have to buy more songs to download. And I'll definitely have to buy Peter II. and Peter III. and probably Peter IV, when it comes out. I can play you accoustically. Late at night, when my roommates are trying to sleep, I have to turn the volume down and all I hear are the clicking noises of your multicolored buttons. I hear it now.

Clickclickclick. Click Click. Click Click. Clickclickclick click click clickclickclick clickclick. I LOVE that song, which I think is by Black Sabbath. But I can't seem to master the bridge to My Name is Jonas. I guess I just need to practice more.

I hate you, Peter. I just want my life back.

- Played out in Philly

I HATE PETER IN THE CORNER OFFICE WITH A VIEW

I hate you, Peter.

You sit in your office all day and you don't do shit. That Ph.D. didn't get you anywhere- it only taught you that thinking is somehow equivalent to working. That's why I prefer to call it "getting shit done." Are you solving the world's problems in there? Better hire someone to write while you dictate, otherwise it will never be passed down and we will never understand the depth of your profound arguments. But I forgot- we are incompetent. We wouldn't understand anyway.

That must be why your emails are so long - because we aren't smart enough to understand concision. One must need a Ph.D. to understand exactly how fucking smart you really are. You are so goddamn smart that you take credit for all of our work and give us a "Thanks!" email with a smily face it in. However did you practice your manipulative techniques before email? Whatever would you have done without CC: and BCC:? You get so much work done that way!

Peter, one day I'm going to walk smiley-faced into your office and tell you about the new job I have. I'm going to thank you for the opportunity I had to learn so much from doing all of your work. My face will be smiling but my brain will be saying "I hate you, Peter. Fuck you very much."

Shot out to my ladies cube-side that hate Peter, too.

Love/Hate,
Restless in Wisconsin