Dear Steve,

I love your column. But this week's sucked. Seriously, it was awful. It was the worst thing I ever read. I hate you for sending it to me. If I ever see you, I'm going to gouge your eyes out with a melon baller. But really, I love your column. Just thought you should know.

Well, I usually love your column. Sometimes, you spell one word wrong and that error prevents me from enjoying it. Even though I clearly knew what you meant because I am the one who corrected you. Steve, the whole reason I subscribe to your column is that I am too lazy pick up a paper where it runs with the benefit of an editor. I do want the raw version of the column, but a misspelling? Come on, Steve, you owe me more than that! After all, I am the same person who sent you an email three years ago that said this same thing. Don't you remember?

You used to be funnier, too. You used to write perfect columns every single week and now you've gotten terrible. I don't ever remember disliking one out of your hundreds of columns before now because everything that happened in the past is better than the present. Except for when I wrote you a similarly worded email three years ago. That time I didn't like it either. But I've forgotten about that completely, even though I am still upset at you for simply saying thank you and not addressing why I didn't like that particular column.

Speaking of which, that email also asked you questions that were clearly addressed in previous columns. How come you simply thanked me for writing to you and haven't addressed those questions? I am a loyal reader! I read your column every week! Except for the ones which would have answered my questions.

I also asked you to read my hastily written blog and forward it to the editors of Maxim. I heard you used to write for them several years ago. Why haven't you helped me yet? I am clearly too lazy to help myself, so I really need your help. I am also too lazy to spell check my blog, but I need everything you send me to have no typos or my head will explode. Oh, and when I asked you for help in becoming a professional writer, that book you suggested I read was way too long. What, do you really think I'm serious about this profession? I want to be successful, not work. Yeesh.

By the way, your hyphen came out as an odd looking character on my web browser. That is clearly your fault.

You really are slipping. Do you remember that one column you wrote that applied to me more than the others? Why can't you repeatedly send that same one out every week? Or if you can't do that, I have an idea – why don't your write a column about me and my friends? We have many zany antics that are extremely zany and filled with zaniness. My blog about them bores people to tears, but I bet you could find something funny and universally appealing. Wait, this isn't going to be in your column, is it? Oh, I'm so wasted.

You've also gotten too bitter. I don't think it's funny when you attack things. Except if you attack things I don't like. That's awesome. But when you compliment things I don't like, you've gotten soft. You bitter softee, you.

I'm not sure why I still read your column, considering how bitter and soft you are. And how you never write about me specifically, though I hope you don't write about this. And how you haven't helped me even though I am clearly unwilling to help myself. And how you ignore my questions just because I've ignored your answers. And how I think you used to be funnier, until you write a column I find funny again, and then every week thereafter I think you used to be funnier. Sometimes, I think I'd unsubscribe from your column if I could just read the directions how. See, I can't read English. Except if I'm correcting you. Then I'm awesome at it.

But most importantly, I just wanted to say keep up the good work. Except for this week's column, which was terrible. You obviously wrote it just for you.

Your Biggest Fan

Steve Hofstetter is the author of the Student Body Shots books, which are available at and bookstores everywhere. He can be e-mailed at