I have a stalker

My weekend has been completely ruined. This anonymous letter came through in the post, made up of cut out magazine letters. I read it twice and then shat myself:

W H Y D I D N T
U
C O M M I S S I O N
M E 4 Y E A R S A G O
U C U N T S U C K E R !
I
W I L L
F U C K I NG
G E T
U!

Who the fuck could this be? How did they get my home address?!! I tried to remember who I might have pissed off 4 years ago. It didn't help much. To be honest it could be one of hundreds of people......

These rejected downtrodden producers have NO idea what it's like on my side of the desk having to constantly be polite about substandard ideas. If only they could see the relentless pressure I'm under. The thankless task of having to predict the popular tastes of a nation. The Machiavellian ruthlessness of my fellow colleagues. The incredibly short shelf life of my career.

Have some fucking pity on me will you! But no, instead they take one rejection so fucking personally!

The letter put me in a nervy mood all day. I switched back to my pirate copy of The Secretary (director's X-Rated cut) to try and unwind.

My enemies can try and attack me, but I will prevail!