So, when I want a knocking-on-the-back-door-of-Hades kind of laugh, I go to Slushpile Hell. You know it?
It's a grumpy literary agent posting excerpts from some of his worst cover letters. It's just for fun, and I totally get his frustration.
A typical entry:
I would like you to consider my 60,000 word typed autobiography.
Oooh, a typed autobiography. I guess you think you’re better than all of us, Mr. Fancy Boy who types his manuscript. Hey, you’re NO better than us! Hastily scrawled crayon on discarded Big Mac wrappers works just fine, thank you very much.A little gallows humor for your day.