DEAR JOHN MAYER:

I thought we had a deal. After having to review the latest steaming pile of crap that you've unloaded on unsuspecting sorority girls and soccer moms, I was happy taking a little bit of a break from each other. I've begrudingly admitted that you're a pretty decent guitarist and think you'd probably make a comfortable living as a session musician who didn't open his giant marble filled mouth. But you probably wouldn't get to bang Jessica Simpson that way. And I guess I can appreciate that to an extent. So I've done my best to find a compromise, avoiding any radio stations that might play your latest "Give Peace a Chance" wannabe drivel, programmed my Directv to avoid VH1, The View (well, that's not entirely on you) and even that episode of Chappelle's Show where you tried to convince black people you were cool - before you did that whole unfortunate standup thing - by playing bass in a barber shop. So imagine my surprise during an afternoon of football viewing yesterday when you and your stupid scrunchy shut-eyed "I'm channeling Jimi" face showed up on my screen every damn commercial break (and in HD, no less) to pimp the new Volkswagen. While I'm thankful that you weren't playing any of your new 'material,' I really didn't think VW could make a more horrifying ad then the ones where all those random people get smashed to pieces. Unless you plan on standing on the 50 yard line at the Meadowlands and letting the entire Giants defense hit you at full speed, please do not appear on screen during football again. I don't disrupt you when you watch the Ghost Whisperer or attend support groups for men with three nipples (so legend has it) or whatever it is you do in your free time. Don't interfere with my hobbies.

Sincerely,
Angry Freelancer