Friday, March 6, 2009

Open Letters

Dear Semi-Elderly Gentleman,

I understand that it is rude to bump into someone when walking. However, do not give me the stink-eye when you choose to meander in a sinusoid rather than walk in a straight line when I, trying so hard to anticipate your direction that I trip over my own feet and nearly fall, accidentally bump into your undulating-ass self. I was not in the wrong you cranky-ass over-entitled jerk. Look where you're going instead of at the damn subway ads and maybe this will happen less often.

Hugs and kisses,


Dear Max Power,

While I am impressed at your recent display of ingenuity, I am not impressed by your dissemination of a nearly full box of 500 now half-chewed Q-tips throughout my house. That cupboard was closed for a reason. To foil you and your Q-tip loving ways. You are to cease and desist all cupboard-opening activities immediately you obnoxious little scoundrel!

Scritches and purrs,


Dear Garbage-collecting Person(s) or Neighborhood Asshole (to be determined),

What in the damn hell did I ever do to you? My garbage can is always placed neatly at the edge of the curb, on time, never obnoxiously overstuffed, and I pay my bill quite promptly! In fact, I've never met or seen you, since you make your rounds while I am at work, and I pretty much keep to myself, so I am not sure exactly what I could have done to insult you. The first time I found my garbage can thrown unceremoniously on the ground, I thought, hey maybe someone bumped into it and knocked it over. The next few times, I thought it was a bit weird that I seem to be the only person on the block with this problem. By the fifth time, I was starting to suspect it was being done on purpose. But the twelfth time, oh that took the cake. Finding my receptacle halfway down the block, in the street, on a day that was both raining and snowing, completely and perfectly inverted, mud clearly smeared on the handle, with just enough of a basin in the bottom that when righted, dirty water splashed all over me, that's when I knew you cared. Fuck you. Fuck your mother, fuck your father, and fuck your fucking horse. What the damn hell?

Sugar and spice,


Dear Ass,

Kindly stop being so big and refusing to shrink even when I lose weight.


Dear People who Also Work Here,

I know you're overworked and busy, and that the elevator doors usually only open for half a second, but it is generally considered rude to perch at the elevator door then rush in without letting any previous passangers exit, first. Especially when said passengers include 800 year old people with walkers. Kindly settle the fuck down, move the fuck over and wait your goddamn turn.

Warmest Regards,


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