Dear Dude in a big green ugly government truck:
Um, hon, there’s a reason they call it a sidewalk. Mainly because you WALK ON IT, not drive your big green ugly government truck on it. I know you weren’t expecting me to be doing anything groundbreaking like, you know, walking on the actual sidewalk, but sadly I had to park slightly past the Canadian border and hoof it into work today because some moron decided that a meeting a 7:30am would be a really terrific idea, thus, I couldn’t exactly just cross the hillside into my building. Silly me, I believed using the sidewalk would help me to avoid being run over. Apparently, despite my ass the size of a small continent and my two hundred pounds of hair, you didn’t see me there.
Additionally? When you see a stop sign, that doesn’t mean gun your engine and try to pull out in front of the 200 year old janitor riding a go-cart down the street. I just think that would cause you some karma that you don’t want to have to deal with.
That Chick you almost ran over this morning.
I would like to apologize for how I potentially smell today. I had to park just inside of
That Chick who is going to look into Clinical Strength Deodorant
Dear Guy in the white Suburban who tried to run me over this morning:
I know I really usurped your manhood by actually merging into traffic in front of you. I know you expected me to come to a complete stop at the yield sign and not you know, yield into traffic. You made that clear when you sped up from 15 MPH to 35 MPH when you saw me coming because GOD FORBID a woman in an small SUV might get in front of YOU.
But actually, you know, bite me.
That Chick who still made it through the guard station before you. You loser.
Dear everyone in line to pass through the guard station:
Dudes. Seriously. There are two lanes. One has twenty-six cars in it, the other has one. Why do you line up behind the twenty-six cars? I know everyone else is doing it, but that just seems like a reason to try drugs or get a MySpace page. Go in the other line!
Or actually, never mind. Don’t. I’ll go in the other line. I’ll even wave to you!
That Chick who passed twenty-six cars as she went through the guard station this morning and didn’t even have to speed to do it.
Okay, when I emailed you and said that I missed you because no one here wanted to hear me talking about lactating strippers and you emailed me back and said, “There’s not much laughter in that building. Only guns and sadness”, I laughed so hard I nearly peed my freaking pants.
I really miss you!
That Chick who is totally the Pam to your Jim, except everyone we work with is like Michael or Dwight and while I think you are great, I totally wouldn’t want to date you.
Dear people who live on my street:
At 10pm when my little dog wants to go outside and take a crap? She really doesn’t want to have four hundred people screaming and shrieking and acting like fishwives. Okay? My DOG behaves more appropriately than you people. When she’s looking for a spot to do her business and you start barking like you’re a dog? She looks at you like, “What the hell?” She didn’t bark back at you. She didn’t try to run you down. She looked at you in DISGUST. My DOG looked at you in DISGUST.
I understand that no one in your life has ever acted right; therefore you don’t know how stupid you appear when you act like a tool. I mean, you never had a good example, right? Here are a few ideas to help you:
- Screaming anything involving curse words loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear is not appropriate.
- Ditto screaming anything that involves any sex organs.
- There is absolutely no reason to shriek, “Yeeeeeeeeeha!” at 10pm. None. Not one. You are not Bo or Luke Duke and Boss Hogg is not hot on your trail.
- Barking at a dog just makes you look like an idiot. Even the dog can recognize that.
- We do not need to hear your stereo. Or your television. Ever.
- Your children should not be playing in the street when it’s dark. Yes, it’s a residential street, but still, it’s a STREET. Which, in case you are like the guy who almost ran over me on the sidewalk this morning and you are confused, is for DRIVING ON. You have a front yard. You know, that place where you parked those twelve cars that don’t run? You have a backyard. You have a home. Your child should be playing in one of those areas. Not the street.
- Drinking 12 beers does not make you sexy. Or smart. Or anything except drunk.
- Telling your wife or girl you are sleeping with or whatever, to “SUCK IT”, while technically not mentioning any sex organs, is still pretty foul. Please stop doing that.
- Threatening to kill your brother or cousin or whomever is sleeping on your couch is also a no-no and probably even illegal in this state.
- Toilets go INSIDE the home. Yes, I see that you have decoratively planted flowers in the one sitting on your front porch. However, that still does not make it appropriate décor. Please reconsider this choice.
- Playing basketball at 11pm after you’ve had the 12 beers is not a solid plan for getting your daily cardio. Sadly, you have difficulty walking in an upright position even while sober. Lurching about, threatening to kill people, and vomiting isn’t going to make you feel the burn.
Basically, the people who live three houses down from you are not interested in what you are doing, saying, or changing into. Not now, or ever. Please stop shrieking, stop running amok throughout the neighborhood, and for the love of all that is Holy, put up some curtains.
The neighbor who hates you
Dear Engaged Couple,
I really like both of you, but I sincerely wish you would rethink the theme song of your wedding. “I don’t have the heart”, while lovely, somehow seems inappropriate for a wedding. Have you ever actually LISTENED to the lyrics? They, in part, state:
“But I don't have the heart to love you
Not the way you want me to”
If that is the way you really feel, perhaps you should rethink this union.
Also? Use “Love will keep us together” by Captain and Tennille. I hear all the cool kids use that as their wedding song.