“I never would have put those ingredients together, but I trusted you. I am glad. Thanks!”
Open Letters:
from me to some of everyone
In an open letter to her neighbors,
“I want you to know something about all of the alcohol you see me carrying up to my apartment. I am cooking with some of that!”
Tags: alcohol, neighbors, questionable, watching
In an open letter to the woman who rides the same bus I ride occasionally,
“I’d recognize the over-tan and the ‘blonde’ hair anywhere, but what has piqued my interest is learning that you own a puggle, you dress it up, and that you speak of it with such a love that it’s fascinating. Woman, who ARE you?”
Tags: busses, public transportation, puggles, tans
In an open letter to her blogs,
“My least favorite thing about you is the spam. I understand that it’s sort of like saying to an acquaintance that your least favorite thing about them is their friends, but the truth is the truth.”
Tags: inconvenience, spam
In an open letter to T-Pain,
“I’m having trouble envisioning her ‘climbing’ that pole. Just sayin’.”
In an open letter to songs that talk about “going all night long,”
“”Every time I hear this business about going all night long, I question the narrator for any number of reasons. That phrase has the power to ruin an otherwise perfectly good song. It gives me fits.”
In an open letter to the dude who waved at her this evening,
“I just want you to know that I was looking at your car, by that I mean your pimp ride. You can’t expect someone to peel her eyes away from that thing. Waving just made me feel weird. Just sayin’.”
In an open letter to the orange woman I saw on the bus,
“I have to say that I was embarrassed to take that bold-double take. Then I noticed your clearly blonde mane; what are they calling that color? ‘This side of white?’. This combination made me scope you out for other signs of enhancement. Let me tell you, that push up bra of yours is a miracle! You keep doing your thing, girl. Ciao!”
In an open letter to her hair,
“There is a fine line between bouncy and puffy. Today, I think you crossed the line.”
In an open letter to walnuts,
“You are the perfect desk snack for me. It doesn’t take too many of you to take the edge off of mid-afternoon hunger. That, and I don’t like you quiet enough to ever over-indulge. I’m good with our relationship. Thanks for that.”