“Generally, I am uncomfortable with you. However, when I was at the bowling alley the other day, you were the only word to run repeatedly through my mind…..”
Tag: open letters
In an open letter to Rutherford B. Hayes,
“”I have to confess that your beard has always reminded me of Shredded Wheat cereal. This reminds me of a man at the gym who’s moustache makes me think of coarsely-ground coffee beans. President Hayes, on second thought, this might not be about you at all.”
In an open letter to the very well curated young woman perched precariously on a ledge not intended for sitting,
“I noticed you trying to take a selfie as you positioned both your camera and your cigarette just so. I hope you don’t set yourself on fire one day. Seriously. Be careful.”
In an open letter to the neighbor in the throes of a football game,
“I am not sure how you’re managing to scream out in a way that sounds like you’re yelling directly into my apartment. That I live on the second floor, and that I don’t directly face anyone, makes this even more perplexing. I wonder if this is an achievement of voice or some strong voice-related muscles….”
In an open letter to her judgmental self,
“You have got to take a break. The things you thought on Friday are still with us today. I think that you should be forced to wear a scarlet J because your thoughts are, at times, quite ungenerous. Work on this, okay? In the meanwhile, please continue to keep those most vile thoughts to yourself. […]
In an open letter to Salt N Pepa,
“I know this is the last thing that you want to hear, but this is something that plagues me. You know that part in ‘None of Your Business’ when you sing, ‘…and you shouldn’t even get into who I’m givin’ skins to?” You know what I see in my mind each and every time I […]
In an open letter to the goose I saw running parallel to the road the other day,
“I saw you on Monday. It is Thursday and I still think about you a few times a day. Why were you running? Where were you going? There was something so funny about seeing the way your body moved back and forth. I had to look at you again as you disappeared from my rear […]
In an open letter to her paranoia,
“Okay, it’s time to stop bombarding me with all of the horrible things that one could easily do to me if they just swiped my glasses. The scenario is different each time, and just as scary as the last. Stop doing this to me.”