Dear Very White Hippie Generation Clerk at the Fabric Store,
I’m sure you did get many funny looks when you went out in public with your son from your first marriage (to a black man), your two white daughters (from another relationship) and the children of your Indian (as in “from India”) boyfriend. Thanks for the over-share. For the record? My sons aren’t Asian because I get around, so I don’t think we really had a bonding moment while I swiped my credit card through your little machine and the seven old ladies behind me in line leaned way in to better hear your story and gawk at my children.
Thank you for again lowering the price on that item that I’ve been saving in my cart for later for a couple of months now. It may be time to buy it.
That was a huge hint.
I know You are omniscient and all that, but enough with the clouds already, mmkay? I just can’t see a productive purpose to them. If you can, I’d appreciate you letting me in on the secret.
Dear Commercial Developers,
In general I think of you as greedy land rapists. Prove me wrong, I dare you. Buy one of the endless farms fields around here and throw up a mall, some restaurants, and maybe even a Target. Given the lack of development around here, that wouldn’t really be raping the land so much as sneaking out on it the morning after without even leaving a note. Plus, it would prove that you aren’t greedy since, you know, you won’t make any money off of all 300 people who live in this town.
Dear Russian Mafia,
I am not an idiot. Stop leaving spam comments on my blog, because I’m not going to click on any of your links. And? Statistically speaking, chances are very high that you already have all the information you need to steal my identity anyway. It’s what you do.
The cat’s out of the bag. We know you can say “milk please.” All this screaming and grunting is getting you nothing but a very dry throat. Give it up.
Dear Makers of Tinker Toys,
I took your product to church last night as a prop for a video the 8-11 year-old kids were making. Most of them didn’t know what Tinker Toys are. Step up your marketing, you’ve got a good product there.
Dear Parents of Said Kids,
Enjoy the video you get for Christmas this year because I’m never doing that again.
Hey! Thanks for listening! I actually see the sun on my lawn. A bit. I’ll take it!
Dear Tank Boy,
I understand the love of food and eating, but geesh! You take it to a new level. I fully expect a growth spurt of at least three feet in the next two months.
Dear Suzanne Collins,
As just a tiny bit of a writer myself, I know this isn’t how it works, but I’m going to ask anyway: Will you please write faster?
Dear Robert Pattinson,
According to the search terms that have brought people to my blog in the past few days, I am not the only one wondering what was going on with your nipples in that movie. Please feel free to explain in the comments.
Tewt the Newt was going to go bask in the sun, but it’s gone again. *sigh*
Edited to add:
Dear Husband Who Diligently Reads My Blog,
When you order said item using my Amazon account I get the confirmation email, thereby ruining any chance of some sort of Christmas surprise. But thank you.