Wednesday, December 30, 2009

An Open Letter To The Woman Standing Behind Me At The Post Office

Dear Woman Standing Behind Me At The Post Office,

Wow, from listening to your phone conversation it sounds like your family is going through some really hard times. Why is your mom such a bitch? And why was she SO MEAN to Katherine the other night at dinner? I mean, all Kat did was make a simple joke about her beer and your mom flipped out! How does your father put up with her?!

And now I'm wondering why they can't just make up their mind about their anniversary next year. I think going on a cruise sounds fabulous! And like you told Kat, it's a big boat so you two won't have to put up with your mother the whole time, ha ha.

Oh, and by the way...I CAN HEAR YOU! The person in front of me can hear you. The person behind you can hear you. You are standing 5 inches away from me. You are not in an invisible phone booth. Some conversations need take place in the privacy of your own home. I mean, what would your mother think!

Stop Airing Your Dirty Laundry In Public,
Brooke Amanda

Monday, December 28, 2009

An Open Letter To Charlie Sheen

Dear Charlie,

Hey man, how’s it going? I’m guessing not well based on the fact you got your ass arrested and thrown in jail on Christmas for allegedly holding a knife to your wife’s throat and threatening to kill her. Ouch. I understand that your baby momma was legally drunk at 8:30 in the morning (CLASSY) and probably had it coming, but still… this is getting embarrassing.

Charlie, I think you just need to stop getting married and stop procreating. Do you really need to be populating the planet with your crazy genes?! You already had THREE kids by two previous women and you really felt the need to have twins with this crazy bitch, who by the way has my same name? Don’t think for a second I’m not pissed that Brooke Mueller is desecrating the name Brooke for all of us!

Why don’t you just concentrate on your acting career, which right now consists solely of “Two And A Half Men,” and help that kid who plays your nephew slim down the chunk because he is getting FAAAAT. Maybe help your dad, Martin, do some political stuff or help your brother, Emilio, find ANY sort of an acting role since I don’t think I’ve seen him on film since “The Mighty Ducks.” I know you can do it , Charlie! I have faith in you!

Stay Away From Those Crazy Bitches,
Brooke Amanda

Friday, December 18, 2009

An Open Letter To The Idiot Who Almost Ran Into Me In The Mall Parking Lot

Dear Idiot Who Almost Ran Into Me In The Mall Parking Lot,

Do you see those bright yellow arrows on the cement? They indicate which way you can turn into the parking lanes. You CANNOT drive the wrong way or you will cause a head-on the one you almost caused tonight by going the wrong way, full speed ahead, then looking angrily at me like I was the one at fault. I hope someone totals your car. Merry f**king Christmas, dickworm!

You are a shitty driver,
Brooke Amanda

Saturday, November 7, 2009

An Open Letter To Public Bathroom Toilet Paper

Dear TP,

I've been unfortunate enough to need your assistance a time or two in my day, and you never fail to disappoint. Perhaps if I was looking to take my quarter panel down to the primer you would be up for the job. Or if I needed to write something down but didn't have any notebook paper handy, I bet you would be perfect in a pinch. But when it comes to doing the job for which you're most often employed, you are woefully out of your depth. Like a lazy janitor two days from retirement, you do the basic cleaning, but you leave out that extra...something...that would be so appreciated. You softness. Absorbency. Ease of use. It's the little things that make all the difference. Don't settle for "just getting by", TP. You're better than that.

Unable to sit,


Friday, September 11, 2009

An Open Letter To Martha Stewart

Dear God, Martha. Seriously. While this lobster baby would be tasty, I'm sure, with some melted garlic butter and horseradish, it's still a lobster stuffed with live baby at the end of the day. Jesus Christ.

<3, JuliaD

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Dear Weight-Watchers

Dear Weight Watchers:

I have tried your low-fat cheesecake. I generally approve. I just have to ask: how is your low fat cheesecake lowfat? Isn't, like, the number one ingredient in cheesecake, like cheesecake? I just don't understand. On the other hand, though, your low-fat cheesecakes are seriously half crumble base. Which isn't cheesecake. It's crumble base. Which is very different. Still tasty, but very different. Just to let you know. I could make low-fat twinkies by selling half a twinky on a Saltine cracker base. But it wouldn't be a half-fat twinkie. Well, I guess it would, literally, be a half-fat twinkie, but it would be a suckie half-fat twinkie. Well, it would be a half twinkie with a saltine-cracker base. I guess my point is that it would suck. And your low-fat cheesecakes kinda suck. They're fine, really, but not exceptional. Just not exceptional. Just want you to know.

much love,

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

An Open Letter to My Dog

An Open Letter to My Dog

Dear Snuggles:

Please take note of the following...

No, I do not happen to find it cute when you decide to expel the contents of your special butt glands on the couch. Or my bed. Nor do I think it's adorable when you go and plant the aforementioned butt upon my favorite unblemished pillow.

That's not another pit bull across the room that just happens to look exactly like you and coincidentally barks at you at the exact same time as you bark at him. That would be a mirror.

You might want to consider the fact that if you eat something odd, it's probably gonna feel odd coming out the other end, too. Don't eat sticks, rocks, shards of glass, sea anemones, or discarded syringes otherwise it's almost certainly going to feel a bit pokey the second time around. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The same goes for trying to eat the frog you found in the yard. There will likely foaming at the mouth involved within seconds of getting hold of it.

Lastly, that one sticky-uppy ear, the eye patch and the ever wiggly-butt are incredibly endearing and yes, you may use those things to your advantage.



P.S. You are my most favoritest thing. Ever.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

An Open Letter To Shawn & Heather

Dear Shawn & Heather,

Where the hell are you guys?! I'm seriously thinking of hiring a David Addison/Maddie Hayes type PI team to find your whereabouts. Shark Tank hasn't posted in over an month now and Heather Cherry is right behind him. Julia, do you know where our missing authors are at? Seriously, I can't write this blog by myself! I have two other blogs to write!

Hope everything is okay,
Brooke Amanda

Friday, August 14, 2009

An Open Letter To Scarlett Johansson

Dear ScarJo,

You can quit trying to be a singer anytime now. Seriously, you're not very good at it. On a sidenote, your husband is hot. Just thought I'd throw that in there.

Please Stick To Acting,
Brooke Amanda

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

An Open Letter To The Geek Squad

Dear Geek Squad,

Thanks for taking THREE weeks to fix my computer. I probably could have figured out how to repair it in that amount of time. Oh, and thanks for NOT calling me to tell me it was ready to pick up. Awesome, awesome job guys. Do any of you EVER get laid? Just wondering.

F**k You All,

Brooke Amanda

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

An Open Letter to My Letter Opener

Dear Letter Opener,

Hey, remember that time I used you once? Not to open a letter, but to take that screw out of the bottom of my desk, in lieu of a flathead screwdriver. You really came in handy and I wanted you to know I appreciated your help, even if I find my index finger more than capable of handling traditional letter opening situations.


Thursday, July 9, 2009

Open Letter To the Word Verification

Deerrr Word Verification att thu bodum uv thu komint sexun uv mi fayvert blogggirz:

Wy doo yew lerk beeloh wen wee syn awff, staen tu thu vuree lasd menet, lyk thu lefd ovir dizguzteeng bakkwarsh inna 2-yeer ols sippeee kupp?

Uhbowt thu tym wee theenk wee arr dun maykn owr phunnee komints wee ind upp tripppen ovr yew. Soh itz tym yew herrd frum uhs. Juz reed ahn, yew liddl bockz uv nooisunz.

Awww, wut's thu maddur? Caynt reed thiz leddir??? Let's try it my way.

Perhaps a different font would make it a little more interesting, hmmm?!

Let's try a little Webdings...can ya read this????

Let's try a little Webdings...can ya read this????

No??? UH-oh! TOO bad, do over!!!! Do it over I said! Well, too bad. Go away and stop annoying all of us. You are not needed here.

Really perturbed (that's p-e-r-t-u-r-b-e-d),


PS- "Word Verification" about ACTUAL's not like you would ever run out....or how about spellcheck, you oxymoron!

[Editor's Note: After reading this letter I had to inform my mom, the author of this letter, that she has had Word Verification turned on in her blog settings all this time.]

Monday, July 6, 2009

Our First Award!

We here at The Open Letters Blog would like to thank all the little people that made this award possible. We'd also like to thank the little chihuahua in a cup that made this award so cute. And I think I speak for my fellow bloggers when I say, "Thank you for the recognition!" Actually, I don't speak for the other guys... they're total ingrates.

Thanks to Lindsay over at the awesome blog Shrimp Salad Circus for the great award!

You LIKE us, you really LIKE us!

Heather Cherry

Thursday, July 2, 2009

An Open Letter to the Person Who Painted the Ambulance I Saw Today

Dear Ambulance Artists,

I don't know how to tell you this, but you completely BOTCHED the word "Ambulance" on the front of the vehicle. I realize dyslexia is a serious condition, but what you did was worse than dyslexia. It's almost like you did it on purpose. Well, funny joke...I guess...but an emergency vehicle doesn't really seem like the appropriate place for a prank. Just my opinion.


Monday, June 29, 2009

An Open Letter to the "Home" Key on My Keyboard

An Open Letter to the "Home" Key on My Keyboard

Dear "Home" Key:

How come you don't work? I have pressed you several times this morning yet here at work I remain. You suck.

Warmest regards,


P.S. Maybe I should invest in a Ruby Slippers Button.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

An Open Letter To Fiber One Bars

Dear Fiber One Bars,

Thank you for being truly delicious and making me have extremely satisfying poohs. If it weren't for your tasty little bars, I shudder to think how irregular I would be.

The Owner Of A Very Happy Colon,
Brooke Amanda

Open Letter to the Sport of Tennis

Open Letter to the Sport of Tennis

Dear Tennis,

What is your deal? You obviously think your special. Using all those words like "love" and crap in your scores. What is wrong with a number score, huh? What do you have against 5-0, or "its tied up" or "scoreless". I mean, "deuce"? It isnt a card game for Pete's sake, its a sport with a ball, which should use the number system. Oh and if that isnt bad enough, your female players wear skirts. Well, la-ti-da, arent you something? Please. Oh, and your fans? Boring. Their polite little applause like they all sticks up their bums. How about some shouting in the stands? Or someone throwing a plastic beer cup, or a people with painted faces? Nope, too good for that obviously. Then you go and put yourself into a wii game, and now my children are using your ridiculous terms for scores, and frankly, its making me ill. Please stop the insanity.



A Baseball, Football and Soccer Mom

Monday, June 22, 2009

Open Letter to the Drunk Guy at the Concert in Chicago

Open Letter to the Drunk Guy at the Concert in Chicago

Dear Across-the-aisle-just-3-feet-away-endlessly-puking-perpetually-spewing-idiot-who-had-WAAAAAAAAAY-too-much-beer-at-the-Corona-sponsored-tailgating-party-before-the-Kenny-Chesney-Sun-City-Carnival-Tour-concert-ever-even-started-at-4PM-so-that-you-were-totally-passed-out-while-providing- quite-the-disgustingly-memorable-projectile-emetic-show,

So. I'm guessing you won't ever eat peanuts I right?

No pity for you,


PS- Too bad about your boots....and your shirt.....your jacket.......jeans....the guy in front of idgit.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

An Open Letter to the Kid at the Grocery Store

An Open Letter to the Kid at the Grocery Store

An Open Letter to the Kid at the Grocery Store that Bagged My Groceries [read: one tiny bottle of salad dressing] and When I Asked if You Could Help Me Carry It Out to My Car You Said "Sure!":

I was kidding.

Thanks, though.


Heather Cherry

Thursday, June 11, 2009

An Open Letter To Dry-Lipped Crafters

Dear Fellow Lip-Balm-Loving Crafters,

I can see what you're going for here. I really can. You've decided that you love your lip balm enough to bestow upon it a special lip-balm-cozy, and god bless you for your creative gumption. What I'm calling foul on here, though, isn't the relative pointlessness of these laboriously crafted chapstick protectors, shockingly. Instead, I would like to implore you to look, just seriously look, at the bizarre tomfuckery you put together for this purpose. And then maybe you can answer me why the top cozy appears to resemble some kind of massive and generally unnecessary lip-balm lion depository (although the lion does seem to be enjoying it an awful lot, I'll give you that), and the bottom one, well, I won't even go there.

Seriously people. Think these things through. If you have to put your chapstick away by shoving it up a felt lion's gaping ass, or by sliding it inside a suspiciously-shaped pastel knitted sock with balls, you have failed.

Just sayin'.


Monday, June 8, 2009

An Open Letter To Publix Supermarkets, Inc.

Dear Publix,

I write this letter with a heavy heart. For a long time, you've taken the strong lead when it comes to excellence in grocery, and I am proud to call you my favorite Florida supermarket. However, there is an issue I can no longer stand by and ignore.

Every time I purchase your ground beef, steaks, or pork chops, they go green and moldy within a single day of being in my pantry. Every time!

I've found myself forced to eat any such meats immediately upon returning home, leaving me with a situation where I am painfully full for one day, and then starving for the next six. I don't expect your meats to last forever, but I think they should be good for at least a few days, don't you agree?

Thinking of going to Piggly Wiggly,

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

An Open Letter to the Kid Who Just Shot My Car With a Water Gun

Dear Kid,

Really? Holding the water gun sideways, gangsta style?


Friday, May 29, 2009

An Open Letter to the Dudes in the House

An Open Letter to the Dudes in the House

Dear Fellas:

What is the deal with the hitting on me when I'm at my worst thing? I can be a sweaty, dirty, unwashed mess in a sloppy t-shirt and baggy yoga pants and you pick this time to flirt with me? I run to the Home Depot in the middle of a home improvement project or I schlep into PetSmart covered in dog fur to get Snuggles' nails ground down and apparently my ungroomed appearance translates to "Please check me out." I just don't get it. Why not when I'm all dolled up in a dress and red lipstick and all that crap? I have polled some male friends to figure out this phenomenon and I still don't understand. Don't get me wrong. It's flattering and all but it's just that..., seriously what the crap?

Please. Enlighten me.



cc: All mah grrrrrrrrls in the house... does this happen to you, too???

Thursday, May 28, 2009

An Open Letter to the President of the Lou Bega Fan Club

Dear Mambo5,

I think you can go ahead and shut it down.

Just letting you know,

Monday, May 25, 2009

An Open Letter To Memorial Day

Dear Memorial Day,

Why do have ALWAYS have to be rainy and cold?! It never fails...the day before you will be gorgeous and I'm lulled into a false sense of security. "Maybe this year will be different. Maybe I'll grill out or lay by the pool." Then, I wake up to the sound of rain falling and my dreams of a nice day off have been dashed. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me thirty years in a row, shame on me. Next year, I will NOT get my hopes up.

Sitting Inside Watching Crappy TV Shows,
Brooke Amanda

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Open Letter to Isaac Newton

Open Letter to Isaac Newton

Dear Mr. Newton,

I don't typically write about "personal" things but today is different. Being 50, every day I am reminded of your "science-changing" discovery. I mean really. Gravity?!? Come. ON!!! Thanks to you, my lovely facial structure is a thing of the past. The rosy cheeks I once had in my youth have migrated to the underside of my jawline. Instead of my Welsh/German/ English heritage being most evident by softly sculptured cheeks and patrician facial features, now I just look like a dang greedy chipmunk storing up food for the winter in its pouchy jowls. My other, cheeks used to garner compliments that would make me blush, but now they have taken up residence at a much lower altitude these days. Thanks to you, I'll be needing walking shorts pretty soon just to be decent in public. I went jogging yesterday and thought some one was running right on my heels, until I realized the 'whap-pa-ta, whap-whap-pa-ta" sound I was hearing was my below-sea-level mudflaps hitting the backs of my thighs. Way to go, Isaac! And let us not forget the inevitable, a woman's worst enemy, thanks to that big fat Red Delicious taking a bounce off your noggin. The air has certainly gone out of my tires.....and if you don't understand the analogy, well you been in the lab a liiiiitle too long. Let me tell you something, Mister. It's pretty bad when your mammo tech takes one look at your attributes, before placing your precious parts in that glorified drill press, and asks "Um, do you have implants?" A quick opening of the gown illicits a pitiful look from said mammo tech along with a mummur of "Oooooooohhhh, guess not." I reckon a picture's worth a thousand words. You could have come up with a better idea than Gravity. How about a Helium Brassiere? You could have called it the "Up, Up and Away". Or here's a thought- How about a simple jogging bra for the blessed amoung us, huh? WHY is that so hard? You science brainiacs can split the atom, and put people in space, but you can't come up with something that Paula Petralunga can jog in without looking like a freakshow or appear as if she is smuggling two small piglets under her wick-away shirt. (Obviously the heartfelt letter to Under Armour did NOT work.) Why couldn't you have discovered a way to DEFY gravity? There's a money-maker! Then every woman would love you. But instead we all have to find ways to lift, shift, undergird and overlay all sorts of things just to fight that never-ending gravitational pull!! History says that perhaps you died of mercury poisoning due to all of your strange experiments. But I wonder if you might have been strangled by an irate woman with a whale-boned corset or two...

Thanks from the bottom of MY EVERYTHING,


Thursday, May 21, 2009

An Open Letter to the Doctor in the House

Dear Doc:

I have been eating these mini-bags of buttered popcorn from a box at the back of my pantry for weeks now. I just now saw that the bags are imprinted with the following: "Best by February 2009."

Am I going to die?

Eagerly awaiting your reply,


Wednesday, May 20, 2009

An Open Letter To John Mayer

Dear John Mayer,


Just wanted to let you know,

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

An Open Letter To The Boogeyman In My Closet

Dear Boogeyman,

While you're in there, would you mind separating my button down shirts from my tees? At some point, they got all mixed together and it's become quite the hassle trying to get dressed in the morning.

Thanks so much,

Thursday, May 14, 2009

An Open Letter To Sam's Club

Holy shit! I just had the pleasure of being inside you for the first time tonight...and not in a dirty way. I was mesmerized by all your ginormous goods. Am I EVER going to eat a 30 pack of frozen turkey burgers? No, but it was only $8! If I had more room in my apartment, I would have bought the 50 pack of toilet paper, too.

And you don't just have food...I saw packs of grannie panties, swimwear, plants, furniture, books, movies...the list is endless. Families were eating in your food court. YOU HAVE A FOOD COURT! I could live in you and never want for anything again. If I could afford a $25 a month membership to you, I would sign up in a heartbeat.

Alas, I am not a member, so I don't know when I will grace you with my presence again. Hopefully sooner than later.

I miss you already,
Brooke Amanda

An Open Letter To That Owl In The Park

Dear Owl,

Me! It's me, Shawn! Now keep your voice down!


Tuesday, May 12, 2009

An Open Letter to the Unmarried Peoples of the World

This is an open letter to anyone planning on getting married. Ever.

(Please excuse the all-caps. I am not yelling, I am just typing loudly.)

Dear unmarried peoples of the world:



Thanks for listening. It needed to be said.

Love always,

p.s.: shit-coloured roses probably aren't the best idea either, just so you know.

Monday, May 11, 2009

An Open Letter To My Parakeets

Dear Sonny & Cher,

Please stop staring at me and play with your damn toys already! I spent a butt-ton of money on various colorful, wooden, hangy-things for your pimped-out cage and do you two appreciate them? No! All you do is sit on your perch and preen each other. I'm over it. If you don't start ringing the bell soon, I'm going to have to separate you. Oh, and eat the veggies I put in your seed bowl...they're good for you.

Just trying to be a good mom,
Brooke Amanda

Sunday, May 10, 2009

An open letter to Shawn

Dear Shawn,

omg dude. Your photoshop skillz are amazing. Really astounding. You should totally be proud of yourself. When I saw your portrait of me I thought at first that I was looking in a mirror. Seriously. Well done.


An Open Letter to Home Depot

Dear Home Depot,

I am really beginning to hate you. First, you NEVER have what I need. Ever. Although you are the biggest hardware store in the world, you have squat. Secondly, your help blows. Your "experts" are more often than not a bunch of idiots. I took a PAMPHLET with me for a valve for a sprinkler system, with the part number circled and showed your "expert" what I needed, for Pete's sake. He gave me something that was NOT what I needed. When I said that it was wrong, he treated me like an ignorant female, and evidently one who couldnt read. So, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, after all he was the "expert". Guess what Home Depot? It was the wrong part. I do hope that you enjoyed my husband's little visit to your establishment, with wrong part and pamphlet in hand, and a lack of being amused. Supposedly the "expert" had left for the day, but I know the truth. He was hiding behind the conduit display. A moron AND a coward. Way to go Home Depot, way to go.


Obladi Oblada

An Open Letter to Donald Duck

Dear Donald,



Friday, May 8, 2009

An Open Letter To That Guy Who Just Said "It's Not The Heat, It's The Humidity"

Dear Heat/Humidity Pontificator,

Not for nothing, but you do realize you're trapped in an oven, right?

Just checking,

Thursday, May 7, 2009

An Open Letter To Kate Gosling

Dear Kate,

Girl, looks like your man, John, has gone astray. I'm sooo shocked by this news, seeing as how having eight children must not be stressful to a marriage whatsoever. And the fact that they're all the same age must make it even easier on you two. I'm sure potty training a gaggle of toddlers was super fun! Oh, and the fact that you act like an uber-bitch 99% of the time must give ol' Johnny Boy an instant erection.

Don't get me wrong, I would probably have permanent PMS, too, if I was in your position. But why don't you try dialing down the whole "emasculating ball & chain thing" and see how that goes. Maybe take a day off from screaming orders at him every once in a while, 'cause I don't know too many men in the market for a single mom with eight kids, if you know what I mean.

Just trying to be helpful,
Brooke Amanda

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

An Open Letter to

An Open Letter to


You were set up 4 years ago by this Sean Williams guy and there's been nothing done with you, save for a "test" post. Why do you exist? Just to taunt us? Since we didn't secure your domain name first? Not only that but your owner, Mr. Williams, also had to take up, too? And do nothing with it either?

What gives?




"Eric Simpson" at (one entry in 2001)
"Jason" at (not updated since 2002)

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

An open letter to Heather

Dear Heather,

Thanks for getting back to me, and I really appreciate your honesty. In fact, I probably shouldn't be typing this, but your tart frankness kinda turns me on. Kinda riles me up. Kinda gets me hot and bothered. I could go on. So, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me. I got a full-body latex suit and a riding crop already oiled up and waiting to go.

Rod Stewart

Monday, May 4, 2009

An Open Letter to Mario

Dear Mario,

Thank you! But our princess is in another castle.


An Open Letter to Rod Stewart

An Open Letter to Rod Stewart

Dear Mr. Stewart:

No, I do not want your body, nor do I think you are sexy. I’m just letting you know.

Thanks for your inquiry,


Saturday, May 2, 2009

An Open Letter To Funky Facts

Dear Funky Facts,

Stop going around giving me and my blogging posse frownie faces on Since you're only 17 years old, I'll be nice because MAYBE you don't realize how this whole blogging thing works. First of all, if you want people to read your blog (and in case you didn't know, 99% of people who read blogs are your fellow bloggers) you need to create a postive relationship with us. Which means, you DO NOT give frownie faces to blog posts that are actually very funny. If you don't like them, just don't do's that simple. But don't be a douche and give a frownie face because that actually deducts point from a post. This is your me, you don't want me to sic my blogging bitch Queenie on you. I'm pretty sure she makes grown men cry and would make you shit yourself. So...just stop what you're doing and we'll be cool, kepeesh?

Don't Be A Dick,
Brooke Amanda

Friday, May 1, 2009

An Open Letter To Spring

Dear Spring,

Where the hell are you?! Maybe you've graced other parts of the country with your presence, but not Illinois. It's the end of April and I still have my electric blanket on my bed. How messed up is that? You teased all of us in March with a few nice days and even the beginning of the month was nice. I moved all my plants out to my balcony. Well, guess what? THEY'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD NOW!
I know what you're up to, Spring. You did this to us last year, too. You got lazy, probably started drinking again and you forgot to do your job. One day it was winter and the next it was 90 degrees. Yeah, that's right, we went straight into summer. I swear on all the is holy & pure that you better get your godamn act together and not pull this shit twice in a row. I want sunny, mid-70's weather pronto. I am still WAY to pale to rock out shorts yet.

Don't Make Me Hurt You,
Brooke Amanda

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

An Open Letter to Nickelback

An Open Letter to Nickelback

Dear Nickelback:

Please do us all a favor and stopping making what doesn't even bear a passing resemblance to music. No, seriously.

With greatest appreciation,

Everyone in the World

NOTE: Funny story... I had this post in my drafts and just hadn't posted it yet when I came across another blogger's Open Letter to Nickelback! Check out Shawn's awesome version at The Shark Tank.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

An Open Letter to Dust

An Open Letter to Dust

Dear Dust:

Where the heck do you come from? Seriously. What's your deal?

Thanks in advance for any information you might be able to provide,


Thursday, April 23, 2009

An Open Letter to LOST

An Open Letter to LOST

Dear Favoritest Show Ever:

It really isn't necessary for you to do a recap show every 3 weeks. Please air more actual episodes. Thanks in advance.

All my love,


Wednesday, April 22, 2009

An Open Letter to Everyone I Know

An Open Letter to Everyone I Know

Dear Jerks:

As you can see from the email reprinted below, I’m gonna be rich, bee-yotches! I’ve already quit my job and I’m moving to Fiji! Catch all you suckas on the flip-flop!

In closing I would like to say... I am WAY too good for you. I really do mean that, from the bottom of my heart.

Love always,




Sent: Wed 5:20 AM

Dear Friend,

I am using this opportunity to thank you for your great effort to our unfinished transfer of fund into your account due to one reason or the other best known to you. But I want to inform you that I have successfully transferred the Cheque out of the company to someone else who was capable of assisting me in this great venture.

Due to your effort, sincerity, courage and trustworthiness you showed at the course of the transaction I want to compensate you and show my gratitude to you with the sum of $843,000,00 ( EIGHT HUNDRED AND FORTY THREE THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS).

I have authorized the finance house where I deposited my money to issue you international certified bank draft cash able at your bank. I do know you might be seeing the compensation as to small compared to the total sum pursued for but you just have to bear with it for the German doctor whom assisted in the fund transfer made a lot of expenses.

Meanwhile be inform that cost of shipment and the insurance coverage of certified cashier check are at your expenses which we have bargain with the courier company to make less expensive for you to be able to get your parcel without any form of delay.

You are to contact the financial controller of FIRST FINANCIAL BANK PLC via email or via phone which is below.


TELEPHONE NUMBER: +234-70-23192278

At the moment, I am very busy here because of the investment projects which myself and my new partner are having at hand.
Please I will like you to accept this token with good faith as this is from the bottom of my heart.

Contact Mr ADETUNJI PETERS now .
Thanks and God bless you and your family.

Best Regards

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

An Open Letter To Aunt Flo

Dear Aunt Flo,

Bitch, where the hell have you been the last two weeks?! I'm just going along, thinking everything is fine and dandy, expecting you any minute and then...nothing. I start to freak out, think maybe my "pull out and pray" method of birth control is perhaps not the most effective for a single girl to be using. You even made me go so far as to look up "early signs of pregnancy" on Web MD! Aunt Flo, you had me thinking about my future, picking out cribs online, thinking about how I would have to turn my guest room into a nursery. You made me have the "awkward talk" with the prospective baby daddy about a possible bun in the oven.

And, FINALLY, you show up all late and totally unapologetic. You also brought with you an uninvited guest, PMS. She's a real bitch. She makes me want to cry and rip someone's face off all at the same time. I swear to God, Aunt Flo, the next time you put me through something like this, we're finished. I'm scheduling a hysterectomy and getting all my lady parts removed so you can't fuck with me anymore. Either that, or I better be preggers cause if I'm going through all that stress, I'm getting a cute baby out of it. Oh, and you better stop by the store cause I'm all out of tampons.

Feeling crampy,
Brooke Amanda

Sunday, April 19, 2009

An Open Letter to Inspector No. 84

An Open Letter to Inspector No. 84

Dear Inspector No. 84:

I found your little inspection sticker on my underpants. I just wanted to say, thank you for inspecting my underpants. That was really nice of you. Also, I was just curious… do you have a badge or a license or something? Because I bet you could get a lot of girls that way. Telling them you’re an Official Underpants Inspector. Girls love classy stuff like that.

Thanks again,


Thursday, April 9, 2009

An Open Letter to the Moth That Got Into My Closet

An Open Letter to the Moth That Got Into My Closet and Chewed Itty-Bitty Holes into My Favorite Pair of Pants

Dear Moth:

Not cool, dude. Not. Cool.

Yours truly,

Owner of Pants

P.S. What other things do you hate? Cuz I’m certainly not using those stinky moth balls to get rid of you so you can forget that. I refuse to let my clothes smell like those of an octogenarian. Shall I toss a Nickelback CD in there at you? Just kidding. I would never buy a Nickelback CD.

An Open Letter To Miley Cyrus

Dear Miley,

Why the fuck are you EVERYWHERE? How do I even know who you are? I thought I was done with your hillbilly family after your dad's incredibly annoying "Achy Breaky Heart" finally faded away. But no, he had an ace in his pocket (or should I say his sperm) when you were born. I first remember hearing about you because my nephew had a crush on your ass a few years ago. That's when you were better known as "Hannah Montana" and hadn't yet blossomed into the full-blown whore you are now.

At first, I thought, "What a cute kid. She's funny and she can sing, too." Then, almost overnight, you turned into this big-lipped 16 year old slut who's fucking a 20 year old. Hmm, do you still wear your purity ring? I'm thinking that's a big "hell no" since the last pics I saw of you were not so pure. You had on a wet, white t-shirt with a bikini top underneath and you were helping your fuck buddy "wash" his car. I'm just curious, aren't you a millionare? Couldn't you PAY someone to wash the damn car? Or did you just want to get some wet t-shirt pics into all the tabloids?

I can't wait until five years from now when you will either be a complete washed up has been ala your daddy or just another strung out drug addicted child star ala Lindsey Lohan. You better get knocked up soon so you too can have a dynamic kid just like yourself and ride their coat tails when you're forty... and the tale of the Cyrus family saga continues.

P.S.- I hope you and your loser best friend read this and then make fun of it on your super cool YouTube broadcasts. They are not dumb, lame, or mindnumbing to watch whatsoever.

Hope this makes you cry,
Brooke Amanda

Saturday, April 4, 2009

An Open Letter To Dunkin' Donuts

Dear Dunkin' Donuts,

First off, let me congratulate you on making a coffee that is so highly addictive, I would be scared to drink it while pregnant for fear my children will be low birth weight and go through withdrawls. But the real reason I'm writing this letter is to nominate your employee, Gene, for "Employee of The Month." Gene works the drive-thru window at my local Dunkin' Donuts and can recognize my voice instantly. That means either he has a really good ear, or I go to your establishment way too fucking much.
Our exchange every morning goes something like this:
Gene: "Welcome to Dunkin' Donuts. May I take your order?"
Me: "Yes, I'd like a large coffee with cream and sugar, please."
Gene: "And a ham, egg, and cheese on an English muffin?"
Me: "Yes, please." I don't have the heart to special order it because I haven't eaten pork since I was 14. I just don't want to ruin our banter. I throw the ham away when I get to work. Plus, I kind of like the hammy flavor it leaves.
Gene: "Okay Brooke. See you at the window."
It's like he knows my soul! What a phenomenal guy! On a side note, I have no idea what ethnicity Gene is. Maybe Filipino? He has a definite accent and an interesting look that I just can't place. And I highly doubt Gene is his real name. I'm sure he had to Americanize it for "the man" and I think that shows a great team spirit as well. He could be the manager someday! Gene is a definite keeper and I would promote him through the Dunkin' Donuts ranks as quickly as possible. Maybe he could even star in your next commercial. Just a thought.

Keep making your crack coffee,
Brooke Amanda

Friday, March 27, 2009

An Open Letter To The 7-11 Manager Who Added Me To The "Banned for Life" List

Dear 7-11 Manager,

You should really post a sign reading, "Do not drink directly from the nozzle" on your Slurpee machine if that is your store policy.



Thursday, March 26, 2009

An Open Letter To Girl Scout Cookies

Dear Girl Scout Cookies,

Why are you so goddamn delicious? I think you are made with equal parts crack, puppies, and baby smell because all those things are awesome AND highly addictive. And I hate you for that. Just a handful of your scrumptiousness has more calories than a Thanksgiving meal with all the trimmings. How is that even possible? I know that every spring, you send out your little army of green sashed bitches to tug at my heart-strings and make me buy more boxes than a single girl could ever need. Oh, just freeze us and save us for later you say. NO! I want to eat you box by box in some Romanesque orgy fashion. I want to gorge on you until I am sick and ready to puke. Having a box in my house that hasn't been eaten yet is like a sex addict having a porn in the DVD player and trying not to watch it. IT CAN'T BE DONE!
I also have a bone to pick with you reguarding your recent name changes. Why are Samoa's now called Carmel De-Lites and Tag-A-Longs now called Peanut Butter Patties? I liked the old names. And what happened to the original Girl Scout Shortbread Cookie that was shaped like a Girl Scout's head? Did some Debbie Downer decide it was too morbid to eat a Girl Scout's head? I never liked them anyway, but it's still the principle of the matter. I like tradition. You show a box of them on your website, but they were nowhere to be found on the order form I filled out. Maybe you should look into that and consider bringing all the old stuff back. Don't worry, you could call your cookies "Nut Sack Sweat" and I would still eat them. I love you. I'll be seeing you next spring.

A former Brownie,

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

An Open Letter to the White Gumball

An Open Letter to the White Gumball That Came Out of the Machine

Dear White Gumball:

I didn’t want you. I really wanted the red one. Perhaps even pink or red. Heck, I'd even take orange over you, White Gumball. Please remember this next time so that we can avoid any awkwardness.

Many thanks,


P.S. Are you by chance related to Greg and Bryant?

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

An Open Letter To The nake In My Backyard

Dear nake,

I have een you in the yard, lithering through the bu he and hi ing at me when I get too clo e. It' time for you to leave, plea e.



CC: Dell Computer , INC.

Dear Dell,

A certain letter on my keyboard no longer work . Plea e end replacement.

Thank ,


Thursday, March 19, 2009

An Open Letter to My Eyebrows

An Open Letter to My Eyebrows

Dear Eyebrows:

Why is it that every time I pluck you, you just insist on coming back? I would think that you would take the hint eventually. I guess not, though. So, let me be blunt. You aren’t wanted here.

Thanks in advance,


An Open Letter To That Guy Trying To Break Down My Front Door With An Ax

Dear Ax Guy,

You know it's open, right?


Saturday, March 14, 2009

An Open Letter to the Squirrels Living in My Attic

An Open Letter to the Squirrels Living in My Attic

Dear Squirrels:

Seriously? It's been, like, 3 years and you're still up there? You're really acting like buttholes. Please go away. I hate you.

Warmest regards,


P.S. You're annoying the crap out of my dog.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

An Open Letter To The Lone Onion Ring In My Box of Burger King Fries

Dear Onion Ring,

Why are you here? Are you a stowaway? A promotional tactic? A bonus? Please respond.


Monday, March 9, 2009

An Open Letter to the Skanky Guy

An Open Letter to the Skanky Guy

Dear Skanky Guy Who Pulled up Next to Me at a Red Light the Other Day and Said, “What Kind of Car is That?” to Which I Replied, “A Smart Car,” and Then You Asked, “Do You Plug it in?” and I Answered, “No, I Wind it up With a Gigantic Key,” While Pantomiming the Winding of a Gigantic Invisible Key, and You Were All, “Really?” and I Was Like, “No.” And Then You Asked, "Can I Drive It?" and to Your Great Surprise I Was Like, "No!" And Then When You Saw Snuggles in the Passenger Seat, You Queried, “Is That a Pit?” and When I Answered, “Yes,” You Said, “Oh. That’s Tight.” And Then You Were Like, “Are You Single?” and I Was Like, “No.” and You Were All, “Oh. Okay. Have a Nice Evening, Then”:

Don’t. Don’t do that.



Wednesday, March 4, 2009

An Open Letter To My Eye Doctor

Dear Dr. O'Brien,

I couldn't really tell the difference between 1 and 2. I just lied and said I could to make the whole thing go away.


Friday, February 27, 2009

An Open Letter to the Disposable Razor That Just Cut My Face To Ribbons

Dear Bic Comfort 3,

Thanks for that. No really. I've never passed out from blood loss before.

Yours truly,


An Open Letter to That Box of Cheez-Its I Just Finished

Dear Cheez-Its Box,

I was troubled to see this printed on the inside: Sorry, This Box is Not a Winner. Buck up, Cheez-Its box. I found your contents delicious.

Your Truly,