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.

Thanks,

Shawn

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,
Shopgirl101

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,

Heather

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

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.

incerely,

hawn

CC: Dell Computer , INC.

Dear Dell,

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

Thank ,

hawn

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,

Heather

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?

Sincerely,
Shawn

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,

Me

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

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.

Thanks,
Shawn

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.

Sincerely,

Me

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.


Sincerely,
Shawn