An Open Letter to My Dogs

An Open Letter to My Dogs

Dear Snuggles and Clover:

Good gravy, what in the world did you two eat? Are you even aware that your farts can penetrate Kevlar? The next time I need to sandblast something I'll just bottle some of your abominable flatulence. You have a permanent fog hovering around you like Pigpen from Peanuts. I no longer have any nose hair. Your farts can peel varnish and dissolve acid. True story, I once saw a pit bull fart make Chuck Norris cry. The smell is so bad my eyes are watering and my nose is running. And by "my nose is running" I mean, like, my nose literally jumped off my face and ran away in fear and revulsion. It went into the Witness Protection Program and now I'll never find it. The fallout is truly heinous. The blast radius is the width of a city block. I now have a new theory for what killed off the dinosaurs.

With nothing but love for you (but not your gas),

Heather

Our bad.

An Open Letter To My Upstairs Neighbors

Dear Neighbors,

What's it like owning an elephant? I had no idea they did so much jumping!

Curious,
Shawn

An Open Letter to the State of Arizona

An Open Letter to the State of Arizona

Dear Arizona:


What the crap? Why are you exempt from Daylight Saving Time? That is so unfair, State of Arizona. I, for one, am not a happy camper. This business of springing forward, falling back, hopping sideways, and skipping in circles is getting a little frigging old. And I will be hating my alarm clock with that little bit of extra fervor come Sunday. But you, Arizona? You’ll be happy as a clam, secure in the knowledge that 8 AM is still 8 AM and all is right with the world. Except for the part of the world that is springing forward! Lame!


Totally jealous of you,


Heather
Oklahoma, USA


cc: Hawaii

An Open Letter to My Alarm Clock

An Open Letter to My Alarm Clock


Dear Alarm Clock:


I hate you.

That is all.


Sincerely,

Me

Open Letter to Zen Office Guy

Open Letter to Zen Office Guy


Dear Zen Office Guy,

While your office may provide you with a tranquil place to retreat to while at work, it is messing me all up. Consider someone other than yourself dude. Im sure that your (not one but TWO) trickling, gurgling, fountains relax you. Thats wonderful, really it is. The problem is that when you are not in your office (which is a great deal of the time) you leave your door open and the fountains on, which means when I walk by your office, I always feel like I have to pee. So, thanks for that.

Im sure that keeping your over head lights in you office off makes you feel at one with whatever,and that the soft lamp glow gives you the ambiance you desire. However, Im already tired when I come to work, and as the day progresses, I get more sleepy, so your office darkness is torture. AND that soft asian music? It doesnt help either. It makes me want some Chicken Sub Gum and hot tea BEFORE I nap.

Constantly peeing, wanting chinese food, and desiring a nap are not condusive to a productive work day. Its no wonder that you get NOTHING done, and that people are always complaining about your lack of progress.....you are TOO RELAXED.

Do no be surprised if after a hard day (my hard day, not yours), you find me in the middle of your office floor in the lotus position (or whatever the meditation position is called)....you kind of asked for it.

Sincerly,
the Classic Rock Blaring Office Girl.

(by Obladi Oblada)

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,

Heather

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

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 again...am I right?

No pity for you,

Nan

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

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

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, er...um... 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,

Nan

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.

Signed,

Obladi Oblada

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,

Heather

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.

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,

Heather

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,

Heather




------------------------------------------------------------



From: DR MOSES AJIBADE (drmoses.ajibade@yahoo.com)

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.

CONTACT Mr ADETUNJI PETERS WITH YOUR PRESENT INFORMATIONS IF DIFFRENT FROM THE OTHER SO HE CAN ATTEND TO YOU ASAP.
BELOW ARE HIS CONTACT INFO.

TELEPHONE NUMBER: +234-70-23192278
EMAIL:adetunjipeters@gmail.com

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
DR MOSES AJIBADE

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

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 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 the Elks Lodge

An Open Letter to the Elks Lodge

Dear Elks Lodge that Sits Behind My House and Insists on Renting Out the Facility to Drunk Idiots Who Love to Torture Me By Throwing Loud Parties With Terrible DJ Music and Lest We Forget the Live Band Outdoor Parking Lot Concerts that Go Past Midnight and Cause the Windows in My House to Literally Rattle Whilst I Try to Get My Beauty Sleep, Forcing Me to Call the Cops Every Single Saturday Night:

Stooooooooooooooooooooooop. Stop it.

Warmest regards,

Irritated Neighbor