Tag Archive for 'letters'

Page 3 of 3

Quit Your Bitchin’

Published on January 5, 2008 in Humor and Relationships. 6 Comments Tags: .

Dear Roommate and other men on the planet:

You should know by now when a woman says, “I’ll only be in Wal-mart a few minutes” that it means an hour or longer. By the time a male reaches six years old he should have a firm understanding of the female’s thought process once she steps into Wal-mart. If you are over the age of six you should know this so why must you bitch and moan when we spend longer than “just a few minutes” in Wally World?” And must you follow so closely behind us huffing and puffing? It doesn’t make us go faster. As a matter of fact some of the more passive aggressive types might take even longer. I’m not saying I would do that. I’m just saying some might.

Mr. Roommate, you’re 63 years old juggling three senior citizen girlfriends. Despite looking like Barney Fife you’re quite the womanizer which means you spend countless amounts of time at dinner, movies and theatrical productions. You run errands, put together book shelves and other so-called do it yourself projects. You seem to understand or at least yield to the complexities of women without complaint. But Continue reading ‘Quit Your Bitchin’’

Dear Beauty and others involved in the conspiracy

Published on November 27, 2007 in Art, For the Record, Humor and Relationships. 8 Comments Tags: , .

Beckoning not BECONNING

HOW COULD YOU? How could you let the title of an art piece show up on several web sites misspelled? Not only did the painting appear on this blog, on the dot com and on the wordpress site but it also showed up misspelled on Flickr and on every feed associated w/ Flickr and every feed associated w/ WordPress. How could you?

You , my friends who can spell let this happen. It’s not my fault. I accept no responsibility for that mistake, none at all. I’m supposed to have people, nay friends watching my misspelling back but no, nope you let me publish it that way and let it stay up there for days….days I say days! Then you rubbed my lack of spelling skills in by telling me you talked to Sissyface about it. Should you tell me? Hell yes you should tell me. When it comes to art TELL ME. Don’t leave me in the misspelled dark. No, there is no new slang expressing called beconning. That word is BECKONING. For the love of all that is artistic and holy someone could have told me.

Don’t think that JAGA or Kathryn (a school teacher okay…a.school.teacher) are off the hook for letting this thing go on for days. DAYS. Y’all conspired didn’t you? It’s one huge conspiracy against innocent, quiet, soft spoken Austin who never, ever rocks the boat and who is always soooo kind to others…sickeningly sweet as a matter of fact….so sweet she could give you diabetes, toss you into a diabetic coma of sorts she’s so sweet. I can’t go on….oh but I must. Where will the strength come from when I’m out here unsupported? Did I spell that right? Un-sup-port-ed.

Maybe a clue about my spelling ability came in when I did a test of the education level required to read my blog. Now how sad is this?

Check your reading level here.

I haven’t decided if this is a good or bad thing. Elementary school? Does this mean any level of education can understand my blog? Am I that versatile OR does it mean my inability to spell decreased my blogging status?

The Cheesemeister got Post grad College. Puts me to shame it does, puts.me.to.shame.

I Regret To Inform You

Published on November 6, 2007 in Dissociative Identity Disorder, For the Record and Humor. 3 Comments Tags: .

Dear Morton’s Pride,

As you know 6PM is about to roll around and the table isn’t set. You might wonder why there’s no fresh food or hot drinks dished up nicely. A series of events unfolded that prevents our nightly special dinner together. Here’s what happened: I set out to do a bit of cleaning. I made a few phone calls and yacked with our roommate about his dead friends then I went out and buried Misty the Mantid. Barney said a few words, we covered her and came back to finish a few things. I then went back went outside and chopped some wood. Granted it only took a few swipes with the ax before I was out of breath but I did chop wood. I’ve been a smoker for years, what do you want? I went about my daily chores all while looking forward to a perfectly prepared boxed version of Jambalaya. Zatarans doesn’t do that bad of a job ya know? I could taste it. Continue reading ‘I Regret To Inform You’

How To Annoy Someone Properly

Published on October 5, 2007 in For the Record, Humor and Stupid People. 2 Comments Tags: .
  1. Show up extra early to pick them up then sit outside their house and call them every 10 minutes.
  2. Once inside the vehicle pop your gum loudly enough to break the sound barrier. Dare them to say anything.
  3. Contact the people at the drop off point to let them know you’ve rubbed your party’s nerves raw and you’ll soon pass her on to them to do the same.

I believe my bus driver had these few rules in mind when she showed up at my house at 8am when she wasn’t supposed to be here until 9:45AM. I believe she made that call too.

Dear Gum Poppers:

This comes as a shock to you, I know, but whomever told you gum popping is anything less than a legitimate cause to kill you lied. Gum popping isn’t a skill. Learning to pop your gum at super high frequencies should not find itself on your list of goals. If it is you must rethink your purpose in life. If you’re a gum popper you should make sure you’re not annoying in other ways too as this could lead to violence from which you may never fully recover. As I understand it, several states are now offering a get out of jail free card for people that rid the streets of gum poppers. For your own safety you must cease and desist gum popping.

I consider gum poppers at the same level as people that jog in 30 below weather in super tight shorts. Blizzard joggers should cease and desist for the same reasons.

Sincerely,

Gum popper hater

Why is it that gum poppers usually have blueberry or watermelon flavored gum? So in addition to the popping you can smell artificially flavored Hubba Bubba. It’s not right. In fact, it’s 10 shades of wrong or as the 80’s rocker said, “That was sautéed in wrong sauce.” Also wrong on every level was the check in at the caseworker’s office.

Little did I know cameras in government buildings aren’t allowed. In fact, they’re listed on the same sign as weapons that won’t be returned if you bring it in the building. Evidently they fear someone will photograph them not working and send it to the papers or something. I told them they couldn’t have my cam. I’d leave and reschedule. They let me check it in then go up to see my caseworker. I asked if they wanted the lotion I was carrying too. Lord knows I wouldn’t want to moisturize someone to death, I said. They thought it was funny. Once inside with the caseworker there was no stress and no fuss. In fact, she was nice…too nice. I kept looking over my shoulder for fear it was a set up. Would a second worker turn the cubicle corner and attack me with my own camera? I was scared. My heart races as I slowly reached into my purse and popped the cap of my lotion. I was ready for a fight.

“Cause of death: blunt force moisturizing to the frontal lobe.” “It was a horrible death but man she’s supple.” “If you have to go, you might as well go supple.”

Give me a break people, it’s lotion….or is it? (dun, dun, dun, dunnnn)

Austin

You’re Not The Girl For Me

Published on May 10, 2007 in For the Record, Humor and Relationships. 4 Comments Tags: .

Really, it’s not that you’re big enough to toss me across the room in one of your fits of rage. It has nothing to do with the tattoos or the fact that you shave daily. It’s just that we were not meant for each other. It’s not you, it’s me. I can’t commit.

The difficulty I’m having at the moment is telling an interest that I’m not interested while preserving my physical safety. But every reason I’ve come up with doesn’t roll off my tongue the way I wish it to.

No. I can’t afford fees for the eventual restraining orders. No, I can’t go out with you. I’m not happy with long distance relationships. When you go to back to prison I’d be so lonely. No, really, I like all three of your hoods in the making. They’re adorable little criminals really they are. Continue reading ‘You’re Not The Girl For Me’

Dear Quarterback #18

Published on February 6, 2007 in For the Record and Humor. 3 Comments Tags: .

jan 6th, 2007 1AM EST

Dear Quarterback #18,

As pitiful as it sounds I’m sitting here in Indy and didn’t watch the Colts win the bowl. How sad is that? The truth be told, I couldn’t care less about football. I try oh how I try but my heart is with golf and tennis not football. Just to fake a show of support for your team I chased the butcher at Krogers around the store for wearing a Bears hat on your Blue Day. Good thing I know the guy or it would have been very odd…well even more odd to see me chasing him with a ham in my hand. The butcher came so close to being assaulted with a ham bone all in the name of support for a team I couldn’t care less about. Are you happy now? Am I Hoosier enough for you now? I’ve been here 8 years and I still don’t like basketball. From what I hear basketball was born here. I’ll never be a true Hoosier at this rate.

I’m sorry Manning but I just don’t care. I’m sorry Bob Sanders I just don’t care about you or your nickname The Assassin. As cute as you are, and yes you are cute…my gracious it should be illegal how cute you are. You’re gonna hurt somebody being that cute…You need a license to carry a face like that. You and Shamar Moore need some sort of permit…but I digress. Despite your looks and the world championship nothing in my world has changed. Nothing has changed just because you can now add bling to your other bling. But if it makes you guys feel better there is now a butcher who will watch over his shoulder every time he goes to work because your fake fan put the fear of God in him… well the fear of pork anyway.

Sincerely your fake fan,
Austin

GIVE ME GOLF OR GIVE ME DEATH

Dear Thieves

Published on April 25, 2006 in For the Record and Humor. 0 Comments Tags: .

As far as the best states to live in for tax relief we’ve ranked #12. For the best cities to live in with tax relief we ranked #14.

BRING MY LAWN MOWER BACK! Well forget this ever happened.I’m not sure what our crime rate is but it looks like it just went up. About 4am yesterday morning some BASTARDS stole our lawn mower!!! Damn you!!! I wish constipation on you all! You will try to poo but it won’t happen. You’ll strain, you’ll grunt, groan and bite your lip but they’ll sit there like stones in the bottom of a pond. I wish bad luck to rain down on you thieves like stupidity rains down on George Bush. I wish you ill will in every form until you bring my damn lawn mower back.

The pain you will suffer, the emotional distress, the clogged up, plugged up tight bowels, your hair will fall out; your teeth will break until you bring me my lawn mower back. The hospital bills will mount and they will not know what to do for you. The symptoms will be high but the cures unknown until you bring me my damn lawn mower back.

It is sad that I have to resort to spells and voodoo dances to make you people understand that you must, you so very must bring me my damn lawn mower back!!

Sincerely,

Your upright, unclogged citizen Aussie