Pickles & Dimes

Dear unknown person I curse daily,

My work number is not a fax. It is not one today and it was not one the previous 317 times. Call whomever you’re trying to reach and ask them for the correct fax number, dammit.

Dear generic Advil I found in the kitchen drawer at work,

Your stern message about not taking more than 6 pills in 24 hours? HAAAAAA. (That is the sound of my uterus laughing at you.)

Dear work computer,

That whole “greeting me with a blank screen and none of my documents when I logged on”? Did I look like I thought that was amusing? DID I???

Dear hair,

I know you’re acting stupid so that I’ll cut you, but I’m not falling for it. Yet. We’ll talk again later.

Dear closet and dresser,

You look empty now that I’ve donated some of your occupants. I’ll try to remedy that soon. And no more Grandma sweaters, I promise!

Dear internal body temperature,

KICK IT UP A NOTCH.

Dear bathtub,

You. Me. Tonight (or this weekend if madcap games of gin rummy interfere). Wear something hot, bubbly and scented like fruit.

Dear Static Electricity,

I do not understand what I have done to offend you. I cannot recall slapping your face with a leather glove, or disparaging your Mother, or mocking the size of your booty, so your seemingly unnecessary rage against me is frightening. The extra-voltage jolt from the running water in the bathroom seemed especially uncalled for. Perhaps we can arrange a truce?

Sincerely,

Me

P.S. When do you think I can expect to regain the feeling in my right hand?

Dear Sonic® and Dave & Buster’s®,

I see advertisements for your places of business all the time. You appear to both be eating establishments. I wish to dine with you. I especially would like to take advantage of Sonic’s Vanilla Slush®. Or perhaps the tempting Sonic® Bacon Cheeseburger. No, no – a Coney! With bacon, chili and cheese! YES! That is what I will order – for here, please. I want to experience the dine-in atmosphere.

And you, Dave & Buster’s, I would enjoy very much the opportunity to indulge in some noshing and imbibing and game-playing. You have billiards. And shuffleboard!!! Do you know how awesome it would be to play shuffleboard while eating your Jack Daniels® BBQ ribs?

But I cannot do so. Do you know why?

Because neither of you are ANYWHERE NEAR MY FREAKING GEOGRAPHIC LOCATION.

Why do you advertise on my local channels? Do you think I am going to drive 223 miles to Sonic or 398 miles to Dave & Buster’s, spending $3.09 per gallon for the sole purpose of visiting your establishments and peeing in your toilets?

No, I am not.

I am going to dine at Buffalo Wild Wings® instead. They have 18 locations in Minnesota alone.

Jerks.

Sincerely,
Me

Dear Brad Johnson,

I love you. You rock and I know this is mean-spirited, but I hope Daunte Culpepper doesn’t finish his knee rehab in time for 2006. I hope you understand that even though I think you’re awesome, I still cannot break my rule of putting Vikings players on my fantasy team. Due to past performances, I cannot afford to get burned. I know you understand.

- From The Girl Who Owns 3 of Your Football Jerseys and a Boatload of Your Football Cards, But is Totally Not Obsessed With You

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Dear Michael Vick of the Atlanta Falcons,

A guy who runs for more yardage than passing for it is nothing more than a glorified running back, NOT a quarterback. When your first instinct is to immediately take off running, it means you haven’t matured enough to the point to find a secondary receiver when your first option is covered. When you pass for 300+ yards in two consecutive games, maybe then I will stop bitching about you and your lack of passing ability. Also, try getting your passer rating position above #30 before you start talking trash.

Sincerely,
Someone Who is Sick of Hearing all of Your Unearned Hype, Dammit

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Dear Mark Brunell of the Washington Redskins,

Oh, I’m sorry. I thought that after having your piss-poor 65-yard throwing performance last week, that maybe, if it wasn’t too much trouble, you might be able to do better for me this week. I didn’t realize that after weeks of being a great player, you’re now going to suck. My mistake.

Signed,
The Person Who is Now in Second Place in her Fantasy Football League and Not Happy About it

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Dear Mike Tice,

I have two words for you: flea flicker. This play is the best play in the world, and yet you steadfastly refuse to implement it. Come ON – it’s even fun to say! FLEA FLICKER. If you do not do this on Sunday, I will be forced to write you a scathing letter. With bad words. C’mon, it’s easy: Johnson to Bennett back to Johnson to Williamson. I’m telling you – it’s GOLD!

- Armchair Coach Wannabe