Letters – Vols. 5, 6, 7 and 8

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

Letters – Vol. 4

Dear Bausch & Lomb,

I am writing to you concerning your product, the SofLens®. A year ago, my optometrist casually changed my prescription to this brand, and myself, not being the overly observant type, merely noticed a difference in the box packaging and thought, “Huh.”

However, it did not take even this non-astute person long to realize that there is a serious flaw in the design of your product. When one removes the contact from one’s cornea, it immediately welds itself into a tiny, mangled ball. A ball that can be likened to a wad of congealed chewing gum – not bubble gum, but the nasty Wrigley® stuff that sticks to you when attempting to frantically free your fingers from it.

So what you end up with is no longer a mild-mannered, blue-tinted concave-shaped contact, but rather, a crumpled mass of extremely fragile material. To attempt to relinquish the death-grip the contact has on itself, one has to use their fingernails in a feeble attempt to re-open the contact. As you may or may not guess, this results in a beautifully jagged tear straight down the middle of the product. I can solely attribute my 5:1 ratio for contact usage per eye (left vs. right) in this manner. Why this product defect affects only the left contact, I cannot say.

Your Web site touts the following false statements benefits:
* Exceptional vision
* All day comfort
* Easy handling
* Easy adaption

While I disagree with all four selling points, the one I take the most exception to is the “easy handling” statement. If by “easy handling” you mean having to pry the contact apart as if it is an alien organism hellbent on suctioning itself into a wad and sucking my retina out of my eyeball, then yes, that statement is correct. If you mean “easy handling” in the fact that one has longer than .008 seconds to place the contact into a proper saline-filled receptacle before it glues itself shut, then sadly, your assertion is grossly misleading.

I hope your company will spend a few more R&D dollars in the future to remedy this defect. As for myself, I will be saving my money to get the LASIK® procedure.

Letters – Vol. 3

An Open Letter To The Woman In Front Of Me Today At Wendy’s

Hey Lady,

When you go to an eating establishment during the lunch hour and proceed to order food for 27 of your coworkers, and then pay with a credit card, don’t be incredulous when the cashier does not have a pen handy. The correct thing to do is *not* hound the poor 16-year-old guy for 5 minutes before scrounging around in your suitcase-sized purse. And, just so you know, I didn’t hand you a pen to be *nice.* I did it so you would get the hell out of my way so I could order my food.

P.S. I hope your order was all mixed up.

P.P.S. I have pms.


Letters – Vol. 2

Dear People I Work With:

When I go to the trouble of creating PowerPoint templates that require you to only do the minimal amount of work; namely, entering in the client name and date and resaving the file under a new name, do not ask me to change two words and print out your document for you. It’s a simple task you should be able to manage. But I guess this is better than trusting you to do it yourselves and finding out you used 32 different fonts for a 17-slide presentation. Also, a little hint: when you use the phrase from a 20-year-old movie that has a giant walking marshmallow in it as your tagline on presentations, I am legally entitled to smite you.


Letters – Vol. 1

Dear Mr. Wuss in the Old Pickup,

While I can understand your trepidation regarding travel, considering the huge load of snow that was dropped on us in the past few days, I am baffled by your decision to drive only 8 miles per hour. Taking into account the condition of your vehicle and the fact that you must be unable to afford a 99-cent ice scraper to remove even a 2-inch window for seeing the road, I felt pity for you. I can only assume that you are working 7 jobs and have no time to spare on such frivolous things like ice removal. Hence your truckbed full of snow, which conveniently blew out, how lucky for you. My windshield wipers felt otherwise.

Perhaps also you cannot afford good tires and fear slipping off the road, like the numerous cars dotting the plowed landscape. Understandable. I commend you for not wanting to end up facing the wrong way on a giant heap of brown, chunky salt-snow. I am also familiar with the concept of “safety in numbers,” so the fact that you and a buddy were driving in tandem, taking up two lanes and going the exact same speed, made perfect sense. The fact that there wasn’t a car within 54 square miles ahead of you was amusing, yes. The 970 cars behind you may have felt differently, who knows.

All I am asking is that if you and your vehicle cannot go faster than single digits, perhaps you would be better off taking public transportation. Or getting out of the damn passing lane. Your call.


The person who couldn’t help but tailgate, seeing as you were only going 8 mph.