SARGASM

Womynced Words

2011-08-16T12:16:00.001-07:00

Dear Reader,

If you want to know what it feels like to try and save a dying plant, buy a Malm from Ikea.

Dear Fruit Flies,

So you just disappear, huh?

Dear Neighbor,

You may know about the fights we have, but we know about the breaks you take during sex.

Dear Female Gender,

Stop re-introducing yourself to the world, it's un-womanly to be so brash. And comb your goddamn hair.

To The Person Who Takes Pictures Of Food,
You think a Sudanese child is thinking "damn, I can't wait til I have a plate of food so I can take a picture of it."

To The Person Who Takes Pictures Of Food,
More interesting would be a photo of the end result, no?

To The Person Who Takes Pictures Of Food,

Perhaps you suffer from anorexia? Perhaps the picture taking is a ruse that buys you some time before that disgusting act called "eating."

Dear Tow Truck Guy,
A quadriplegic dwarf walks with his head higher than yours.

Dear Doctor Redundant,

"Don't smoke cigarettes, drink plenty of water, wear SPF 50 or higher, never use hands when giving a blow job, exercise." blah blah blah

Dear Barista,

Your title is not annoying, your bandanna is not annoying, your milk heart is not annoying.

Dear Aggressive Egg Donation Facility,

I'm no chicken in a cage, unable to turn around or open my wings to their true span potential. I'm just a girl with some healthy follicles trying to buy a car.

Dear Mom,

From whale watching to that horrible lesbian neighbor that keeps calling the cops on your dogs -Oh, the places we'll go in this conversation!

Dear Mom,

But seriously, that woman's marriage is a total sham.

Dear Landlord,

I apologize for being late on the rent. You see, I've been high on toxic paint fumes ever since I moved in, did I mention I'm a lemur secretariat?

Dear Body,

I suppose eighth grade is as good a time as any to cease expansion.

Dear Former Generation,

Men would turn into women and women would turn into cartoons.

Dear Latinas Everywhere,

You are not the red lipstick you wear.

Dear Dad,

This isn't another one of my lies, or another one of my tricks... You really are '#1 Dad.'

Dear Grandma,

Thank you for sending me a check of twenty five dollars every Christmas for as long as I can remember. The money is nowhere near as important as the consistency.

Dear Grandma,

That $25 is worth $500,000 in adorable (and Vietnamese đồng).

Dear Yelpers,

With the advent of sites like Yelp, I no longer want to hear anyone's opinion on anything. I'm opinioned -out. But, while we're on the subject (trust me I NEVER do this) -I had the WORST service EVER the other day. Look, all I know is that my english muffin took FOR-EVER to come out! I mean I understand that it's BRUNCH, and I UNDERSTAND that it's busy, but it takes like 2 seconds to toast a muffin. I will not be going back unless this place DRASTICALLY improves their SERVICE. Oh AND the PARKING. UGH. ★★

Dear Bookstore Flirt,

I'm not buying this book to impress you. I am buying this book to read it, then to prop up one side of my dining room table.

Dear Moms,

Sneak peek at my parenting book 'What To Expect When Your Expectations Are Dashed'

Chapter 1: How to glorify having two bedrooms!

Chapter 2: How to ensure your child is the last kid standing at YMCA's aftercare program!

To The Grown Men Fighting At The Dog Park,

If what they say is true -that dogs are like their owners- then those doggies most definitely beat their doggie wives.

Dear Women Everywhere,

The Women's Rights Movement -the "movement" now refers to historical women rolling over in their graves every time you utter the word "adorbs."

To The Person Who Says 'Nuff Said!',

At least you're finished.

Dear Elton John,

I guess when you have platinum health insurance, doctors have names such as "Sugar Bear." Further proof that the upper echelon is a fantastical place.

California L'œuf

2011-03-07T19:06:00.000-08:00

Dear All,
The truth of California is hiding under Jason Mraz's fedora.

Dear 1st Stick Shift Ever,
Yeah, I feel so much more bad-ass now- $850/replacement clutch kind of bad-ass.

Dear Strange Sex Subjects,
I am always weary when you have pets.

Dear Acutane,
I will sell that cone baby. If you think I don't have interested buyers, then you don't know about Craigslist.

Dear LA,
I would take back those hours I've wasted trapped on the freeway, even if they came back as hours spent talking to Kirk Douglas.

Dear TV,
More shows on the subject of Hoarding, please. Here are a few ideas I'm pitching, if I may:
"Towel Hoarders: Too clean"
"Sunglasses Hoarders: Blinded"
"Kid Hoarders: Damn, we got way too many kids"
"Hungry Hungry Hoarders: Too hungry to hoard"
"Ikea Hoarders: This shit is mad cheap, son!"

Dear Mom,
No more "enter-to-wins." Your repeated failure is causing us to doubt your ability to provide, subsequently tearing this family apart.

Dear LA and NY,
Car flirting is harder and more skill-based than train flirting. Try the whole "just happened to be spacing out on a hottie" in a car... you will crash and die, and so will they.... so will they.

Dear Sucky Life,
Sorry, no suicide this week, I have two heavily anticipated Netflix coming in the mail.

Dear Sucky Life,
If you put cookies in the freezer, they make a nice frozen treat. It's cool cause... they're normally room temperature, but it's fun to eat them cold you know?

Dear Vegas,
I have no desire to go to Vegas.

Dear Rihanna,
Stop yelling at me.

Dear Rihanna,
It's Rihanna.

Dear Reader,
Time for my annual drive across the country, or as I like to call it "Cinnabon Tour."

Dear Jesus,
First to be apologized to after incarceration AND first to be thanked after an Oscar win. You wear so many hats!

Dear God,
Two-parter:
1. Would I have to commit a crime to find you?
2. If so, how heinous a crime?

Dear Natalie Portman,
You were really great in Black Swan. Your portrayal of a woman giving an Oscar-worthy performance was riveting.

Dear Boyfriend,
When we moved in together I thought we'd have sex day-in and day-out. It feels more like day-out and day-in, and that's just not what I signed up for.

Dear Friend,
I need to throw something away, I looked under the sink but I didn't find a trash can. You keep your trash can out, next to the fridge? The trash can in my house is under the sink, in front of the wine.

Dear Condoms,
Eh.

Wrench Vogue

2010-10-11T16:59:00.001-07:00

Dear The Wire,
Of all the shows on television you were the scariest, and yet, the most true to life.

Dear IHOP[E],
As in: "I hope the shade of lipstick on my coffee mug is a shade I won't mind wearing", "I hope I can decipher what my waitress is saying this time", "I hope I get out of here alive", "I hope they accept both of my coupons so I won't have to pay in two bills."

Dear IHOP[E],
If you're worried about the acronym, the "E" could stand for "Et cetera" as in: International House Of Pancakes Etc... yes it does it makes sense.

Dear Tap Dancers,
You must be so angry at how easy it is to fake-tap dance.

Dear Identity Thief,
I snort when I laugh when I fart, I date down, my mother is balding, I hold my pee for dangerously long periods of time, I wipe from back to front, entering sweepstakes is my current day job, I have upper lip hair, I never learned "loop, swoop, and pull", I suffer from crippling night terrors... I'd think twice.

Dear Girl On Train,
Either you don't know that your foundation is way too dark for your complexion, or you're racist.

Dear Reader,
Rose Byrne is a lesson that teaches us that when we raise the cheekbones on the face, we lower the bar on acting.

Dear Improv Nerd,
You realize, you talking about a scene is like hearing a fat person talk about a meal.

Dear Reader,
Valley of the Dolls (alone) is a movie.
Valley of the Dolls (with a gay man) is a musical with commenTerry.

Dear Childhood Bully,
Stop stealing people's shit and focus on your studies or you'll grow up to be a blogger.

Dear Younger Bully Rosa,
Ever eaten lunch (PB&J) in the break room (bedroom) alone (alone)? Well, that's your future if you don't wise up and play nice. And stop giving mom such a hard time- baldness is hereditary, and it is unfortunate.

Dear Ricky Martin,
You say Menudo and I say Manado. Let's call the whole thing off!

Dear Birth Control,
Thank you, I am having a good breasts day. Consequently, so is my boyfriend.

Dear Reader,
No, I don't have a boyfriend. Boyfriends are for girls who have no self-esteem, or ambition, or eczema...

Dear The Social Network,
Congratulations, I will now stop referring to you as "facebook movie".

Dear Andrew Garfiled,
I'll Never Let your "Wuardo" Go... if you know what I'm implying.

Dear Andrew Garfield,
That was gross. I'm ashamed, I apologize. Let me buy you a drink.

Dear All Who Wish To Go As Blackface For Halloween,
Of course it is easy not to get offended when you aren't black, but even easier not to get offended when you have a sense of humor.

POUND

2010-09-12T08:47:00.000-07:00

Dear Macrobiotic Diet,
I hear you can bore Cancer to death.

Dear 2-Week Sex Spell,
After this I am less Tigress, and more lolcat. I can wear Fwuit of da Woom?

Dear Daddy,
Thanks to genetics, I'll always be your little girl.

Twitter,
I haven't tweeted in a while due to the fear of being rejected, potentially losing followers, and possibly get hurt. #twitterroyale

Twitter,
See, nobody likes my last tweet (nobody likes Fascism).

Dear Haters,
"No air", "Crawl", "I can transform ya" #actualchrisbrownsongsinspiredbyactualchrisbrownlifestories

Dear Dreary-Ass Weather,
The only reason you're here, is to remind me of what a pussy I am for not holding out on getting an a.c unit. Especially since I got one so very late in the game, now with every gust of wind I hear "264.18 bones on electriiiiic".

Dear Jonathan Schwartz,
You are the "American..............

Dear Taco Bell,
What the fuck is with your fluxuating bread situation. I got news for you, it ain't the bread, it's the Grade F meat. The only time I ever get as hungry as I get political is when I smoke weed, and sit in a car at Taco Bell. While stoned in this Parking Lot, I pass the time creating DJ names for myself such as "DJ Parking Lot Politician", "DJ Prinicipal Taco Bellding" , "DJ 7 Player Burrito" (no homo).

Dear John Mayer,
My body is actually a winter wonderland. #memberwhenjohnmayerwasgettingalotofattention?

Dear TMI Victim,
Veronica Mars is to me, what Madonna is to a gay, what Stephen Hawking is to a nerd, what Dolly Parton is to my Dad. #hotblondidols

Dear Ex Boyfriends That I've Taken Clothes From,
You know I only did it for the deal.

Dear Reader,
Whenever I refer to "hand-me-downs" I am referring to clothes procured from past lovers -not my older brother -that is fucking gross.

Dear Cab Driver,
I'm pretty sure it isn't "bright eyed girl" okay?

Dear Reader,
When I was 9 years old I lost a bet to my brother about a certain song lyric and am too embarrassed to tell it to you in the right context.

Dear Reader,
You know how like, you about to take your dog out, and you can't leave the house because the way your jacket is scrunching up in the front makes it look like vagina? Me too!!!!

(See "Dear Jonathan Schwartz")
....Songbook.

Bitter Fatter Wronger

2010-07-18T11:16:00.001-07:00

Dear Facebook,

You know that game where you get a pad of paper and make a list of all the people you've slept with? Thanks for generating one online,very green of you.

Dear Jesse Eisenberg,
2008: The poor man's Michael Cera.
2010: Jesse Eisenberg.
Well done.

Dear Stevie Wonder,
Sure, you can say "this is mine you cant take it" but who's to say they don't tip toe?

Dear Taekwondo,
Maybe I only achieved white belt because Melissa Connors said I was so small I looked like carry-out. In summation, that's a dumb outfit.

Dear Melissa Connors,
Horse stance, your favorite position as a kid.
Latitudinal Horse Stance, your favorite position as a whore.

Dear Word,
No yous can express, I give you my you, you up!, yousmith, yous with friends, The L You.

Dear Lady Friends,
Taking a Plan B pill in anticipation of "uh-oh!" sex is like putting braces on baby teeth.
Remember: always after (unless you'd like to know what baby teeth are all about).

Dear Bacne,
I'll be bacne (like Arnold, ha) ...but seriously I've tried foaming cleansers, dermabrasion...

Dear Fat Person,
When you say: "this weather is perfect!"
I: grab a sweater.

Dear Notorious B.I.G,
Up until now I had no idea you were making a profound statement. I thought "Mo' Problems" was the sequel to "Mo' Money" and I'm disappointed.

Dear Netflix,
I love the movie Searching For a Movie on Netflix but can only seem to find it If I smoke weed before I sign in.

Dear Netflix,
...and of course after I reset my password, because you know I forgot my secret question's answer.

Dear Reader,
How much weed could a Kid Cudi smoke if a Kid Cudi could smoke weed? For answer, refer to album entitled Man on The Moon: The End of Day.

Dear Latina Girls,
So, what would you like to be when you grow out?

Dear Brooklyn,
I can go out of town and rest assured my dog will be able to feed on roaches, silverfish, weave and chicken bones. Brooklyn: a real Horn & Horn for dogs!

Dear Rosa,
Why don't you spend more time writing and less time customizing your Xbox avatar.

Dear Rosa,
You took your Xbox apart, this does not mean you can tell people you're a mechanic.

Dear Birth Control,
Because of you not only do I know which day of the week it happens to be, I also know that whatever day it is, it won't be ruined.

Dear 25,
I hope you can handle as many snacks as 24 because I have no intention of limiting my intake, or South Beach-ing, or Atkins-ing, or bulimia-ing.

Dear M&M On The Floor,
The saddest part, is that I fell asleep while debating to pick you up. The greatest part, is that now I am well rested and can fully appreciate you. The weird part, is that I haven't left this room for 9 days... oh well! MELTS IN YOUR MOUTH!

Dear Guyz,
I used to be white guy territory but thanks to a rich Peruvian influence on my physique, I'm moving into black guy territory faster than you can say "neck tattoo wit his name!"

TRAINING FEELS

2010-06-24T14:44:00.000-07:00

Dear Neighbor With Painted Toe Nails Dog,
You know what they say about owners and their dogs.. they say, "Manicure a Spaniel, you're not a wackjob."

Dear Gilt Groupe,
Sure, send me more emails than my own mother. I'm way more interested in deals on couture than the touching story of Meekah: the cat that raised an orphaned squirrell.

Dear Train,
Alt. song titles: "Sops of Screwpiter", "Plops of Poopiter", "Tops of Stupider." (You know how sometimes your idiocracy overpowers the validity of your point?)

Dear Douche Bag Movie Snob,
This: "WHHOAAA, AND YOU CALL YOURSELF A MOVIE BUFF?! GIRL YOU'RE A FRAUD!" Should never follow this: "Actually no, I haven't seen Mystic Pizza.

Dear Douche Bag Movie Snob,
Ah yes, but can your Criterion Collection fulfill your wildest sexual fantasies? No, I won't call you Lars von Trier, have fun with your tapes.

Dear Bluetooth,
How does it feel to be approaching beeper status on the joke spectrum?

Dear Rosa,
No more Chicken Nuggets or Google images until you get some fucking work done.

Dear Laziness,
I am so glad you stopped by. Don't worry you are not overstaying your welcome. I love being stressed over my lack of progress to the point of feeling like I have to piss out of my heart but mom won't pull over.

Dear Ex,
Dating you was like dating the kid that had all the cool toys, but no batteries for those toys. A Monster Truck is not "Monster" unless it's backed by a D-cell.

Dear Rehabilitated Street Walker,
A hooker never changes it's bruises.

Dear Lisa Frank,
Down side: Turns out cats aren't meant to be radio-active orange. Plus side: I'm more of a dog person.

Dear Guy,
You think I care about the pop-punk band you played lead guitar for in high school? Well, I do... And yes I would love to come over and listen to Hot Rod Circuit.

Dear Train,
After exstensive trial and error I still can't seem to listen like Spring, talk like June.

Dear Insecure Women,
It's best to be up front with men, that way they can finger you on the way to dropping you off for night classes.

Dear Indecisive Couple,
I hope you find the perfect seat in this restaurant, I really do.

Dear Checkout Mami,
I don't know what's more difficult, suppressing my jealousy of your gorgeous, eternally youthful face, or you punching in the code for my veggies with them long ass acrylics.

Dear Train,
Please understand this harassment comes from a place as cryptic and nonsensical as your band's "music".

Dear Train,
Tupac VS Biggie -of course, Eminem VS Moby -eh, but Train VS Jason Mraz? I mean sure, I would definitely kill myself.

Dear Train,
No, I cannot imagine "no pride, love, deep-fried chicken," or (unfortunately) my best friend always sticking up for me... even when he knows I am wrong.

Dear Lissie,
I enjoy your cover of "Pursuit of Happiness" but I thoroughly enjoy your uncovered gazongas in the video for "Pursuit of Happiness".

Dear LA,
I'm packing: 1. Sun block, 2. New wallet with special DUI club card compartment.

Dear Lebron,
For three days I thought your name was Lebanon. So look, you aren't so popular after all. And I'm not so smart after all.

Dear YMCA,
I have decided to cancel my membership. As long as teenage girls keep making mistakes, I will have loaded strollers to haul up crowded subway stairs.

S O Cess

2010-06-02T20:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Therapist,
These fun-lovin' twenty-somethings that surround me don't bother me one bit; So content with getting hammered and banging each other til the ice coffee squirts from their pierced noses.

Dear Therapist,
I guess I just feel excluded. You see, you aren't allowed to play unless you've received "bartender of the month" at least twice.

Dear Trust Fund Baby,
No, I am super jealous. I wish money had stripped me of all human qualities until I was nothing more than a paper doll consuming truck tacos. I wish I could grow up in your shoes so my life's story could be Hugh Grant's About A Boy.

Dear Ass,
I am aspiring to be an agile woman, not a bus-driving woman.

Dear Mailman,
If I were you I would continue to throw mail around the foyer. I would think that was fun, and I would have a blast defiling Valu-Paks. Yea, I would continue this behavior until I opened up a certain mailbox and A PYTHON JUMPED OUT TO WRAP ITS FANGS AROUND MY TRACHEA. I know you know where my Delia's catalog went.

Dear MTA Attendant,
You're too busy for my inquiry? Oh I completely understand, I would hurry home too if I had a Phoenix course starting soon.

Dear MTA Attendant,
Just clowin' go ahead and get dat education, gurl.

Dear Old School Williamsburg Residents,
It's so hard to tell who is in there 70's and who is in their 20's. So why are you so angry these hipsties moved in? Embrace this; Embrace this like the polyester pants suit embraces your saggy flesh.

Dear Former Roommate,
You are approximately: 55% Single White Female, 25% Hand That Rocks The Cradle, 20% "Puck"-Real World: San Francisco.

Dear Sloth Roommate,
My fault, I forgot we were still in Retarded Person College; That explains your irritability/dirty dish collection.

Dear Insane Roommate,
I don't blame you for being crazy. I blame Craigslist.org for attempting to reinstate the benefit of the doubt in people.

Dear Reader,
How many crazy roommates does it take to screw in a light bulb? One to screw it in, and one to listen to its demands.

Dear "I Smoke A Lot Because I'm, Like, European,"
The only thing more upsetting than a 26 year old that looks 40, is a 26 year old that looks 50. I mean don't get me wrong, girl, I love introducing you as "not my mom."

Dear Unemployed Roommate,
Let me get this straight... you only come out at night, you dress like a cartoon, but you don't fight crime?

Dear Disgusting Roommate,
I'm no expert on Latin culture, but I'm pretty sure "tacos in bed" is no Mexican custom.

Dear Promiscuous Roommate,
Whoooo's ready for another game oooof Musical Men!! Just you.

Dear Promiscuous Roommate,
The next dude is splitting the internet bill.

Dear Former Roommate,
New words I am in love with because of you! "Mellow," "European," "Sexbomb," "Homie," "Spliff," "Psychotic," "Restraining order."

Dear Roommate From Hell,
Why'd I stop introducing you to my guy friends? Well, I can most surely tell you that it isn't because you'd sleep with them immediately. But I can tell you that it is because you'd sleep with them almost immediately.

Dear New Tenants,
If these walls could be cutters..

Dear New Life/New Apartment,
Now my only concern is where to put my plants and not where to hide my food and checkbooks.

Dear Renter Victims,
Look on the bright side! Now we have an excuse to make some "...and all I got was this lousy T-shirt" T-shirts!

Dear Reader,
If you shared/share a living space with someone who is unstable, I don't feel your pain...it played saxophone in my face.

Up In The Ire

2010-05-08T13:18:00.001-07:00

Dear Helpful New Yorker,
Let's make sure we speak the same language first, ya?

Dear Helpful New Yorker,
When I say "I know where I am going" I guess that means I want you to help find where I'm going. If it's anything like your ability to pick up on human energy, sure, I trust your sense of directions.

Dear Rosa,
If you're home in the middle of the day, writing something, drinking homemade ice coffee, ripping the new Grizzly Bear album, you are right where to need to be in life. Brooklyn.

Dear Ma,
Oh my goodness! This Purina Dog Chow dog DOES look exactly like my dog! I mean, the resemblance is uncanny. This dog looks identical to my dog..you noticed..clipped it out..mailed it on up to me..so I could also see the resemblence. And will you look at that!..Doppelganger! Gee-wiz!

Dear Ma,
Please do not take my last note as anything other than these three things:
1. My plea for similar dog clippings.
2. My look-forwardedness to mail.
3. Gratitude.

Dear Puetro Rican "Mami" From Earlier Today,
If we pass each other on the street, and we both have "dat ass," the appropriate protocol is to exchange a nod of recognition à la Jeep owners, or homies, or people with underbites.

Dear Broker,
"Titties" is not an acceptable answer to: "How much is the broker's fee?"

Dear Redneck Picnic Members Of The South,
I had a swell time. Nothing like flies all over round Confederate children, as opposed to bony African children.

Dear Guy With This Obnoxious Phrase,
"I'm just clownin'" is a phrase for toddlers and oldies to use, anything they do is adorable. You still have to live here without getting punched in the mouth.

Dear Big People,
It's summer. The time of year where I look 18 instead of 12, and you look wet instead of dry.

Dear Wrong Number Caller,
Ok, you convinced me, I am Allison Gomez. I was just clownin'.

Dear Redneck Asshole,
I'd knock every tooth out of your head if you weren't already gummin' it.

Dear Redneck Neighbor,
We are never "drinkin' fuckin' behrs."

Dear Killers (Starring Ashton Kutcher/Kathrine Hiegl),
You are the Mr. and Mrs. Smith of your time. Now people of this era can enjoy some gun-to-penis analogies! And the I-can't-believe-I-marrieds!

Dear Ex-Boyfriend Character,
I got tested two weeks prior to your phone call and my test results came back 100% un-pregnant, and 100% un-std. However, I decided not to interrupt as you mumbled that I should get tested for chlamydia. Why? Because..what a treat.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend Character,
"Thanks for nothing." (Seriously)

Dear Goth Looking Kid Nodding Off On L Train,
What the fuck does The Nightmare Before Christmas have to do with Heroin?

Dear Loud Ass WASP,
I am staring at you because you were talking to me. Oh you weren't talking to me? Oh you're all the way across the waiting area? Oh... THEN WHY ARE YOU TALKING SO LOUD ABOUT KRISTIN CAVALLARI?

Dear Passenger In D13,
Don't you think if the pilot had control over the weather, he would also have control over the shitty in-flight movie? Yea, so stop complaining about the delay and watch Did You Hear About The Morgans?

Ghostown With The Mostown

2010-04-03T15:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Party Guests,
Leave if you have mentioned -even once- that the Avocado pits keep guacamole from turning brown. Punch yourself in the face -before you leave- if you referred to the dip as "GUAC."

Dear Birthday Girl,
You don't have to say "IT'S MAH FUCKING BIRTHDAY" every five seconds. I did not develop short term memory loss on the way over to this thing. However (silver lining) you look identical to every other "betch" in this joint... So thanks, now I know I won't be mistaken when I pummel you with "birthday licks."

Dear Gay Community,
Why can't the heteros adopt your talent for naming bars? i.e. "Pieces." Love it.

Dear Coachella,

I couldn't be there this year. I never thought I'd visit a music festival, so far my predictions are in tune. I don't like sticky. Or Bud Light. Or getting molested by a Gorillaz fan in a Built By Wendy tee shirt. I passed, on this year's getting stuck in a colossal, sweaty, human membrane

/blob. I passed on the bags upon bags of patches, glow lights, and stickers. I am not 7, I no longer have an affinity for stickers.

Dear John Travolta,
In the year 2012 the world, as we know it, will end...as predicted by the Mayans. You will bloat into a rotund shape the likes of Violet Beauregarde. One unfortunate day you will run into a thicket. When pricked, the planet will flood with your bloat fluid...as predicted by me. As indicated by your compact largess.

Dear Viewers,
John Travolta stars in the new motion picture "Bug Out Bob."

Dear Dog Camp,
Do I look like I have time for you to whisper your farewells in my dog's ear? That's a dog. A dog. It don't know you.

Dear Memphis,

Get some, uh, PEOPLE.

Dear Homeless,

Move to Hawaii, and your predicament instantly goes from dying on the streets, to 24/7 Hakuna Matata. What a wonderful phrase. Hakuna Matata, Ain't no passin' craze. It means no worries, for the rest of your days. It's our problem free, philosophy. Hakuna Matata.

Dear Salvia & Hot Pockets,

Both take two minutes. Both make regret.

Dear 2R,

When I asked to use your internet key, you said "no." Your reasoning: "I don't want the whole neighborhood in on this, but you're welcome to come on in and use my comp." My reason to decline: Okay, so you're saying you don't like to share, but the herpes on your mouth beg to differ. Context clues from your network name (BlastinBeef2R) suggest your network key isn't inspired by a Shakespearean sonnet.

Dear 3L,
No its fine, I love Irish clog dancing. I love it.

Dear Ex Boyfriend Character,

I feel like Stella trying to get her groove back. Only I'm Rosa trying to get my pin collection back. That Seattle pin is a rare gem. Rare gem.

Dear Delta,

Obviously I would rather you take my face wash rather than arrest me. Obviously.

Dear Rosa,

Creativity is not a hooker you can call up at any hour and expect satisfaction. Creativity is the hooker that you finally run over with your car.

Dear Tracy and Whoopi,
TWINS. Fraternal. And by "fraternal" I mean you are brothers.

Dear Obscure Positive Rap Group Name Inquirer,
Do I look like I'm wearing flannel and leather? Do I don the bandanna of a rap poet? Do you see a volunteer name tag?

Tracy Chapman,
Re: Turn right back around. So did you?

Dear Ace of Base,
Do you feel Mrs. Chapman borrowed too generously from your smash hit "Don't Turn Around?" Maybe this was a call and response sorta thing?

Dear Feminists,
Woman. Womyn. Women. Womyn. What's the difference when that's not how men see you?

Dear New Mom,
Yes, your son's fart is very, very amusing. So cute. Man! that little one is so cute. You know I was just telling someone else at the cafe on the corner, how cute my friend's son Tyler is. Tyler is why I get up in the morning. Tyler. TYLER. YOUR SON TYLER AT THE COFFEE SHOP TO STRANGERS GET UP IN THE MORNING.

Dear Dad,
Hey thanks for packing those books. I love to read when I'm traveling. Fortunately, I got to read half of Lenin For Beginners, and finished the Marxist lit before I hit security check. Now that I'm in jail I can finally get to Trotsky.

Dear Boring Long-term Relationship,
Hey, at least I got out of this thing with my love of Cheers still intact.

Dear Girl-pal,
Yo, don't ask me if you need to shave your legs. He said he's "taken." Of course shave them legs, girl. You don't want him getting bored of you like he got bored of his old lady.

Dear LA,
I drove around for hours and hours and couldn't find you. I got stuck in a large Sears parking lot and couldn't seem to find my way out. Luckily I mapped route home using only billboards and Jesus impersonators. Heavens to Betsy you are hard to fall in love with.

See Medieval Hear Medieval Speak Medieval

2010-02-14T14:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Chaucer,
Thanks for helping me continue my trend of blaming yesteryear figures for my modern day problems.

Dear Rite Aid,
It IS too soon to start putting out Thanksgiving day shit. Although I do like buying Easter shit at an extreme discount. Candles are always good, no matter what they represent.

Dear Wikipedia,
Thank you for highlighting the important nouns throughout information write-ups. I scroll down down a lot, and very rarely do I understand what to digest. Because of you, I now know that Love has something to do with: Affection, Oneness, Chemistry, Image, Lust, Hate, The Middle Ages. That's really all I need.

Dear Mom,
You can keep calling me your "Li'l Valentine" But we all know I'll still cry.

Dear New Boyfriend Character,
No, no, no! I'd love to lay in bed all day staring at you and ignoring the outside world. Sure! I'd love to take another nap!, OF COURSE! Let's eat again, I don't have anywhere to be at the moment and I wont have anywhere to be ever again, because I LOVE YOU AND THIS IS GOING TO WORK.

Dear Mom,
Gchat is not a medium for "quickie emails."

Dear WWE,
I am not retarded, and I still enjoy a good folding chair to the head.

Dear Price Is Right,
I may never experience the same level of enthusiasm as your contestants when I drive off the lot, in my NEW CAR!

Dear Ex-Boyfriend Character,
Think of it this way, now you only have to clean your room so that your door opens enough for one body to squeeze through.

Dear White Trash Community,
I love how you list your tattoos and piercings like credentials. I learned from you, that the only effective way to push down a pulled pork sandwich and fries is with 4 glasses of Pepsi. Hey let's go muddin' later! Can I get a drag of that jack?

Dear Date Rapist,
Really? You're going to have an Raspberrytini too? Really? You want what I'm having? okay. Just know I am too lazy to take this impractical cocktail glass to the bathroom, and that you didn't pull a fast one.

Dear OTB,
During those nicer days, you prop your door open. I think it's great those last hopes and dreams can finally blow out with breeze.

Dear Movers,
Sure have a seat on my bed, cause that wont turn me on. You act like the $500 I just dropped didn't already make me want you. What can I say? You can take the girl out of the desperate, but not the desperate out of the girl.

Dear Bushwick Brooklyn,
I live in Greenpoint/Williamsburg now and it's alright. But I miss you. I miss walking super fast after 5pm, and the constant bass, and jingling my keys to frighten the swarming rats, and Pumps- the seedy titty bar, and the racism, and the sadness, and the darkness, and the tears... everyone needs a good cry... it's really the fuckin' little things man. Don't worry I'll still come back for tacos. Damn fine tacos.

Dear Scorsese and DiCaprio,
Just make out already. Jesus Christ.

Dear Summer,
You are right around the corner. Can't wait to shed these layers. Can't wait to look 18 instead of 13.

Wrecknicolor

2010-01-24T11:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Next Door Margie,
Look, I love impromptu conversations about houseplants as much as the next gal, but you can't just pop out of your apartment like that. I nearly lost my shit last time you cornered. Don't bumrush me Margie! I bring up your mail isn't that enough?

Dear Ma,
I can handle it when you call underwear "wanties," but I can't handle it when you call him my "dad."

Dear Merriam-Webster,
I have your eleventh edition paperback dictionary. On the back cover, you urge readers to "take charge of today's language, with words like identity theft, webcam, outsource." What a grim, and slightly creepy, choice of words. You didn't have to choose these words to represent what's up-to-date about the world. In fact you have another "2,000 new words" you could have chosen. When did you get so edgy?

Dear John Carpenter,
Today I thought, "I'm going to get my act together! I'm going to be productive!" Then I thought "Haha good one Rosa! You win again Big Trouble in Little China."

Dear G train Shuttle Bus,
I finished a crossword, had a full-length conversation with my mom, painted my nails, updated all of my social networking sites, ate a sandwich, made a friend, gave him a bight of my sandwich, tried a new variation on tying my shoe laces, became religious, brushed up on current tragedies, practiced my french, practiced my Jack Nicholson, and took a nap before you decided to grace us with your presence. Thanks for showing me what it was like to be schizophrenic and homeless.

Dear Dog Park Dog Owners,
No, I don't care what "May-Belle" eats, I don't care how "Thunder" feels about the vacuum, and I most certainly could care less about "Cheema" and her "spraying."

Dear New Yorkers,
You can't bully the weather. You think January cares if you where you tank top in protest? Nah. It doesn't. It's January, and it doesn't have a stance on global warming.

Dear Late Night Fans Without A TV,
Synopsis: Leno vs Conan, Letterman vs Leno, Kimmel vs Leno, Leno vs NBC, Conan vs NBC, Daly vs Autism.

Dear Parents,
Thanks for helping me buy "groceries." I had so much fun with the "groceries" I bought, I think I'm going to need more "groceries" soon. Like tomorrow, or maybe tonight. I really need some "groceries." Please. You know I'm good for some "groceries."

Dear GIGI,
You are great to have around, I love you my pup! Besides cuddling with you is slightly less hairy than cuddling with him. Plus, you don't scratch as hard.

Dear Moronicus,
Your kid is running up and down the platform, with one shoe, there's a train coming, and you get mad at me for picking her up? That's fair, totally fair, I guess, I mean I am the fucking blonde from The Hand That Rocks the Cradle.

Dear Smokey the Bear,
Only YOU can stay the fuck out of my camping trip.

Dear Date,
The only thing worse than seeing Avatar, was seeing the look on your face when I dumped you for taking me to see Avatar. The only thing worse than seeing you look so sad, is having to see Avatar again with a guy I liked enough to endure the pain.

Dear Japanese Movie "Hauzu,"
Sorry, I don't think they hand out Oscars for "Best Loud Neon Sounds"

Dear Friends,
Jurassic Park is a fine film, so stop laughing at my t-shirt. I'm serious, it hurt my feelings back then, and hurts my feelings now.

Dear Rosa,
Get laid! Get a job! No more eating peanut butter from the jar! Moisturize!

Dear Late Night Fans,
...George Lopez vs His tan.

Dear Boyfriend Character,
I like you, I really do. So as soon as you find a place that provides shock therapy, we can totally do this thing, you and me.

Dear Selena,
"Bidi Bidi Bang Bang"

Dear Whoopi Goldberg,
You fascinate me. I've never seen a sex change in slow motion before.

Dear Rosa,
Here are some ideas for you memoir's title:
"Zits, Tits and Hissy Fits" by Rosa Salazar
"Yea... OK" by Rosa Salazar
"Shmarry Shmotter and the Shmoblet of Shmire" by Rosa Salazar
"Li'l RoRo" by Sapphire

Love Shlongs

2009-12-30T17:21:00.000-08:00

Dear Facebook,
Thanks. Now every insignificant douche bag from my past can "reconnect" with me. Oh look! That guy I refused a BJ in high school wants to be my friend. Ignore... you totally blew it.

Dear Former Boyfriend Characters,
Just because you murmur, "I was gonna bring this up too" doesn't make this break up "mutual."

Dear The Word Mutual,
I hate you for being one half of the phrase "Mutually Exclusive." Everybody says it, nobody can explain it.

Dear G Train,
You come more infrequently than a faithful house wife.

Dear Curiosity Shoppe,
I wish you never went bankrupt. You were my first job, and I cherished you, even if my boss was a drug addict whose meth addiction was only succeeded by her Subway subs addiction.

Dear Friends,
Don't say "I should heat up the rest of that (blank) I made yesterday" if you don't have enough to share, and if I can run faster than you.

Dear Mac Users,
If you're so happy with your "superior product" then why are you the ones who initiate the PC/Mac conversation? "Well my mac-book pro is blah blah blah" Yeah I get it, it costs more, great. Now why don't you go save a file and try to find it.

Dear Owl City,
I can't be tough enough to not listen. It's like Dashboard Confessional all over again. And you know what? I don't wanna fight it.

Dear Loneliness,
I'll say this, at least that Netflix subscription is getting some mileage.

Dear New Years Eve,
You are the coolest holiday on the block. If you were a person, you'd wear Ray Ban shades all the time, grease the host at every restaurant, wear a suit on Sunday, and say things like "Outa Sight" and "Hello Dollface." You were so good to me this year, such a gentleman.

Dear Reader,
Did you know that on New Years Eve, 60% of the people standing in Times Square are wearing diapers? Apparently once you get into the crowd, its too tough to get out, use the bathroom, and weave back in. So if you have to tinkle/poo poo, you're out of luck... UNLESS, you completely debase yourself by throwing on some Depends so you can soil yourself amongst others who are, yep, also soiling themselves. 5,4,PEE,DEUCE,1 HAPPY POO YEAR!

Dear Meat,
After much debate, I have decided to say goodbye. On the one hand you're riddled with pesticides and carcinogens. You cost more, you cause heart disease, you're the reason animals die, you're fattening, and dirty. On the other hand... dude, bacon.

Dear Veggies,
I just want you to know, you'll never be what meat was to me. That being said I'll give this union what I've got, but no promises.

Dear Hair,
Please grow so I don't have to endure the Aubrey Plaza look-a-like contest anymore.

Dear Savage Garden,
Owl City covered Truly, Madly, Deeply, and renamed it Vanilla Twilight. This version also has me crying on the floor, framed picture of Joshua Jackson clenched to my chest. The county fair where I won this picture no longer comes around, but my feelings remain. Joshua.

Dear Edward Furlong,
The previous message would've been address to you, but you got all bloated from doing drugs with Natasha Lyonne. You got un-cute dude. Jimmy and Judy was disturbing, there's no way I'd cry over you to Savage City (Savage Garden/Owl City mash up).

Dear Less Than Jake,
I just realized I've seen you live more than any other musical act.

Dear Ikea,
I know we've been at odds for a year... but I forgive you. You offer a cheap yet delicious breakfast. And when I'm there, eating your savory Swedish meatballs, I look around and I notice how happy you make the elderly crowd. You have given them a place of there own to brunch (sans drunk 20-somethings). They are so cute with their dressed up clothes and their make-up and their spouses of like 60 years. Old people rule. I get a free (somewhat skewed) history lesson every time have breakfast at the Ikea Cafe. And oh the NAPS! So many nice post-breakfast naps I've had at Ikea.

Dear Reader,
Donna Lewis is not the same as Jenny Lewis. If you want me to put it into context: Donna Lewis was who I listened to when I was in 4th grade and I spent the better part of my Saturdays skipping around Claire's accessory store and pining over Keolu Fox (swoon). Jenny Lewis is that cute little red-head that introduced me to the "girl crush."(swoon)

Dear Rosa,
Falling in love will never be as easy as getting a cup of coffee, so you'll probably never look into it.

Dear Boys,
I only say I'll never fall in love because that is what I want the most. Like in the Lewis Lewis songs (Donna Lewis/Jenny Lewis mash up).

XTREME XMAS

2009-12-24T05:18:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa,
I considered making a list, sure, unfortunately I never got around to it. Get off my back. I have a tight schedule. Can I risk derailing productivity to make a juvenile wishlist? No. Besides, you’re the one with powers, why don’t you guess what I want. I’m 24 years old, you’ve been at it for over two decades, you must have an inkling of what I want by now. How about this, give me like 4 more hours on every day, then maybe I’ll be able to harness the time and energy to get to your fucking list, and making your goddamn cookies, JESUS CHRIST SANTA. I’M ONLY ONE WOMAN, FINE PUT ME ON THE NAUGHTY LIST, GIVE ME COAL , I LOVE COAL, VALUABLE RESOURCE.

Dear Santa,
I want a month long metro card. Or a more lucrative career.

Dear Santa,

I want you to want me. I need to you need me. I’d love you to love me. I’m begging you, to beg me.

Dear Santa,

So wait, you’re like, Jesus or something? No you’re like.. a saint.. that.. eats toys??

Dear Santa,

I dreamt that you were making the rounds, dropping off toys, doing your thing. But then you had to make a pee stop. So you parked your sleigh atop a gas station, but they wouldn’t give you the bathroom key, so you had to hold it. You took off, but then you were like “Nah, that’s naughty, I’m gonna give that attendant some coal, o’ naturale. So you flew back and dropped a jolly ol’ deuce on his register. Then, as you flew into the wintery sky, you bellowed “Merry Christmas to balls, and to balls a good night.”

Dear Santa,

I’m sure there’s some angry mom group in suburban America that holds you responsible for childhood obesity.

Dear Jewish Friends Who Aren't Familiar With the 8 Reindeer Who Haul Santa's Fat Ass Around from House to House On Christmas Eve,

Dasher: A fine cook.

Dancer and Prancer: British.

Vixen: Maxim magazine hopeful.

Comet: Named after the Fullhouse dog.

Cupid:Intrusive

Donner: survivalist.

Blitzen: Deadhead.

Rudolph: Millhouse in reindeer form.

Dear Santa,

Who do you think does you best?

A. Tim Allen

B. Billy Bob Thorton

C. All of the above

Dear John Frankenheimer,

Maybe you should have just made a happy Christmas movie about Reindeers playing games, like Risk, or Scrabble, you know like for real. Ben Afflelck is perfect to star as Rudolph, since no respectable director wants him to join in on their cast.

PS: Someone shoulda knocked some Frankinsense into you. John "No FrankenSENSE" Frankenheimer. I'll heckle a dead man.

Dear Jimmy Fallon,

Merry Christmas, this year I bought you a personality.

Dear Santa,

I sent you my resume over a decade ago and I still haven’t heard back about the apprenticeship. I am hardworking, punctual, and my biggest flaw is that I work too hard. So, I guess what I want from you this year is… a chance.

Dear Santa,

Are you aware of how judgmental you are? "Oh, you're naughty, oh but you, you're nice." HO, HO, WHO the fuck are you? Pretty big talk from someone who encourages the use of carbon dioxide-emitting fossil fuels. In summation, you had a hand in the murder of one Mother Earth. Thus, I wouldn't elect you as the authority on whether my behavior is satisfactory enough to receive toys.

Dear Bill Murray,

Scrooged is a slam dunk.

Dear Grandma,

This year we won’t be spending Christmas together, so I’m chain smoking Doral 100s around the clock, in your honor. I wish you were here in Maryland. Here to hand me the ten dollars I look forward to every year.

Dear Mom,

“Totes” –No longer an acceptable gift. Step up your game.

Dear Reader,

Totes: A no-slip sock with grippies on the bottom; A gift I received for as long as I can remember; A joke that has run its course.

Dear Mom,

You have kids, you had to pretend to be Santa, I get that. What I don't get, is why this prompted you to stop waxing your facial hair. No excuse.

Dear Daddy,

When wrapping a gift with such a recognizable shape. Put said gift in a box first, commence wrapping. This year I want to be surprised when I get a NOTHING.

Dear Victor,

Stop signing the Christmas cards like this: “Your brother, Victor Salazar,” “Your son, Victor Salazar,” “Your Redskins fan, Victor Salazar,” “Your dancing queen, Victor Salazar.” I know who you are, okay?!

Dear Santa,

Your portrayal of Gimli in LOTR was tour de force.

Stress Prince

2009-12-12T11:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Guy,
Don't look at me like I'm the dick. If you don't remember, YOU'RE the one who said I have "hamster hands," then spent the next 10 minutes back tracking. "Oh, c'mon Hamsters have extra grippies in their palms." Wow.

Dear Mom,
Seasonal Affective Disorder is seasonal. That means, it's here, then it goes away. Cyclical.

Dear Vikings,
Right on.

Dear Fat Dudes,
You hit on me like I'm a Christmas ham and shit. And that's what I like.

Dear New Boyfriend Character,
Let's just say you signed up for a Double Dare obstacle course that NEVER. ENDS.

Dear Party Guests,
Sorry about last night, and sorry about that mass apology text. I just thought I could hit two birds with one stone.. just like how I destroyed that flat screen/Jenny's face in the name of a joyous cartwheel. What can I say? Don't play that Black Eyed Peas song.

Dear Rudelington Roomate,
No I will not be eating that apple pie. No, you may not "have some." That apple pie, will sit in the fridge until it turns so many colors it puts ROYGBIV to shame. Now how do you feel about the "putting our names on shit" rule you implemented? What are we in pre-school? Do I look like I have a fucking cubby?

Dear Single Friends,
Stop telling me how lonely you are, or I'll argue with you over something meaningless for hours, storm out, then call 50 or 60 times, come back, cry with you, have meaningful eye-locked sex, tell you how much I missed you, get offended when you say "it's only been a few hours," pick a fight with you, cry, go into the other room and marinate in anger, cry...

Dear Wikipedia,
Wiki this!, mother fucker.

Dear Nostalgia,
You give people an excuse to make their new friends feel left out. Thanks.

Dear Halloween,
Next year I'm going as Hot Gollum.

Dear Chicks,
That's the lil dude from LOTR

Dear Chicks,
Lord Of The Rings.

Dear Micah,
It's Album, not "Alvum."

Dear Queen Latifah,
After years of investigation, I finally know what you did with "Da Brat." You ate that bitch. Guess who no longer "rocks ruff and tuff with her afro puffs?" Da Brat.

Dear Queen Latifah,
"U.N.I.T.Y" reminds me to drink Cranberry juice, but also Pavlovianly ignites a flame in my tract. (Had to let you know)

Dear Aunt Viv #1,
I stayed loyal for as long as I could.

Dear Public,
Check out my sex tape. It's me having boring monogamous sex with the same man I've been having boring monogamous sex with for quite some time. Check out the Spesh. Feats. and learn how to always stay on the bottom!

Dear The Word "Power,"
Power suit, power bottom, power ranger, power hour, power nap. Alright!

Family Ailbum

2009-11-12T10:41:00.000-08:00

Dear Ruby Tuesday's,
You and my Grandmother have the same taste.

Dear 13yr Old Me,
Joshua Jackson never asks you out. However, there's a bum that will repeatedly hit on you and although he's covered in urine, the attention will make you feel better about hitting rock bottom. Bonus: He calls himself Gracey, which sounds an awful lot like Pacey... dReaM CoMe trUe!

Dear 90s Support Group,
It's been, one week since you talked with me. I've been listening to tunes from my fave decade on loop in my car. I'm sorry but I cannot stop. That decade was beast! Maybe its cause, daddy never paid attention, and I was something that mommy didn't wear? Or maybe this is just the crossroads, crossroads, crossroads. I know one thing, this ain't no funky reggae party... I gotta find a reason things went wrong, why my money's all gone. I feel like a sinner and a saint... Isn't it ironic?

Dear Lizzy,
You taught me how to smoke cigarettes and weed. Now if only you taught how to smoke chemistry books. I'd know a whole lot more about 5th and 6th period.

Dear Eleanor Roosevelt,
Oh dear! I can't believe your plan to take away sidewalks was a bad idea. Who would have guessed, that making paths and tunnels through the woods wouldn't keep children safe? Who would've guessed that adolescents (notorious for there maturity) would figure out that these paths and tunnels would serve as perfect places to do drugs and light things on fire without those pesky cops getting in the way? Who would've thought that these paths and tunnels would excite youngsters with lost boy thoughts of escape routes and portals to all places around town. Who would've guessed that your good intentions, to keep children away from traffic, would have been used for ill practice? Me, I would've guessed. "New Deal" -perfect name for a place where drugs are dealt even in the public library.

Dear God,
Thanks for sex. Thanks for Lactaid pills. Thanks for Eddie Murphy. Thanks for the movie "Mac and Me." Thanks for the back back set in station wagons. Thanks for HBO. Thanks for the relief that comes with finally getting to pee after holding it for a really long time.

Dear Mom,
The only thing I ever "grew in to" are your emotional problems. I can't cope with the fact that Vic's hand-me-down Bartman Tee STILL DOESN'T FIT. It still looks like a fucking night gown.

Dear God,
I had a really painful gas bubble leaving this dude's apt this morning. Because SOMEBODY, decided it would be funny to invent gas. And SOMEBODY, thought it would be a real laugh if I had to fart all night, but forced myself to hold it in... because SOMEBODY invented sex, and I really wanted to have it. Not cool big guy, not cool.

Dear God,
You created all Hispanic girls in your image. We all have long brown hair... and mustaches.

Dear Grandma,
You still get up every morning, and get ready for work. It isn't until you get to the car that you realize you've been retired for over 20 years. I hope when I'm old and senile, my mind chooses more interesting places to wonder. I hope I wake up, and get ready for the Anti-Flag concert, and it isn't until I'm crowd surfing that I realize I haven't taken Anti-Flag seriously for over however many years I've been alive.

Dear Mom,
What's the difference between talking to you about money, and a Sledgehammer to the head? There is no difference. I know there's no reasoning with a sledgehammer either.

Dear Everyone,
Stop asking me if I read "The Road." Or I'm going to turn around and ask you if you have read it, and you'll have to admit you haven't read it either. I am the kind of person who will read it out of spite and then quiz you. And I'm telling you now, if you think I'll take "I don't remember a lot of the book" as an answer, you're wrong.

Dear Background Artists,
You have mastered the art. The art of eating Cheetos, talking about "Smoke Pay, " and sitting. Kudos.

Dear Mom,
There is no such thing as after after care. That guy couldn't just leave me our front of the rec. center.

Dear Family,
No more forwarded messages about inspirational feats, pictures of "wild" accidents, or jokes about deodorant.

Dear Bank Of America,
You have make me fake cry more than AT&T. The most I've ever paid for an acting classes.

Dear Children,
The only thing that doesn't change is the crying and the booger picking. No more snacks, no more accepted outbursts, no more whining, no more bathroom buddies. Unless you get yourself into a long term relationship.

Dear Charlie Brown,
You're in a child-run town where kids don't take showers, lemonade stands and doctor stands line the streets, animals talk, grown-ups have gag-balls in their mouths. Forget Sesame Street, how do I get to where you are?

Dear 13yr Old Me,
I'm pretty sure your AOL IM name "SekCchk18" is the reason for all your misfortune.

Dear Sandals,
I was convinced every vacation looked like the one you showed in your commercials. Imagine my surprise when I got to the Poconos and no one was diving into a pool shaped like a dolphin. Imagine my surprise when my friends unpacked gloves and hats and skis, while I hung up a Tankini.

Dear Friends,
You're all married, or pregnant, or both. Yet I was never asked to be in any of your weddings, or to be godmother to any of your babies. This just means you know me, and respect me enough not to ask, right? Or does it mean, that you know I'll be the drunk toast of the evening, and I'll probably teach your kid how to steal things for me? They have small hands and maximum cuteness! Either way, thank you and congratulations on all of that shit.

PS- I am the only one who watches videos of your baby on Facebook. But do not make me be friends with them because I don't want to introduce them to rejection. Look, I have a strict "must-know-in-person-first policy."

Assistant Anger Manager

2009-10-29T14:22:00.000-07:00

Frou Frou,
Your name can't be Frou Frou, if your music sounds like doo doo. That is too similar... I made that connection like 3 minutes in. Get with it.

Dear George Harrison,
You don't think its even a teensy bit funny, when I fart and go "All Things Must Pass?"

Dear MTA Bus Driver,
Just cause sit I up front, in the seat adjacent to you, that doesn't mean I want to have a conversation. I wasn't at my house like "Aw, you know what... I am lonely! I'll get on the bus and sit in that seat by the front door, and hope, and pray, Mr. "wide hips" mumbles out a non-sequitur at me. Look, just take me to the fucking train station, where MTA employees respect your personal space SO much, they do everything in their power to keep from talking to you. Even when you ask them a question, they're stone-faced. You need to embrace this kind of professionalism.

Dear Guy I've Been Seeing,
Very rarely do I meet someone that exceeds my awkwardness. You are very talented.

Dear Doughnuts,
Dessert? Or Breakfast?

Windows, er, whatever controls my desktop,
Yo, if you could figure out a way to make my Gmail inbox my desktop background, that would be cool, cause I always have it open anyway, I check my mail, while I'm checking my mail, while I'm checking my mail. Sometimes, I'm check mail just to finish myself off.

Dear Ikea,
Hogbo, bogpo, dongdo- I don't give a fuck what cute-ass name you call it, MY BACK IS IN PAINBO.

Dear Shakira,
My hips don't lie either. They are constantly reminding me how hard I fell off the snack wagon.

Dear Eli Roth,
Your STARmeter went down 30% this week, is everything alright? Maybe the world is ready for Cabin Fever 2?

Dear Chris Carraba,
Let me pitch this idea to you: You, Usher, duets, collaborations, entitled "These are my Dashboard Confessions" OR "Danceboard Clubfessionals." Or you start a band called "Furtha Seem 4Eva."

Dear Ketchup Connoisseurs,
Look, OK, I know I'm supposed to "hit the 57" and yes, I know to "hit you in the face" when you yell that at me when I'm just trying to enjoy some goddamn home fries. Do not need a tutorial, or your little secrets on getting around this life.

Dear Dad,
If you give me one more gift wrapped in Hanukkah paper, I'm no longer going to believe its a mistake. You've had over a decade to go out and buy christian based wrapping paper.

Dear Dad,
Thanks for all those Slurpees.

Dear Spell Check,
Don't you fucking tell me how to spell Slurpees.

Dear Whoopi Goldberg,
I feel like if you could say something even remotely sexual and I would consider it TMI. Same for you Couric.

Dear Table 10,
Why are you acting like you won? OK, so I forgot your coffee, big deal, you win... You know what else I forgot? To go to college! Yea, that's right, I also forgot to get my life together, and stop drinking. YOU WIN TABLE TEN! YOU FEEL BIG NOW? But for real, I'm terribly sorry, and the coffee is on the house, just please don't talk to my manager.

Dear Halloween,
Just go ahead and rename yourself: "excuse for fatties to be either sexy or funny-day." OR rename yourself: "excuse for preggies to go out and get sloshed without people thinking twice-day" OR "lonely old man gets visited by grand kids he could have had if he weren't such a douche bag in his younger years-day." OR "Galloween" (just cause I know Vincent Gallo wants a day.)

Dear Rosa on Halloween Night,
What do you get the girl who had everything... but lost most of it in a toilet? A new living room carpet, for starters.

Dear NYC,
Please stop it with these signs "Best coffee in the city" or "NYC's best slice!" You could just pour your shitty coffee on me as I run to catch the bus, and I'd hope it would soak into my pores just enough to keep me going. And you pizza guys: You could just grab me by the hair and shove pizza in my face... cause I'm always chewing anyway. I got shit to do, let's skip the formalities.

Dear Taco,
If you don't have a shell, are you just a pile?

Dear Visitors,
I can listen to Ben Folds' "Brick" and mouth the words and slow dance all I want. Its your own fault if you walk into my room and see something you don't want to see. And another thing, I'm always naked during Ben Folds time, so back off.

Goners, Boners, and Honers.

2009-10-07T10:08:00.000-07:00

Dear Great Aunt Marion,
Because you insisted that we only watch the Nostalgia Channel, I developed an unnaturally strong crush on Barnaby Jones. I just thought you should know we were gunning for the same man.

ps: You're both dead. Touche. Checkmate.

Dear Time,
I can't wait til I get old, so I finally have excuses for being me. I can blame my obnoxiousness -on seniority, my uncontrollable bladder -on body failure, my dwarfism -on shrinkage, the laziness -on joint pain, the pills -on a plethora of ailments, and the social mistakes -on dementia.

Dear Trashy Lady,
Maybe if you took all that ignorance out of your mouth, you'd find room to throw in a few teeth.

Dear Boss,
Thanks for waiting the appropriate amount of time before calling me "Short Stuff."

Dear Trashy Lady,
On second thought, I take it back. Installing teeth into your mouth would not be a wise business investment.

Dear Homeless dude,
You straight up took a dump on the street, which is no surprise. But you wiped... which threw me off.

Dear Mom,
I might be too old for osh osh b'gosh. And BTW, I am pretty sure I wont "grow into them" this time.

Dear Mamita,
When I was going through puberty you told me not to scratch my budding breasts. You said that if they itched, that meant they were growing. Well, lets see some results, I did my part. Ans I love a good scratch... sacrifices have been made!

Dear Eleanor Roosevelt High School,
You had 3500 students and no windows. Now I have 3500 insecurities and I live in a windowless bedroom. Foreshadowing! Or maybe not, I don't know, the only thing I learned in high school was how to not get my sneakers stolen. (The secret is: to wear embroidered clogs.)

Dear Jay Z,
You know what? You should rap a song about New York. I feel like that's an untapped resource. I figure maybe you know a lot about New York, so share some insight. Like, I have no idea about boroughs, I wish someone would just list them and talk about them in great detail. Maybe you could mention other rappers, especially if they are New York based, or just passed through, or maybe if they have beef with New York. Speaking of other rappers, maybe you could mention some of your colleagues in your raps, perhaps where they are from? You could talk about rituals, for instance: lighters, and how to put them in the air. And what about dreams? I feel like people come to New York to realize their dreams...

Dear Laundry Lady,
I was under the impression you had a "don't ask, don't tell" policy.

Dear Morning Train Zombies,
You're not going to Auschwitz, perk the fuck up. If subway morale gets any lower I will be forced to do my commuter stand up.

Dear Loneliness,
You're nothing a little string cheese can't handle.

Dear Dashboard Confessional,
What the fuck kind of voodoo, do you do, that makes you powerful enough to implant the words to every one of your songs into my fucking brain? I try to retain information all the time, and cannot. But alas, the words to "Screaming Infidelities" are ready to go, at all times. Chris Carraba, you witch... you fucking sorcerer.

Dear "Shayz Lounge"
You may be just some cheeky little bar in my hood with a horrible name, but goddamit- I love writing at you, drinking hot toddys, instead of writing at starbucks, drinking ghetto-ass-attitude-coffee.

Dear Guy I "Offended" Last Night,
Well? Are you?

Dear Guy I Went On A Date With,
Protocol for noticing that my nipple is visible? TELL ME DURING BRUNCH, NOT THE NEXT DAY.

Dear Guy Who Flashed Me,
I guess we all come to New York to follow our dreams, and if yours is to be noticed, well, I guess I could be considered a hypocrite if I smite you.

Dear Mickey D's,
Yo for real, if I fall off the wagon just a tiny bit harder, I'm coming for you, I SWEAR TO GOD a big mac is in my future.

For the Love of "Game"

2009-09-09T13:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Bed Bugs,
I like a group that perseveres.

Dear Sex drive,
Thanks for going away. I was wondering when I was going to get some work done. It seems that my schedule would be wide open, once my legs were not. Awesome.

Dear Shakira,
HOLY SHIT. The video "She Wolf" WOW. I don't know whats worse, my zoophilia or my lesbianism.

Dear L.A.,
In NY you are that girl who everyone talks shit about in High School, who is really pretty and popular and gets good grades. And even though the same people talking shit act like they know you, they don't have the balls to meet you.

Dear Generation,
How can you be so focused on the Jews VS Muslims feud, when there is a perfectly good, ongoing, Mariah VS Eminem Feud.

Dear Me,
Your ass looks good, don't worry. Remember what that guy in Bushwick said, "STSSS!"

Dear Mom,
Thanks for taking my dog away. I'm glad you did it when you did, otherwise my broke ass would have eaten her by now.

Dear Steven,
NO. I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR BAND. I NEVER WANTED TO SEE YOUR BAND PLAY. THE FIRST TIME YOU ASKED I SAID YES, BUT ONLY TO BE POLITE. BUT SOMEONE JUST COULDN'T BE HAPPY WITH THE OBLIGATORY AGREEMENT I WAS OFFERING. YOU DROVE ME TO THIS. YOU. I DON'T LIKE SKA.

Dear Guy,
Sure I'll go on a date with you. If you're buying I'll have the pork chop. If I'm buying, it must be a hypothetical joke.

Dear Annie,
How long before we're famous? And once we are, can we still share a room?

Dear Crowd at The Creek last night,
Thanks for being there, all 7 of you.

Dear Anybody,
PLEASE HIRE ME.

Dear Reader,
If you have a job for me, I have a potential Snickers for you.

Dear Tattoo,
Why can't you just be like every guy I've ever dated and go away?

Dear Growth Spurt,
Even I've never been this late to something.

Dear Bukowski,
You were right. I know by first hand experience.

Dear Brain,
You've been working really well today. Pants are on, I've eaten, and I haven't slurred once today.

Dear Snow White,
Wishing doesn't work. Crying doesn't work. Sudmission doesn't work. That outfit definitely didn't work. Lessons learned though, right?

Dear Spy VS Spy,
Y'all are like, so best friends. Your energy is better spent at Claire's picking out Yin Yang necklaces.

Dear Google,
Of course meant Doug E doug. Thanks.

Dinobody love me...

2009-07-22T23:18:00.000-07:00

Dear GIGI,
You just loooove chewing the crotch out of my undies. I wish you wore undies, so you could feel how I feel, when I chew out your crotches.

Dear Rosa,
Impulse buying is a bad habit. Impulse buying the VHS tape of "Sister act 2: Back in the Habit," is a no brainer.

Dear Mr. Banks,
I was in 9th grade, you were my Gov't teacher. I was wildly in love with you.

Dear GIGI,
When I readjust my body in bed, don't leap to your feet and stare at me. You are not a human, you shouldn't be in my fuckin bed anyway jerk. I do love your cuddles...

Dear Wine,
How come when I drink the red version of you, I become a mellowed out conversationalist. And when I drink the white version of you, I become a Joan Rivers?

Dear Porn,
I watch you for the commentary.

Dear Red Heels,
You make me look sexy, until I take you off to reveal my mangled feet. Walking around tonight I actually said to myself "don't acknowledge the pain" -Its like watching the new Harry Potter all over again.

Dear High School Vending Machine Guy,
I can still see you standing at the vending machine row, aggressively asking other students "Can I get yo change?!" Literally, I can still see you there.

Dear Jurassic Park,
You are the perfect date.

Dear Car Accident,
Without you, I would have never had the experience of someone sewing up my forehead. How many people have watched a thread and needle go into their face? Besides Mickey Rourke like a trillion times... for fun.

Dear 14 year old Rosa,
These are lyrics to one of your favorite songs circa 1999:
"I'm Good At Being Bad" by TLC
Sunny days Birds singin' sweet soundin' songs of love (That's so pretty girl) As we walk hand in hand Just kickin' up sand As the ocean laps at our feet (ooh) I'm in your arms And all of your charms are for me (Not for me) Check it I need a crunk tight nigga Makes seven figgas Laced with a platinum Not the silver shit nigga And still seek her Ten inch or bigga Know how to lick it and stick it Wha wha

Dear Alanis Morriset, (sp?)
When you drastically cut your hair, I reacted the same way I did when Felicity cut her hair. I cried... because as your locks fell to the ground, so did your career.

Dear Alexander Technique,
It is really hard to monkey down onto the toilet and release when taking the morning pee.

Dear Meisner Technique,
This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.

Dear Li'l Wayne,
My mom likes you, and I don't know its out of fear like it was with DMX. She thinks your natural approach to lyrics is refreshing. Its almost like you just show up to the studio, talk, and then peace out...

Dear Mickey D's,
I have learned my lesson. No more bringing you into the movie theater. The moment I open up the bag of delicious fries, your distinctive smell rushes into the air and hovers over the crowd like the fog around Hogwarts. I feel uncomfortable eating you while people around my general area send murmurs to each other about their desire to also eat Mickey D's. Leggo my Mickey D's!

Dear Inner Child,
Your title is INNER child, not OUT IN PUBLIC child. Nobody listens to me.

Dear Mr. Conyers,
As far as middle school principals go, you were a tad unorthodox. Everyone knew your wife used to be your hooker, and we knew your "medical degree" was totally bogus... but other than those things you were an alright dude.

Dear Orlando Jones,
You are the only thing keeping me form buying tickets to The Wiz. It is hard to imagine you as the cowardly lion when all I can see is you being pelted with 7up cans from a rogue vending machine.

Dear 60 minutes,
Thank you for your segment on "Millenium Kids." It helps people like my boss understand me a little better.

Dear Loneliness,
You should give me incentive to get things done. Instead you give me incentive to do myself in.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,
SIKE!

The Whining

2009-07-21T23:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Ghetto Girls of PG county,
My only salvation from your angry fists was the ability to make jokes. I also let you play with my "white girl hair." Boy did you hate everyone else though.

Dear Greasy Face,
I can't wait until I am rich enough to have you surgically removed. In fact, I will have all of the Hispanic traits removed from my body so that I may live a long, un-greasy, tall girl kinda life. That way I will grow 'up' and not 'out.'

Dear Morning Commuter,
Looks like you enjoyed that sparks and packet of Sour Patch Kids... Breakfast of Champions!

Dear Department of Juvenile Justice,
Never judge a kid by her misdemeanors. Judge her by her piss tests!

Dear Kylie Minogue,
You are the reason I don't throw money at depression.

Dear Nostalgia Channel,
You remind me of the final shot in The Shining, where the camera slowly zooms in on a creepy party photo.

Dear Tim Curry,
My friend mistook what I said today. I said: "I used to watch Hanging With Mr. Cooper starring Mark Curry," and he heard: "I watched a combination of Martin Lawrence and Tim Curry." Then I threw up.

Dear Tim Burton,
The Nightmare Before Christmas honestly scares me. I consider it a horror film.

Dear Sentimental Side,
Of course I'm going to take you to "500 Days of Summer." Stop nagging me, you brat.

Dear Landlord,
Rent Shment.

Dear Sour Cream and Onion Chips Without Ridges,
You have no business in the snack aisle. You are a pathetic alternative because you lack personality.

Dear Bruises,
When people stare at my legs I feel there meddling concern. They don't know I got those marks from being completely ungraceful/totally lacking vertical talent.

Dear Ted Danson,
Remember when you and Whoopi were dating, and you guys thought it would be hilarious to paint you up on black face? I told you I wouldn't let you forget it... and I am a woman of my word.

Dear Denny's,
I learned more about the ups and downs of life sitting in your smoke-filled food dungeons, than I did anywhere else. I also learned a little bit about my body.

Dear Middle School Bully,
I hope you grew into those sholders, that neck, those arms, those calves. You were such a big girl!

Dear American Apperal,
You gratuitous ad campaign reads like a night straight out of a bathroom stall at (insert williamsburg bar here). They have also hindered my ability to get aroused at anything but hot orange tanks.

Dear Cody,
If they loved you just as much as anyone in the family, why did they make you live in the drive way?

Dear 1985,
I was born in you, and so was the Hulk Hogan era!

Dear MTA employee,
I argued with you for two reasons: 1. Because I found a wallet and you refused to take it to lost and found, and 2. Because I had nowhere to be for an hour.

Dear Luigi's,
There is nothing I like more than eating a slice from your oven, and watching some 90s programs on your little TV.

A disregard for grammar and "feelings"

2009-07-20T21:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Insomnia,
You first struck in High school and I thought you were a passing phase, like marvel cards, or acne. But alas, I am 24 and still you plague my nights. Back then, there was nothing substantial to wake up for, PSATs -what a joke.. But now that I am an adult, I have to be awake for most of the stuff I do during the day. At least, in high school I had late night TV to rely on to get me through those strange hours. Shows like Good Times, Elimidate, or that other dating show starring Rodger Lodge... those programs put me at ease. I no longer have TV and Rodger Lodge is probably in jail.

Dear French Language,
I am happy to know you, because today I overheard an exchange between some Parisian tourists. Had I not understood them I would have kept walking around with my skirt tucked into my undies.

Dear Freddy Krueger,
You were most likely the cure to my insomnia. At least if I fell asleep something interesting would happen. Not like before, where in the dream my 2nd grade science teacher would be teaching, but it wasn't really him, but I like, knew it was him... and we were in my uncle's boat.

Dear 7' Christmas Tree,
It was my grandfather that insisted on having you each year for Christmas. I was always afraid you would rip free from the twine that erected you and crush Santa as he lay out our gifts.

Dear Zodiac Peddlers,
How come you always now my sign? You don't follow an exact science. Honestly, I find it hard to fully respect your hobby, but I'll be damned if I'm not nurturing and moody.. very perplexed by this.

Dear Mom,
According to the "Disney World Chores Chart," you owe me 1 big ass Walt Disney World vacation extravaganza with mother fuckin' interest!

Dear Camp Wahoo,
As far as church camps go, you were a blast! I loved those little religion songs, and the bible skits (so funny!), That zip line was rad. No surprise my cabin always got the Sweepy Bird plaque for tidiest cabin.

Dear Williamsburg,
When you ask for "Coffee" do not expect it to automatically come iced.

Dear Cast of "The Hills,"
Something about your vapidity keeps me enraptured with your goings on. Keep doing whatever it is you think you are "doing" (but looks to us like nothing). Keep going out to eat around Hollywood.

Dear Happy Couple,
I'm not one of those people who gets mad at you for showing your affection. I just don't like people, and when two combine it really gets my goat!

Dear see-through tank top,
I knew I had no bra at home when I purchased you. You are the new clothes, to my emperor.

Dear Patrick McGoohan,
That was one kick-ass island.

Dear Sports Bar Job,
You were just awful. But hey, who says "NO" to unlimited soda, chips, fries, and ass slaps??

Dear Micro-Manager,
If my attitude has led you to believe that I like the way you hover over me while I work, maybe I'm not expressing it right. Any tips?

Dear Rosa: Age 8,
Hanging out in graveyards isn't creepy at all! Going on adventures to abandoned houses isn't dangerous at all! Burning down your grandma's bathroom isn't a red flag at all!

Dear Residents of Apt 2R in my Last Building,
If there was an event in the olympics for domestic violence, you would be gold medalists!

Dear Final Destination,
cc: Fast and Furious
No matter what anyone says, you are not a sad excuse for a second attempt at a sad excuse for a movie.

Dear Very First Shitty Job,
That would be the first of 15 times a grandparent would get "terminally ill, and need me by her side."

Dear Home-Haircut,
You are all spicy and new today... and all Edward Scissorhands tomorrow.

Dear Burt and Ernie,
What's the rent where you live?

Dear Dunkin Donut Walk-up Window Dude,
The day I want 6 donuts for 3 dollars, is the same day I punch myself in the face 6 times and punch you and two co-workers in the face. I'm sorry to get harsh on you... But you are so agressive! Despite the "deal" at hand, it is NOT in my best interest to exceed my daily intake of calories on donuts.

Gain some insight

2009-07-19T22:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom,
I finally understand your thing with red wine. I too have a few glasses before bed nowadays. I didn't even need to have two kids and raise them alone. What can I say, I guess I'm advanced. You think now I'll understand your thing for always being late? I hope so!

Dear Brother,
Remember when we used to chase each other around, and I would throw a chair behind me while you would be charging at me at top speed? You really got hurt a couple times! Serves you right, I'd do it again.

Dear Sotomayor,
Has anyone ever told you that you bear quite the resemblance to one Roseanne Barr?
It might work in your favor, I'd play it up. Perhaps you should purchase a chicken/egg tee shirt off of eBay?

Dear Former employer,
Let's be honest, you knew I was a bullshitter. And I know you are better off without me! I genuinely thought my job requirements were to complain and eat croissants. By the way- really awesome croissants! Just the perfect amount of flaky and buttery, yum! Ps: did I leave my sunglasses there?

Dear Mrs. Lowery,
You taught English at my elementary school. I know, you know that I know, you know I gave the same book report on Clara Barton 4 times.
1. I'm sorry, that must have been painful
2. You lazy!
3. How come I got the "Best Report Button" on the third go around?
4. I always wanted to know... were you like the "hot teacher" among all the teachers?

Dear 11 year old Rosa,
I am proud of your fascination with "Beetleborgs"

Dear 12 year old Rosa,
Way to go with those childhood scams! You li'l entrepreneur!

Dear Apathy,
So like, are you here to say? or... what?

Dear Puerto Rican guy outside my window,
Although I enjoy you 'hollerin'' at me whenever I leave my apartment, IT IS 1:52 AM and I am NOT in the mood to hear your A Capella rendition of "Blame it on the Alcohol" -whether it be the theme song for your inception, or not. By the way, do you like Scarface?

Dear Moon,
Please refill me with negative ions.

Dear body,
ALKALIZE!

Dear L train,
Thank you for braking down, you gave me an excuse to kiss a boy. Your shuttle alternative is much more reliable. You were put here to destroy my patience.

Dear weird rash on my knee,
It is apparent to me now, that you have no intention of clearing up. I will take the advice of many and get you "looked at" and perhaps put some cream on you. You fucking win. It was a good, long, ignorant stance I put up... At least give me that.

Dear former roomates from 2006,
How do I put this delicately? See ya; wouldn't want to be ya. Oh yea, and if you find my chocolate box time capsule, I want my swim team medallion!

Dear Ringo,
You're alright man, you're alright. Like a machine you are very precise.

Dear Brother,
I thought of you the other day while listening to Sonic Youth. I was remembering the time when I snuck out of the house, you caught me, then made me give you my Thousand Leaves poster in exchange for your secrecy. I gave it to you, and you told mom anyway, aha! Do not be surprised, one day I will have my revenge. This is one window of blackmail and deceit from which you can not sneak out.

Dear date last Thursday,
Pretty good. Pretty, pretty, good.. Although duck is a little too duck- y for me. And I am not a liar. And I do have a job.

Dear Dad,
Thank you for giving me the gift of joke making. Also thanks for the height thing, I never wanted to be taken seriously anyway.

Dear Smut,
I love everything about you that hurts.

Dear Facebook,
You are a useful tool for connecting me with people from the third grade that I had little in common with, and still have very little in common with.

Dear Greenbelt, MD,
I love re-visiting you and seeing how pregnant you are!

Dear Kelly Bundy,
Your style has resurfaced, it lives in Brooklyn.