Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Letters To The Reader

Dear stray cat,

Sure, my girlfriend fed you once, but that doesn’t give you license to shit in my recycling bin and leave dead lizards at my doorstep. You’ve got to earn my tolerance for behavior like that, dude. So, either man up and suffer my clumsy attempts to pet you or shove off for the supermarket dumpster.

Columbia City Paper  



Dear sports mascot brawl,
This mascot brawl, admittedly, was funny and quaint at first. I mean, who wouldn’t want to see a smiling eagle in a letterman sweater drop kick a giant dancing gopher? But now I kinda wish the gopher would just stay down so the eagle can strut back over to the sideline and get back on that cool little trampoline. And come on, guys, those T-shirt cannons aren’t going to fire themselves. If this mascot brawl continues I may have to complain to your cheerleading coaches. And, mark my words: if you don’t redeem yourselves by doing some tricks in that miniature fire truck, you’ll be working the matinee at Chuck E. Cheese by halftime.
Columbia City Paper

Dear hay fever,
This pollen is hell on the complexion, not to mention the red nose and watery eyes. Thank goodness everyone at work and on the street is tolerant of this 24-hour allergy mask. Otherwise, I’d look like a freak.
Columbia City Paper

Dear drunk vote,
Sick of that sinking feeling you get when you realize you’re out of beer on a Saturday night at 11:48, followed by the inevitable split-second decision: Do you go without for the big game on Sunday or do you throw on some unlaced work shoes, no socks, and race to Kroger in your boxer shorts? Look, you don’t know Belinda Gergel from Bette Midler and couldn’t care less about the city council race. Who cares? There are more important issues afoot... and this is our time to shine!
    So set your alarms for 2 p.m. on April 1, pop a couple of aspirin, stagger to your nearest polling station, and vote away the blue laws. And someday when your grandchildren look back on this fateful election while filling their little carts with Southpaw after church on Sunday, they’ll say, (sniffle) “Now they truly were the greatest generation...”
Columbia City Paper
 

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