Category

posts in the form of letters

Winter Blues

By | posts in the form of letters, weather | One Comment

Dear whoever-the-f-controls-weather-around-here,

Um, hello? Ever heard the phrase, “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb?” Apparently not. Not sure what calendar you’re using, but tomorrow is April. Get your shit together and make it sunny and warm. I’m serious.

Don’t make me flash mob you because I will. I know for a fact that I could probably assemble at least three or four people who would dance in the streets for a ray of sunshine and a warm breeze.

Got it?

Okay, then. Let’s have some springtime.

~L

This crazy trip has got me feelin’: chilly
And I’m singin’ along to: World on Fire – Sarah McLachlan

A Letter to the Governor of Pennsylvania

By | breaking news, drama, extreme sports, games, hazards to my well-being, new jersey, political views, posts in the form of letters, top notch communication blunders, weather, you might learn something | 4 Comments

Dear Governor Ed Rendell,

You’re an idiot. Was it just that you had nothing else you could possibly do other than watch football on Sunday night? Sounds like you’ve scaled your social life to about the same level as my neighbor who rifles through trash bags on Tuesday afternoons.

As an elected public official, I would think that the safety of the general public would at least cross your mind before you start calling your country a “nation of wusses” and comparing us to the Chinese, who, according to you, can march to football games in blizzard conditions while doing calculus. (Note: Marching because if they can concentrate on sports and calculus at the same time, then I’m assuming they’re smart enough not to drive in white-out conditions.)

The thing is, Ed, we’re not a nation of wusses. We’re a nation of fearless, bumbling morons in pickup trucks who like to drink beer, go shirtless in the freezing cold for football, and drive in f-ing blizzards. So, people like the mature, intelligent mayor of Philadelphia are forced to make unpopular decisions because if given the choice between staying home or driving to a game in the snow, nine times out of ten the “fans’ choice” (as you put it) would be the wrong one. And by getting on the road in a blizzard, those fans would be putting everyone else in danger.

Granted, a majority of the snow didn’t fall in Philadelphia (only a foot!), but everywhere east of there was pretty much pummeled. The Eagles are cool enough to have fans in New York and New Jersey, right? Or maybe even Delaware? There’s nothing going on in that state, so you’ve got to have some fans down there.

My point is this. One of the contributing factors to the lack of plowing going on around here is that there are abandoned cars blocking all of the major roadways. Plows, ambulances, fire trucks, emergency vehicles have been unable to navigate their way to where they need to be for going on 48 hours now, but people are still getting in their cars to drive around, and people are still getting stuck in some places. Do you see the problem?

Think before you talk, Governor. If the mayor of Philadelphia was able to keep even 5,000 measly people off the road on Sunday night, he did the right thing.

To the Eagles and their fans, I’m sorry that Tuesday’s game was a disappointment and you lost, but seriously? I don’t think you wanted to play/attend that game in that snow either. Right?

Anyway, to sum things up, I’m pretty much glad I don’t live in Pennsylvania because I’d be super embarrassed to have my state name associated with yours these last few days. (Also because you have no beach there.) Maybe you should drive your car out onto the PA Turnpike, pull over onto the shoulder, and sit in it for two days. Then you might understand the importance of not driving in snow. (And also how crappy that dumb road is.)

Good luck recovering from this fumble.

Idly,
A snowed in former resident of your neighboring state of New Jersey whose dad and brother spent 7.5 hours stuck on the side of the road in a car trying to get home from the NJ Devils game, which also should have been cancelled

P.S. In China, football is soccer, and it’s so poisoned with corruption, they’ve actually had to kick off a campaign to set it straight.

Kiss my trash.

By | condo, hazards to my well-being, not ruling at life, posts in the form of letters, roommates, top notch communication blunders | One Comment

Dear neighbor who had the audacity to leave a note written on a piece of trash in my door handle,

If you have enough spare time on your hands to rifle through my trash, let me offer you some advice. Get a life. Or a job. Or at least some sort of hobby that will fill the void in your life and make you realize that there are much more rewarding ways to spend an afternoon. I understand that the condo rules prohibit trash from being put out on the curb on days other than Tuesday and Friday. Thanks for reminding me of that with your impeccable handwriting on the back of a crumpled up envelope. You know what I think the condo rules should also prohibit? Your busybody neighbors leaving shit on your door.

I take it you didn’t rummage through the bag deep enough to find anything with my roommate’s name on it. He’s the one who left the trash outside anyway. I’m not home enough to even produce any trash, much less drag it downstairs and leave it outside on the wrong day. To be honest, you’re lucky I even saw the note. If you have a complaint, call up that useless association president, and have him fine me, you idiot. You know what I’m going to do now? I’m going to shred all evidence of my address and keep letting my roommate leave the trash outside.

Speaking of idiots…

Dear condo association,

I think the presence of debris in the form of siding and roof shingles in our parking lot is a pretty clear indication that you need to redo that shit. And can someone please tell me why there is a fucking satellite dish on the ground near the stairs of my building? What  the hell do I pay you for? There’s a freaking water meter leaking into the damn parking lot again.

Dear future real estate appraiser,

I’m embarrassed that you’ll be faced with putting a dollar value on this. Good f-ing luck.

Dear mortgage company,

I thought you were going to call me back! This is so not worth it. Do you see what I’m dealing with? Why am I paying you interest on this crap?

Vengefully yours,
Lisa

This crazy trip has got me feelin’: aggravated
And I’m singin’ along to: The Catalyst – Linkin Park