Saturday, July 29, 2006


To the guy in the white van who almost hit me running a red light in front of Dominick's on Division Street yesterday around 12:30pm:

Hey guy. Look, we all make mistakes driving. It just happens, and in the best of situations nothing comes of it. But here's the deal: There's making mistakes and then there's blazing through a red line two seconds after it had turned. The usual, big city, pause-a-two-seconds before going through a green light you probably would have hit me, hard. Matthew Sweet's 100% Fun could have been the last album I ever heard, and I like that one just fine, but I'd rather go out listening to Astral Weeks or Pet Sounds or something. Thing is, this the second time this happened to me in about a week, and all within a three-block radius. (CD at the time: Rattlesnakes, by Lloyd Cole and the Commotions.) I'm a pretty calm guy, by and large, but I spent the rest of the day wanting to find you and smash in your headlights. You're a dick. There I said it.


To Oliver Stone:

Hey Oliver, I just saw your movie World Trade Center. Look. I'm not going to mince words. I didn't like it so much. Thanks for not making some kooky, conspiracy theory-laden left-wing nutpiece. But did you have to make a glorified TV movie? I mean, seriously, remove the 9/11 framework and Nicolas Cage and you've got a my-husband-is-stuck-in-a-coal mine movie starring, I don't know, Beau Bridges or something. Boo.


To the MySpace users "Carrie," "Melissa," and "Christy" who recently invited me to be their friend:

Carrie and Melissa: So you were just browsing around, saw my profile and thought I looked cool, eh? It's funny, you two gals have really similar histories. In fact, you have word-for-word similar histories. I guess it is true that guys think it would be cool to date strippers then they get all jealous and that you need someone who's fun and laid back. Oh, and what's that? You've got a webcam I can link to? Um, no thanks. I'm a happily married man, as they say, and even if I weren't I don't think we'd be "friends."

"Christy," you get some points for having a different profile, much less polished-sounding profile. But I still wouldn't be interested, even if you didn't look like a total skank.

Keep on dancing,

To the five MySpace members who rated my image in MySpace's hot-or-not-like image-ranking area that I don't remamber submitting my image to for evaluation in the first place:

5.7? Really. I thought I looked a little better in that picture. But thanks for helping me stay proudly above average!

I don't like the way you look either,

Technorati tags: , , ,, ,

1 comment:

Scott said...

That's hysterical...however, be glad you don't have to deal with Facebook. I got onto it just to get more contact info for people I worked with at the college paper, and now I get people I don't like friending me AND hitting me up with "friend detail requests." I do have some friends who I know to be obsessive compulsive, so I let it slide with them. But past acquaintences who think I should take valuable seconds to help them keep track of exactly *how* they know me? Not my Facebook friends anymore.

I actually had a road-rage open letter of my own a while back. I may have gone overboard: