Friday, April 03, 2009
Bitching so you don't have to.
To the teeth, from the lips: Please stop biting me repeatedly in the same exact area so that I am unable to heal. I know that I am delicious and meaty, but I am not actually meat. Thank you.
To your windshield, from my windshield: I understand you are filthy, and I am filthy, too. Yesterday at lunch my idiotic owner parked next to someone who ran over a cup of coffee, which squirted all over me. So believe me, I understand filthiness. But please do not squirt and wipe yourself on the freeway while driving 65 mph, when I am behind you. You fucking douchebag.
To coins, from the wallet: Pardon me, but you are too numerous. I've been carrying you around in my meager coin-holding area, waiting for my owner to empty you into the fishbowl on her dresser so that you may eventually be taken to the Coinstar machine and exchanged for an Amazon.com certificate. Because you are useless. Do you understand that? She finds you utterly useless. She is not one of those annoying people who forces others waiting in line to wait for her while she counts out correct change. She finds the activity heinous and deserving of a Singapore-style caning. The only thing worse is writing goddamn checks at the grocery store. Anyway, coins, you've finally busted me. She was given more of you, she attempted to shove you into my meager pouch and zip it closed, and you broke my zipper. I am beyond repair and now destined for the trash once I get replaced. Thanks a lot. Have fun jingling around on the bottom of the purse.
To tumors, from everyone: Fuck off.
To episiotomies, from vaginas: You suck.
To people who pronounce the word "drowning" "drownding," from journalists: Do you also pronounce nuclear "nucular"? Do you enjoy reading books in the "liberry"? While drinking "expresso"? You are annoying.
To the public, from newspapers: We are dying. Do you understand? You are about to become extremely uninformed. It was bad before. There was no way we could tell you everything that was going on; there weren't enough underpaid reporters to write about it all. If we die, you may be left with TV, radio, and the Internet. We think this is dangerous. Just sayin'.
To people who repeat themselves incessantly, from the rest of us: Stop it.