(But I will. Even though I haven't even sent these letters out yet, from 4 years ago.)
Dear International Olympic Committee,
Can you please explain to me why ice dancing is considered an Olympic sport? It's like the "rhythmic gymnastics" of the winter games. And how did the phenomenon referred to as "curling" come about? Because it seems as if it was thought up by three crackheads sitting on a dirty pond in Norway. By the way, good job on the "men's double luge" event. It should tide me over until Brokeback Mountain comes out on DVD.
Dear Kentucky Fried Chicken,
You have some fucking nerve, charging me $16 for EIGHT pieces of extra crispy chicken, one large order of mashed potatoes, one large coleslaw and four biscuits. First of all, those two wings should only count as one piece. Even with all the genetic engineering you do on your painfully tasty "chickens." Second of all, for SIXTEEN DOLLARS this meal should not only satisfy my hunger, it should also vacuum my living room, scrub my toilet, water my plants, grow me a penis, get on its knees and blow me. Also, bring back "Chicken Littles" for 49 cents because those tiny little sandwiches rocked.
Dear PSE&G,
Despite the fact that I've kept my house temperature at 58 degrees and wrapped everyone in it in fleece, my monthly energy bill is still high enough to qualify as rent for a one-bedroom apartment in Newark. My point is, I fucking hate you. I hate you and I hope you die.
Dear Chinese people,
Please stop with the myth that CHICKEN FEET SOUP helps sick people heal. Because my Chinese grandmother just sent me to the store for some and I literally gagged in the poultry section. I stood there, gazing at the packaged chicken feet in silent horror and thanked God that I hadn't eaten anything in the last few hours. At the very least, could you at least remove the fricken claws?? When I put them in the freezer, one touched me. It was not pleasant.
Nasty. I guess it cures you by making you vomit up
everything in your body, good and bad.
Dear Academy of Television Arts and Sciences,
Isn't it about time you gave Kiefer Sutherland an Emmy for his role as Jack Bauer? I don't know what drug you're all collectively smoking, but put the pipe down and back slowly away from it. Then walk over to your fucking ballots and check the vote box next to his name. It's as if you people haven't watched a minute of television in the last few years. James Spader deserved to win over him about as much as President Bush deserves a Nobel Peace Prize. Good job on Tony Shalhoub though. So you're not complete fuck-ups.
Dear chick at my sister's friend's party,
My sister wasn't hitting on you, she's just a friendly drunk. Get over yourself. You ain't even that cute.
Dear McDonald's,
Thank you so much for the existence of the McGriddle. You had me at the "two griddle cakes with the taste of maple syrup baked right in." The hash browns, eggs, cheese and bacon are like unexpected Christmas presents from unknown relatives. Please don't listen to those weird granola people, keep making food like this. P.S. - This letter is from me, as in my brain and taste buds, not me as in my arteries and waist.
Dear the Black Eyed Peas,
"My Humps" is a horrible, horrible song. When I hear it, it's like someone's burying me alive in rodent fecal matter.
Dear Mayor of Jersey City,
Thank you for letting the potholes in our city stay so big. Every so often I fill one up with water and bathe in it. Other times, me and all my friends will hide out in one, cover it up with cardboard and pretend it's a fort. Also, considering the crime in Jersey City, why are so many of our cops overweight? Because it seems to me that if they were to physically chase down all our many car thieves and drug dealers then the aerobic workout resulting from the chase would... oh. Never mind, just figured it out.
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