Tag Archives: letters that will never be answered

No writing errors were found, bitches! Ha-HA!

Dear Blog,

Hey.

So…how’ve you been?

I’ve been good. Busy. Writing stuff, doing stuff, watching stuff. Playing stuff. You know. The usual.

So listen. I know we’ve sort of…grown apart lately. Maybe we needed some space. I’m totally cool with that, and I hope you are too. But I wanted to let you know that I’ll always be here for you, just like I know you’ll always be here for me.

So, I guess, let’s catch up.

First, I’ve been going to the gym. Well, okay, that’s an exaggeration. I got a gym membership and went for a couple of weeks, but lately…not so much. And I really need to go because if I’m going to someday convince Edgar Wright to become my mistress, I’ll have to be really hot.

Also, Adam and I got a Wii. And new Super Mario Bros. And we finished it. So that’s done.

You know what I was thinking about the other day? I was thinking about my dream house. And all those crazy things you always want for your dream house when you’re a kid? Yeah, I still want those. I want a room where the ceiling and all the walls are padded and the floor is a trampoline. I want a giant tree house as a guest cottage. I want the apartment that Tom Hanks had in Big (not the one with the murders happening outside). And you know what else? I want a room just like Jeannie’s bottle in I Dream of Jeannie. Round, with a couch lining the wall and pillows everywhere. And no door. You have to enter from the ceiling or a trap door in the floor. I would spend all day in there. My trampoline floor room would be tragically unused. (Okay, not really. I’d divide my time equally.)

Hmm, what else?

Oh! We finally got our fridge! It’s amazing. There’s room for everything. And it’s mostly empty right now. So, it’s good that we upgraded.

So that’s what’s going on with me.¬†What have you been up to lately? How’s life? Did you go to the doctor for that thing?

In closing, I’d just like to say that there is nothing better on earth than Mexican hot chocolate (not a euphemism).

Talk to you soon (I hope).

Yours truly,

Empress Lindsay

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An open letter to all the DJs in America

Dear DJs,

When you play Nickelback during rush hour, you endanger lives.

Stay with me here, because this is important.

Imagine for a second that you have a real job. You go in at 8:00 am and leave at 5:00 pm. You deal with annoying coworkers and bosses and spreadsheets all day. You’re tired. Maybe a little frustrated. Hungry. But now it’s over, and you get to go home. Hooray!

But wait. First you have to sit in traffic for at least half an hour. That’s if it’s not raining, there are no accidents, and some idiot hasn’t decided to threaten suicide from an overpass.

People cut you off, give you the finger, don’t let you in. So you turn on the radio to get your mind off the traffic.

And Nickelback comes on.

How do you think that feels, DJs? Huh?

I can tell you from experience. It sucks. It sucks almost as much as Nickelback itself.

Road rage is a problem. Sure, it doesn’t get as much press as it did in the ’90s. But it’s still an issue. Have you never seen Falling Down? There’s a guy out there right now,¬†teetering on the edge. Do you really want to be the one to nudge him over it?

It seems like DJs are the last people left on earth who still haven’t realized that Nickelback sucks. You are occupying the stupid end of the bell curve. I shouldn’t have to suffer because you are an exceptionally slow learner. If you must play Nickelback (and apparently you must), play it in the middle of the night when no one is listening.

Thank you for your attention to this matter. I look forward to never hearing Nickelback during rush hour again.

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