Open Letter to neighbor:

To my well meaning neighbor around the corner, stop sending me bloody email directing me to the golf website! Yes, I know you love Mizuno golf clubs, but no, I ain’t spending all my hard earned money on them.

I have no interest in wearing the flat cap, plus-fours and checkered socks and walking the fairways whacking a golf ball all over God’s green frickin’ creation.¹

You keep telling me how wonderful golf is and how much fun it is and how good it is to spend a day on the back nine. Dude, we live in Seattle, we hardly know what the sun looks like, I don’t consider it fun walking in the cold, more than likely wet outdoors trying to find my bloody ball in the rough.

Golf doesn’t and never has held any fascination to me, I just don’t get excited at the prospect of screwing my shoulders up trying to hit the ball down the fairway.

Also, I tend not to want to come around to your house much because I don’t want to sit in your den for hours on end watching golf on the TV. I know you’re just trying to be neighborly but I don’t like golf. How many other ways can I say that before it sinks in.

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Technorati Tags: golf, golfing, I hate golf, open letter

1. Okay, I wouldn’t have to really wear the golfing outfit, but that is the image I conjure up when I see myself on the green! [↩]

To the girl on the bus, dang girl, when you use the phone, if the person on the other ends isn’t answering, you don’t need to sit there screaming “Hello,” repeatedly. It is bloody annoying and I have to resist the urge to rip the phone out of your hand and throw the thing out the window.

When I got home Carolyn was surfing and looking at a web site on the Stratosphere Las Vegas, hotel. We are certainly looking at Las Vegas as a vacation destination for our wedding anniversary. We have been to Reno but never Vegas, we aren’t really into casinos, no let me amend that, I’m not. I find them annoying after a short while, I might drop a couple of dollars on slots is all, Carolyn likes the penny slots and usually does okay and wins back more than she puts in them.

I certainly would want to catch a few shows, especially magic shows. We may also renew our wedding vows, Carolyn like a Knight and Maiden theme whereas I’m all for Elvis doing the ceremony, we’ll see as we are still trying to make up our minds.

I like Extreme Sour Warheads hard candy, although I only like the blue and green ones. What do they put in those things that makes them so addictive? You just have to keep eating them until the roof of your mouth and your tongue is sore, or is that just me?

Technorati Tags: on the bus, Las Vegas, Warheads

Hey Mom, no, not mine, some other Mom I saw on the street outside a store.

Kid first, groceries second!

She was putting bags into her car and had a young toddler running around. Me, I would’ve put the kid in the car then dealt with the bags, no she had to get her groceries and shit away before worrying about the kid.

The young girl was running in and out from the car in the parking lot, she and her Mom totally oblivious to the other cars. The toddler doesn’t know any better but the Mom did. Made me angry to see that she didn’t seem bothered her kid could easily run in front of a car and get hurt or worse.

Then when Mom decides to finally think about putting the kid into her car seat she starts yelling. The kid is running around having fun teasing Mom, but Mom is now cussing up a storm calling her kid all manner of names to try and get her to behave.

Finally the girl climbs in the car laughing and her Mom calls her a “little fucker” as she gets in. She saw me shaking my head and gave me a “What?” look.

“When your kid starts calling you names like that are you going to realize she learnt them from your foul mouth or will you smack it out of her?”

She seemed taken aback I had spoken to her and I was surprised at myself for actually saying something rather than walk off shaking my head as I am wont to do. I expected a tirade from the Mom but I think she had suddenly stopped to think what she was doing. She genuinely seemed put out and sputtered a sorry to me.

“Don’t apologize to me, try saying sorry to the kid and being more aware of her. She could’ve been hit by a car while you were messing with your bags.”

She climbed into her car slammed the door and I saw her saying something to her child over the seat. Maybe she learnt a lesson and I felt good, my good deed for the day. Sometimes it pays to speak up even if you feel you might get cussed at in return.

Open Letter:

To dude on front of bus, you have the most annoying loud ringtone I have ever heard. I assume the phone or ringtone is new to you because when your cell phone goes off it takes you up to ten seconds to respond and answer your phone.

Now if you or the person on the other end of the phone is hard of hearing you are excused, if not, then dude why so loud? Modern phone technology means you can almost whisper into your cell phone and the other person will hear you just fine.

I do hope the person you were bellowing at finally got the notion about bus timetables. That when you get to a bus stop five minutes after the bus is scheduled to leave that stop you more than likely missed it.

Anyway dude, kneel, I shall dub thee; Annoying Loud Ringtone Guy.

Open letter to two people while I was waiting for bus after doing some errands yesterday:

To woman sitting on bench:

No matter how you rub your hand over your face it is obvious to anyone who looks in your direction that you have a finger making deep probes into a nostril. Why bother trying to surreptitiously pick your nose when you then just sit there and examine the sticky mess adhered to your fingertip, ughhhh.
To man next to me talking a mile a minute to me:

Dude, I have an iPod in the front pocket on my wind breaker, the ear buds are firmly stuck in my ears and I am bopping away to Red Hot Chili Peppers loud. Even while you are talking away at me getting louder and louder I pull out the iPod and make a show of turning it up even louder.

I cannot hear you and your conspiracy theories you always go on about every time you are at the bus stop.

Why I let crap like this annoy me I’ll never know, I am easily pleased and also I guess easily annoyed.

Dude at bus stop:

You and your wife catch the same bus every evening at the same time give or take a minute each side of the scheduled arrival time. Yet you keep standing in the middle of the road to see if you can spot the bus, it is like five minutes before it is due.

Are you worried the bus driver will take a side street and bypass your stop just to piss you off? Or are you using some Jedi mind trick to try and get the bus to arrive ahead of schedule?

One day some ejjit will speed down the road and plough you down.

While I am at it, same dude, I don’t know what you always have a mouth full of, chewing, it isn’t tobacco but whatever it is it produces large quantities of spittle. How do we know? Because you gob it out on the sidewalk right next to you. Dude, flob it in the road not where people might step in it. Worse, someone may walk past as you gob and get your junk on them.

If that happens to me, you’ll be spitting bloody teeth out!

Okay, whooo saaaaa

This is an open letter to a guy I work with. Dude when you have finished using the urinal or especially the stall, wash your bloody hands before you leave the restroom.

Every door handle between the restroom and our break room has your manky hand germs all over them!

I have told him several times but it goes in one ear and out the other. Thankfully I am the sort who washes his hands before eating, nasty bugger.

To the guy walking in front of me this morning:

Dude, before you leave the house of a morning grab some tissue and blow your nose.  Plugging one nostril up then snorting the contents of the other into the street several times is gross. One wind change and the snot is going to stick to you, ugh.

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To the women at the front of the bus:

Firstly lady, just because the first bus broke down and you along with everyone else had to catch the second bus, doesn’t mean you should bitch at the driver, it isn’t his fault.

Secondly, huffing and puffing because no one is standing up to give you their seat, stfu already. We are packed in like sardines, standing room only. No one can hardly move let alone let your moaning arse sit down.

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To the panhandler:

Man, walking past me every few seconds and asking if I have any spare change won’t work. I told you the first time I had no change to give you. Either you have bad short term memory or you think repeatedly harassing someone will make them pay you to fuck off.

If I suddenly realized I did have change, you behavior means I wouldn’t give it you.