Friday, May 15, 2009

Dear Crazy People:

Gee....just when I got done writing about how you should be careful what you say to people in a letter...I just spent my entire morning, spewing in disgust**
Dear Middle School Choir Director,
Really?  REALLY?  You REALLY think that "Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man After Midnight)" is an appropriate song for 9th grade girls to sing in front of people?
And it's not that I find the song offensive....its just that....REALLY???
I don't know about your kids, but my 9th grader goes to bed around 10.  And I won't reveal any info about her love life, but I am fairly certain that it doesn't involve inviting someone over for a booty call after her mommy has gone to sleep.  Of course, I could be wrong about that, since mothers are the last to know, but, Oh Fuck, I am NOT wrong about that--she's a KID! 
She's a kid, and you, my dear choir director, are insane.  If the effect you were looking for was to have an entire auditorium full of moms, dads, grandma's and grandpa's CRINGING, then this is definitely the one for the children to perform.  Go ahead and have them sing it, just for kicks--let's see if I'm right.  Of course, if you're going for the full effect, you could dress them up in Catholic School Girl uniforms and have them do a Britney Spears number.  Don't worry, there's always next year.
I'm Not Old-Fashioned, But DAMN!
Dear Insurance Company,
Oh Dear Gawd I cannot BELIEVE that I am writing to you!'re killing me!
Do you know that there is nothing in this world that is more crazy-making than looking at an explanation of benefits and seeing nothing but ZERO's in the column where it tells how much YOU, the insurance company, paid on a medical claim? 
Nothing?  You paid NOTHING?  I pay you $400 a month, you pay NOTHING?  Are you serious?  You're so fired.
Out of a three THOUSAND dollar medical bill, my responsibility is....THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS? 
It's a damn good thing I'm incredibly well-versed in both insurance AND the perfectly crafted "fuck you".  Yours is coming.  Don't worry, I made several copies, just to make sure that everybody gets one.  The actual "fuck you" part is only 5 pages long, but the accompanying documentation has forced me to buy additional postage.  Thanks for playin', assholes...
Never Get Sick
(No Really, Don't Do It...)
**Letters shown here have been modified for your enjoyment and were not actually sent to anyone.  Though actual letters have been sent to people, those letters were much less incredulous, contained no profanity, all-caps, or exclamation points, and have a 99.9% chance of producing the desired results.  Trust me, I have an amazing track record in these things.  Stay tuned for updates!


  1. Well crafted letters, indeed. I had to laugh especially hard at the Gimme Gimme Gimme thing because my kids love Mama Mia and my son was particularly fond of singing that song. Thankfully, he doesn't sing it for huge groups of people though.

  2. The worst part about having to write a letter (email, actually) to the principal of the school is that I ended up having that song stuck in my head all weekend. On Sunday afternoon, Punky watched Mama Mia and I finally got "Gimme" out of my head, only to have it replaced by some other ABBA song...
    (not dissing ABBA, because obviously they had an uncanny knack for recording hit songs, but it took some rather intensively loud Franz Ferdinand on the commute to knock the ABBA library out of my cranium this morning.)


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