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April 1st, 2006
Hey lady, I can see you.
Even though you’re hiding in your car in the supermarket parking lot, where you thought you probably wouldn’t be seen — you probably didn’t expect that I was going to be sitting in my parked car right across from you, talking on my cell phone and waiting for the rain to subside before getting out. You probably didn’t expect that I’d be sitting here, watching you, as you scarfed down a huge vat of what some people call Supermarket Deli Clam Chowder in a Vat.
And I wish you’d use a napkin.
Posted under Cars, Food and Drink, Manners, Open Letter. | 15 Comments »
March 2nd, 2006

You think you know what you’re doing, but you don’t.
Standing there, in between the misting machines and the POM juice. Around the corner from the cherry tomatoes and the fresh onions. Down the aisle from the cheese and the hummus and the yogurt. Just a hop, skip and a jump from the portable pharmacy at the front of the store…
You squeeze the fruit relentlessly, with no end in sight.
Every time I go to the store, you’re there. I’m not quite sure if you’ve rigged some kind of high-tech notification device that lets you know when I’m on my way — but every time I walk in the electronic door I see you there. Either in front of the oranges, hanging out by the apples or lovingly evaluating your family of cantaloupes.
Posted under Fruit-Squeezers, Open Letter. | 17 Comments »
November 15th, 2005
Dude, Pauly. Let me just give you some props before I get all hatin’ on you.
You’re a good guy. I know this. I like hangin’ out with you, although you often don’t give me my own personal space. Still, it’s not like you’re ever all, “Dude, you’re staying home tonight and I’m going to go out and party” or anything like that. You always bring me along for the ride and, you know, that rocks. We’re thick like thieves, bruddah.
But why do you gotta keep smashing me in the head?
Posted under Body Parts, Open Letter. | 22 Comments »
July 30th, 2005

Yes, you are the master.
You are able to tweak the fonts and change the tape and make any folder label fit in the manilla file folder window. You are the expert in the office when it comes to teaching people how to use those “hidden” characters on the keyboard. Sure, you make it sound easy with the “press this ALT key and then the hidden character in a faint shade of blue” thing, but you secretly make it sound so confusing in the hopes that people will come back again for more.
Posted under Open Letter. | 8 Comments »
May 24th, 2004
Dear You:
You know who you are and you know why I’m posting this here on my blog. You know that had we both been able to be adults, that we both might have found a fair solution that would have kept me from doing this. But as you always have to be you, that was not a possible pathway to take.
First I want to address the incident that happened at the make-up counter in Nordstroms. You have always known from the day you met me that I do not take kindly to being dragged to those places, let alone being forced to be an arm-tester for mascara. I do not care if “stripes of mascara on my arm look like Indian markings,” they make me uncomfortable and unhappy. You should have been aware of this fact before you forced me into that chair with Beatrice at the helm. For this, I am still angry.
Posted under Open Letter. | 9 Comments »
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