Archive | November, 2010

Dear Airport Toilet Stalls

29 Nov

Dear Airport Toilet Stalls,

How hard is it to figure out that when you’re trying to cram luggage into a tiny little stall along with your body— a stall which must close if you don’t want to get arrested for indecent exposure– THAT THE DOOR SHOULD SWING OUTWARD not inward?

Is that too much to ask?  It is?  Oh.  Ok.  All right, then.  Never mind.

Hey, look!  Airport procedures: you’ve successfully demoralized me into accepting any humiliating and inconvenient process without protestation.  When do the random executions start?  What about the return of feudal overlords?  I’d like to grow potatoes, not turnips, please.


But in exchange, I really just want to be able to close the door when I pee.




hey guys

24 Nov

this is an experiment.  look, we’re doing some construction over here, ok?  quit looking at our underthings.  you all are a bunch of voyeurs.  creeps.  go home.  get off the internet.  spend the holiday with your family.  your real family, not your internet family.

Guest Letter: Dear Bananas in Plastic Bags

23 Nov

GUEST LETTER TODAY!  FROM JESSE!  Ok, guys, real deal, I love this guest letter business.  It’s good for the soul (and my vague symptoms of carpal tunnel– is your right hand supposed to spontaneously burst into flames?).  If you have a guest letter you’d like to write, email dearmrpostman [at] gmail [dot] com.  I promise not to edit your letter to change your original intent….just to, you know, fix grammar and typos and add funny links of cats dancing and sweet YouTube videos, and make your writing not lame.  I mean hahaha I don’t do that you all are perfect you’re all Bill Murray and Steve Martin’s lovechild!

Go Jesse tell us some things!

Dear Bananas in Plastic Bags,

How does it feel… all that plastic suffocating you, keeping you from touching anything in the outside world.  Do you feel safe, Bananas?  It is a very dirty world out there… and by dirty, I mean, Bacteria and Viruses EVERYWHERE!!!

Haven’t you seen one of those commercials for a spray product promising to kill 95% of bacteria and viruses on your telephone and door knob and your child’s hands… you know the one where they show the close up of all the movie-grade CGI bacteria everywhere on everything?!? Gross!

Anyways, Bananas, you are now safe! That nice pathophobic lady, with the anti-bacteria spray on her key chain, covered you up and kept you safe for your long difficult journey from basket to checker stand to the other plastic bag to your new home.

I know, I know, you thought you were already safe.  I’m sure as a banana, you thought, “I’m perfect!  I’m sweet and delicious and I come with this easy to open all natural packaging called a banana peel.”  And you may have been right years ago, but we live in a new age, not the 21st century… This is the Plastic Era! [Editor’s note: (haha that’s me, MM, “editor”) please click on that link oh.em.gee awesomeness] Where we cover everything in plastic!  A wonderful petroleum made from toxic chemicals that makes everything much safer.  Your peel is nothing compared to the industrial strength of the plastic bag!

So banana, I don’t want you to worry about that disease infested world out there between the sanitary grocery store aisle and your safe home (that has been sprayed down with anti-bacterial spray to the point where the air is a little toxic) because you’ve been wrapped in the safest material known to man: the plastic bag.

-Jesse (in complete and utter sarcasm)

Dear Neighbor Who Always Leaves His Laundry In the Machine

22 Nov

Dear Neighbor Who Always Leaves His Laundry in the Machine

for SOOOOOO long that I have no choice but to take it out— usually using two fingers and holding it as far away from me as possible— this is just a note to say that I hate you.

You clearly don’t understand the rules of human decency and behavior, and you should be forced to wash your clothes in your tiny bathroom sink for the rest of all time as punishment.  Someone will be coming by to make sure you aren’t using that spacious bathtub.

Also who in their right mind living any kind of normal life needs that many jockstraps.  How can you possibly wear so many jockstraps that they regularly make up HALF of your load of laundry.

You don’t deserve question marks.  I save question marks for people I like and also for questions I actually want to know the answers to.

May your turkey be stuffed with jockstraps in retribution and because clearly that’s what you like and everyone, no matter how much they suck and should have to eat their own jockstraps, should get what they like on holidays,


Dear Katie

19 Nov

Dear Katie,

So, you guys, my sister (Katie) sent me an email the other day with a suggestion for a letter.  About herself.  Except she went ahead and wrote the darn thing, so I’m just going to copy and paste it below and hope that the joy of the family dog’s delightful antics and soft fur keep her (sister, not dog) from suing me for plagiarism.  I don’t think the dog knows how to call the lawyer.  Yet.

I’m constantly getting “helpful” emails from my sister with “great ideas for my blog” and correcting typos and helpful hints like “link the homepage to the banner because the other blogs I read do” and she expects me to appreciate her efforts.

Then she adds this note:
You should also include that many quotation marks. It would be better if they were air quotes but that’s kind of hard to do in a letter. I know, I’m so helpful. You don’t have to thank me, just remember me when your blog starts making it big.

Psh.  First of all, I would totally correct that banner thing but I don’t know how to.  I spent like 30 whole seconds trying.

Secondly, I always fix typos when she catches them.  Sometimes I yell and pound the keys while I do, I’m so excited that she has chosen to help me out in this manner.  She usually includes a helpful little reassurance like, “That’s an easy mistake to make” or “really, the f key and the p key are very close together if you’re a penguin and don’t have any fingers.”

Which makes me feel “so” much “better.”  It’s kind of like when we were little, and she’d say, “Well, that’s a really pretty mudhouse you drew!” and I’d say, “IT’S A FAIRY PRINCESS” and she’s say, “Brown was an interesting choice.  And is she just really fat or what?  Don’t worry, I bet if you start over it will be better next time.”

She’s a real encourager, that one.  She could totally coach football in Texas with that kind of encouraging attitude.  And oh, I’ll remember her when my blog makes it big.  Maybe I’ll prove it by just writing every letter from here on out to her.  I have some things to say, all right?

Thing #1: She went through a phase when she was in college when she would bite me.

Love you!


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