Today's Mail

Dear Charity Donation Worker,

I know it’s cold outside, and I know you’re busy, what with all the texting and whatnot, but I could really use a hand out here unloading these many items for The Cause. And, I don’t know, I think standing there, without offering to help (or even looking up from your phone for Pedro’s sake) is a bit craptastic, and shouting, "Holy shit!" when you saw the 20" flat-screen monitor I’m donating (which works almost all the time) doesn’t count as conversation. Finally, I’m worried about your sinuses because the earnestness with which you tried FOUR times to "hawk up a loogie" in our short time together will probably do you more harm than good in the end. I recommend a good expectorant. And a swift kick in the ass.

Peace,
LT

Dear Fellow Gubment Employee,

Granted, it’s 27 degrees outside. And granted, it’s usually 27 degrees inside our building, too. However, neither is a good excuse to wear your huntin’ coveralls to work. Especially not the camo ones. I know you don’t believe me, but this is actually a place of business, and dressing like you’re about to go track and bag dinner is distracting. And effing ridiculous.

Have some pride,
LT

Dear Ghost In My House,

Could you please stop making mysterious puddles of water appear in the garage? I’ve nearly busted ass at least twice thanks to you and your little hijinx, and I’ll be darned if I can’t figure out where you’re getting the water from. The walls are dry, the ceiling is too, and the suspected pipe is sealed – it’s almost as if it’s seeping up from under the floor. But that only works with blood, right?

Just curious,
LT

Dear Antonio Banderas,

I’m not sure where it is written that celebrities are the experts on personal fragrance, but frankly, I’ve had enough, and so has Walgreen’s, apparently. One entire section of the cosmetics "department" at my local store is currently devoted to unloading signature toilet waters at rock bottom prices, right next to the leftover Farting Santas and stockings for pets. Yeah, I know you’re a Latin Lover, and yeah, I would have had your children back in the Desperado days. But now, you’re sharing shelf space with the likes of Shania, Britney, and Barbie and Ken Beckham, and the whole thing feels so dirty. I don’t know if that Swamp Thing you’re married to talked you into it or what, but dude, you’re competing with Tim McGraw. Tim McGraw! He has about as much business in the perfume game as he does in the acting game, and he’s trying to do that, too – so watch your back, amigo. Just leave the potion peddling to the losers, and get back into that Zorro mask. Rowrrr.

Con amor,
LT

Dear Wrinkly Saggy Skin Under My Eyes,

Where in the hell did you come from all of a sudden?

FOAD,
LT