Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator (ludickid) wrote,
Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator
ludickid

Letters, I send letters

Dear artistic people with websites,

I don't care how artsy you and your people think you are. I don't care if you're in a band. I don't even care if you're in a band I like. Please do not make your website full of Flash-animated icons that are totally incomprehensible and give me not a single clue as to how to navigate your site and find what I'm looking for. Especially if every click gives me a new pop-up window. I'm sure it's very artsy and satisfying to have a rumbling truck be the icon that leads to your discography, but at the very least, put in a pop-up text box so I know what the fuck I'm doing.

Love,
Leonard

***

Dear football players from the Catholic high school,

Despite what you may have learned from your innate sense of entitlement and losing record, you don't own the damn sidewalk, and you can just walk single file until I pass by. If you want to try me, consider this: I used to play football too, and I've spent the intervening 20 years learning to fight dirty.

Love,
Leonard

***

Dear superhero comics, Cities & Knights of Catan and chicarrones,

What is this evil hold you have on me?

Love,
Leonard

***

Dear publicists,

I know your job is difficult and often unrewarding, and that you often bust your ass for people who don't appreciate it. As a freelance writer, I find myself in a very similar position. We both work hard and we both make very little money. But in order for me to make my money, I need you to get back to me in a timely manner. This might seem like an onerous burden, but really, my function is to give your clients free advertising, which means more money for you, so to me it doesn't seem like much. And I even say "thank you" at the end of every communication. I'm the Dickie Crickets of freelance writing.

Love,
Leonard

***

Dear Little Green Footballs,

Every time I think you can't sink any lower, you surprise me. Your recent posts about Marla Ruzicka, who was killed by an insurgent's car bomb in Iraq while raising money to give aid to people who had been maimed or injured (by BOTH sides) in the war, proves that there's no one you won't vilify on ideological grounds. Ruzicka, who spent huge chunks of her time and money and energy helping impoverished people whose children had their legs blown off or whose wives had their faces burned away, kept her politics to herself during her time in Iraq and made it a point to say that American AND Iraqis were causing these injuries, and that while she was against the war, the important thing was not to place partisan blame, but to help people who desperately needed help and couldn't get it. For her opposition to the war and leftist politics, though, you spent 250 posts calling her a dirty pinko moonbat who had it coming, laughing at her demise, naming her as a co-culprit in her own murder, and generally pissing all over her still-warm corpse. I hope you enjoyed it! I'm sure one or all of you will be heading over there right away to carry on her blameless work helping cripplied and maimed children, right?

Love,
Leonard
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