Letters for March 30th, 2011

Dear weather,
This is total bullshit.  It's March 30th.  I was already mad when I heard about the "light dusting" of snow we were supposed to get today.  Then I left work in a white-out and drove home in a blizzard.  At least it only took me over an hour to get home.  CAN YOU FEEL THE SARCASM??  I am a pretty patient person when it comes to Cleveland weather, but let's get a move on with the warm temperatures, please!  I don't even need 60 degrees.  But can we at least get out of the 30's?  For the love of God.  I'm starting to lose it.  I for real was yelling at the sky-out loud-walking into work on Monday.  Please get warmer before someone locks me up.

Dear insomnia,
Please see my first comment to "weather".

Dear Dan Gilbert,
It's really awesome that the Cavs beat the Heat last night, but you jinxed us with your hastily put together "we're going to win everything" open letter to the Internet last year.  Please get your shit together.

Dear friends,
Sorry that at 34 I still steer dinner conversations toward poop talk.  I'm sure you all expected at this age to go out to dinner and have some adult conversation, but you forgot one thing:  You are friends with me.  At least we used the classy and made up euphemism, "delivering a food baby" which, by the way, is how I'll be referring to it from now on.  P.S. I am not really sorry about this.  In fact, it was one of the highlights of the night, and I almost peed my pants laughing at that conversation.

Dear March Madness brackets,
I don't even know where to begin.  You...well the only word I can think of to describe what happened is, imploded.  You imploded.  I barely have words for the massacre that took place within your walls.  Of course I'm trying.  I'm working on my poem, but so many teams were involved in my ass beating this year that I'm not even sure where to start. 

Dear ass,
Sorry about your severe and brutal beating at the hands of pretty much every single NCAA men's basketball team this year.  P.S. Why are you so big?  Can part of you take a permanent vacation to someone else's body?  How about Chris Brown?  He is just one big giant ass so you will probably feel at home there.  Have fun.  Don't write. [Insert weird mental image of my ass writing me a postcard with a picture of Chris Brown on the front here.]