Excuse me as I gratuitously steal an idea from McSweeney's. The best of which is this one, incidentally.
Open letters to the various irritations in my life...
Dear chipmunk that has taken up living in the ceiling above my basement:
Get the fuck out. For real. Before you make me do something I don't want to do. Namely, kill you before you chew up my house. I thought you'd have learned when one of the cats killed your brother, but apparently not. Learn from his mistakes, and beat it.
Dear guy in the goofy looking yellow Subaru Baja who keeps cutting in and out of traffic every morning:
Dude. It's rush hour. Accept it and move on. You're doing nothing but aggravating everyone around you. And maybe you haven't noticed, but I stay in the same lane for the whole drive, and I beat you to the I-90 exit every.single.time. Asshole.
Dear Hotmail Junk filter:
You suck. Seriously. You're horrible. What do I have to do to get it through your thick e-skull that I don't want free airline tickets, cialis, viagra, or lonely sluts who love to fuck (aka Romanian trannies who will roll you in an alley for the fillings in your teeth). I know their schemes are incredibly complicated, using brilliant tactics like slightly different email addresses and misspelled words, but... stop letting them through, dumbfuck, or I swear I'll switch to Gmail and never look back.
Dear squirrels that are wrecking my bird feeder:
Knock it off. It's not for you, you greedy bastards. I've got a tree full of acorns, but noooo, you have to be greedy and steal from the birds. Keep it up and I'm releasing the hounds. You've been warned.
All the best,
Dear dinging noise that chimes in my car every time I take a right turn:
Please stop. And please don't be a sign of something broken, or I will be very sad. I'd like to think I've treated you better than this (except for that time when I backed into someone in a parking lot, but that was totally the other guys fault. You know that. Don't hold it against me.)
Dear Starbucks guy:
Let's not make this hard on each other. I'm only in here because my wife likes your coffee drinks. Me, I'm a Dunkies guy. So 1) Please don't give me that condescending look when I come in looking like a homeless man. I was mowing the lawn. 2) When I ask for a small, please don't correct me and make me use the "proper Starbucks terminology (tm)", or I will straight-up murder your ass.
Yours in Christ,
Dear Audrey the Beagle:
Stop waking up and crying at 5:30 in the morning. Or I will punt you over the fence and someone else can take care of your three-legged ass.
Can't stay mad at you because you're so goddamn cute,