Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Open Letters

Dear Raccoons,
My garbage cans are not a night club. Please stop partying in there. I'm tired of the cigarette butts and raccoon puke in the breezeway every morning.
Mrs. Loudshoes

Dear Mother Nature,
Enough with the rain. I get it, global warming has pissed you right off and you are giving us a good ass-kicking, but seriously, stop it. It hasn't stopped raining since, what?, the beginning of March and I am starting on my plans for an ark. (You can find anything on the internet.) I promise, if you stop wit the rain, I will stop using paper towels and plastic forks.
Yours Hopefully,
Mrs. Loudshoes.

Dear Crazy Client I Have Booked for Tomorrow.
I am a hairdresser, not a psychologist. Psychologists get paid WAY more than I do to listen to you. I will do your hair for free if you just. Shut. Up. This is not a joke.
Mrs. Loudshoes.

Dear City Department of Cat Licencing,
Your website sucks. It goes around and around in circles and then rejects my credit card. Thus, I have not been able to buy a cat licence for Toby for 2011. (Who needs a licence for a cat, anyway?Are your afraid I might not operate him safely? ) You can come and re-possess him, if you want, preferably at 5 a.m.
Mrs. Loudshoes

Dear Mister,
You make me laugh. All the time. Thanks for that.
Mrs. Loudshoes.

1 comment:

Mel's Way or No Way said...

A license for a cat? Forget it!

Maybe you should suggest to your client that you need to charge her extra so you can pay for your own therapy after listening to her. :)