Why I Oughtta

Dear gay ads on MySpace, blogs and various other sites,

You are slowly killing me.

Love,

DAN

Dear lady-fashion trend of wearing a dress with a big honking belt tied around the middle,
I’ve never liked you.

You remind me of the 1980s, but not in a fun “Remember how great ALF was!?” kind of way.  In an side-ponytail, fluorescent pink, crunchy bangs kind of way.

I take umbrage to your influencing young ladies to wear long tunics and tights.  Basically, what this mean is that girls are going around without wearing pants — and it’s all your fault.

I like the fact that you’re trying to accentuate feminine hips, but this is not the way.

When I see you, I do not say “Wow, look at those bodacious curves.” What I say is, “Wow, that is a huge fucking belt!”

I think Lindsay Lohan is to blame for this.

However, I do think that this trend is on its way out, yes?  But whatever.  Los Angeles will soon give us something else that is awful.

C’est la vie.

DAN

Dear cheeseless pizza,

I resent your very existence.

Go back to Russia.

Love,

DAN

Dear Democratic primary,

You make me tired.

Please end as soon as possible, because I really don’t care who wins.  Because I have this (very odd and potentially false) sense of confidence that no matter who the nominee is, he/she will beat John McCain.

I’d like Barack to win just because I think he’d blow it out of the water, but at end of the day it does not matter.

Just stop.

Love,

DAN

Dear moisture,

I miss you.

Winter means cold, dry air and it’s starting to catch up with me.  They say I should buy a humidifier, but I feel like that might be the final nail in my dork coffin.  I mean, already operate two blogs, going on three.

Please come back.

Love,

Chappy McNosebleed

Dear Thin Mints,

You win.

Love,

DAN

(see also: text messaging)

Dear animals of Arlington,

Please stop dying in my yard.

At first, I thought it was a tiny tragedy when I found a cute little bird lying dead on my front lawn. I noticed it on a weekend afternoon and, although I was initially inclined to let nature take its course, it was close enough to the sidewalk that I figured I wouldn’t want people glancing at the festering corpse in my yard and then looking at my house disapprovingly. Therefore, I gave the little guy a small send-off that involved several plastic bags, my grimacing face and the giant trash bin behind my house.

But after finding the fly-swarmed squirrel under my tree (thank you to the good people at Arlington County animal control) and a second dead bird slowly decomposing on the other side of our property line (it’s too far along for me to think about touching it), I’m beginning to think that these are the precursors to either an alien abduction or outbreak of avian flu.

Neither are desirable.

So, if you could all be troopers and start dying in a) someone else’s yard b) near animal control (here, I’ve totally Google Maps-ed it for you), I’d really appreciate it.
Love,

Dan

Dear Murky Coffee,

I thought we had an arrangement.

On my lazy weekday nights, I’ll come home, go to the gym, eat some sort of weird piecemeal dinner (tonight it was a drumbone of leftover Peruvian chicken and a slice of veggie pizza). I’ll still be sort of hungry, but that’s where you come in. I come in and drink coffee to suppress my hunger and check e-mail compulsively. It’s a safe space without caloric temptation.
And now what have you gone and done?  Started to sell cupcakes?  Delicious, soft cupcakes with rich, swirly frosting on top.  The kind that you can just imagine biting into and then forgetting you have any problems.

Now how am I supposed to keep up my weirdo eating habits with this new development?

We are so in a fight.

DAN

PS — you’re lucky that the title track off the new Laura Veirs is so cute, my hostility is somewhat muted.

Dear text messaging,

You win.

Love,

DAN

Dear Spot I Missed Shaving,

Hi again.

Seems like we always run into each other at the gym, go figure. I’m limbering up on that long, horizontal ballet pole thingey by the mirror (which has been dangerously loose for months) and there you are. You’re always in the same place, right under the joint of my jaw on the left side of my face.

Thanks for making me feel like I’m fifteen.

Love,

DAN