a pointless series of open letters

Dear college students,

I know that you seem to enjoy wearing flip-flops. I guess they are comfortable, even though I cannot stand looking at your mangy toes. However, please learn to walk like a fucking human and stop dragging your feet.

Love,

Me

Dear homeless teens on Telegraph Ave,

I really want to help your situation, but I haven’t figured out what role I will play. I don’t blame you for your situation like some others do, and I think you don’t deserve a lot of the treatment you get. I understand your need to make money by playing your guitar. However, do you really need to sound like fucking Nickelback?

Love,

Me

Dear leggings,

I know that you may be uber-trendy and not all that flattering, but goddammit you are so comfortable I don’t care that I look like I am in 1984. Thanks for making my Friday a bit more bearable.

Love,

Me

Dear Nada Surf,

hey, I hear you are recording a new album. I think it’s great that you won’t let your one-hit-wonder status stop you from making wonderful music and knowing that you have devoted fans out there. However, please don’t let it be a piece of shit like your last album, The Weight Is a Gift was.

Love,

Me

Dear Michael Bay,

Why the hell does every movie you have to make be a metaphorical masturbation session? It seems like you are not even trying. Transformers was actually Armageddon with a couple of lines changed.

Love,

Me

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