Dear Jennifer,

You're probably too busy working on an Along Came Polly sequel or something to even read this, but I had some feelings inside I felt the need to share. Don't worry, I'm not stalking you. I'm only writing this letter because I care.

First off, fuck Brad. That guy is a two-timing bitchface asslicker. One day he's eating fried chicken and cheesecake at The Ivy, the next day he's helping starving children in Africa? I call bullshit. He and that Billy Bob bitch should stop adopting kids and start giving theirs up for adoption. I mean, they're going to be worse at parenting than Milli Vanilli is at singing.

As far as Vince goes, I'm sorry to say this, but the time to bail out was yesterday. Sure he's a good looking guy, but good looks don't raise babies. And it seems pretty clear that when you finally give him a "shit or get off the pot" ultimatum, he's going to fly off that pot and go hook up with Jessica.

Jennifer, I'm sorry to be so brutally honest. You deserve better! But don't stay with Vince just for fear of loneliness. You're stronger than that. If you knew what was best, you'd clear the slate and open yourself for true love. In the meantime, please know that Courtney, the girls in yoga class and I are all here for you. Say the word and I'll be right over with a pint of Cherry Garcia.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

PS Hugs!

Dear Insanely Genius Graffiti Writer,

Brilliant. Simply brilliant. With no disrespect to Einstein, your realization that "s" + "not" = "snot" might well be the greatest thought in world history. If future ideas that enter your head even approach this level of thinking, let me thank you in advance for the multitude of ways you're sure to advance society.

Had lesser graffiti artists tagged this sign, they might have put a "g" in front of "litter" to make a whimsical anti-raver sentiment ("Glitter Me Not"). Or penned an "n" after "me" to remind people that a dude-covered sidewalk is not a pretty sight. Or extended the "n" into an "h" before tossing a bunch of taco wrappers on the ground and exclaiming, "It's OK! The sign says littering is hot!"

While those examples may show glimpses of wit, none of them accomplish what you've done, Insanely Genius Graffiti Writer. Through a simple stroke of your yellow marker, you've managed to create a message that's both achingly hysterical (snot = funniest word ever) AND educational ("It's OK to sneeze in public") at the same time. And when one can make important statements through comedy? That, my friend, is next-level type shit.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Hair Hat Guy,

I'm sorry to see how tough times have gotten. To be so broke that you can't even afford to buy a hat is never an easy thing.

If it consoles you any, I too had a period in my life when hats were out of my price range. I remember very vividly having a nervous breakdown after the following conversation with a Salvation Army employee:

ME: Hi, what's your cheapest hat?

SALVATION ARMY EMPLOYEE: Two dollars.

ME: Will you sell me one for ten cents? That's all I have.

SALVATION ARMY EMPLOYEE: Get out of my store.

ME: But it's super sunny. I need something to protect my eyes.

SALVATION ARMY EMPLOYEE: Get out of my store.

ME: Please help me. I might go blind.

SALVATION ARMY EMPLOYEE (picking up phone): I'm calling the cops, you hatless fuckface.

Hair Hat Guy, I applaud both your positive attitude (that smile must really charm the ladies) and, of course, your innovative thinking (YOU GREW YOURSELF A FREAKIN' HAT!). Keep your chin up and remember: a two dollar hat is not all that far away.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

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Photo Submitted By Adam of stackpaper

Dear Chinese Australian Gourmet,

I've written several fortune cookie fortunes to complement your hybrid cuisine. Feel free to use them as you wish.

CHINESE/AUSTRALIAN FORTUNES:

One's greatest danger is to live life without trying Marmite on an egg roll.

Confucius Say: He Who Chases Kangaroos Shall Never Find A Pouch.

Your potential exceeds both Bruce Lee and that dead guy from INXS.

Tai chi is great, but so is getting totally fucking hammered.

Your smile charms like the wallabies at the Shanghai Zoo.

Flush thy toilet both clockwise and counter-clockwise.

Avoid koala bears who know karate.

Your heart is big like Ayers Rock and you're hung like The Great Wall of China.

Best of luck with business, Chinese Australian Gourmet. Next time I'm in the area I'll be sure to drop by for some emu dumplings.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

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Photo submitted by my dad (thanks Dad!)

Dear Snow,

What the heck is your problem? Seriously dude, who pissed in your coffee? There's a golden rule that says, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I find it hard to believe that if you were a car, you'd want it to cover you and make it impossible to get shit done.

Then there's the whole "slippery" thing. What kind of pantshitter sprinkles itself on roads and causes SUVs to crash into trees? What kind of jerkface spreads itself on sidewalks so that elderly people fall and break their hips? Are you taking cash under the table from the Toboggan Association or something? 'Cause if you're just being "slippery" as a joke, I wish a thousand degree furnace upon you and your family.

Lastly, what's up with being so cold? "Hey, look at me! I'm snow! I'm gonna make you freeze your ass off and possibly give you pneumonia!" You should be ashamed of yourself, you frigid flakes of fuck. Quit snowing on our parade and get yourself a gosh darn life.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Gentlemen Of Short Stature,

Please don't take this the wrong way, but how do you use yo-yos?

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Yellow Highlighter Owner,

Who are you and what inspired you to highlight the word "ALL"? My mind spins in a thousand directions as I play Inspector Clouseau and try to figure out your motives. Several of my most plausible theories:

You're the restaurant owner. One of your employees is a massive stoner. You highlighted "ALL" as simple reminder for his pathetic little brain.

You're the restaurant employee who's a massive stoner. You highlighted "ALL" as a simple reminder for your brilliant yet absent-minded brain.

You're a restaurant customer. You discovered a small poo stain on your wife's enchiladas. Since you're not really a confrontational type (maybe you'd just come from Pilates?), you chose to take out anger with a simple stroke of your highlighter.

You're a graffiti artist. Your tag is a small, neon rectangle. You had no real reason to highlight the word "ALL". On another day, you might have chosen "WASH" or "HANDS" or even "RETURNING".

You're the laziest health inspector on the planet. As you probably told your buddies at a strip club later that night, "Why bother calculating some piece-of-shit score out of a hundred when a basic fucking magic marker does the job?"

Are any of these right? Am I even close? Gimme the scoop, Yellow Highlighter Owner. I refuse to sleep until this case is closed.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Photo courtesy of Andrea Harmer

Dear Nudists,

How do you guys react when you have one of your nudie dances and the DJ busts out Nelly's "Hot In Herre"? I'm particularly intrigued in how you react to the chorus:

It's gettin' hot in here (so hot)
So take off all your clothes
I am gettin' so hot
I wanna take my clothes off

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Antonio Davis,

What the hell were you thinking? You really think some drunk asshole harassing your wife gives you a right to enter the stands and defend her? No way, dude! You should have let her taken the abuse and instead focused on something way more important: NBA basketball.

If you weren't aware, Antonio, NBA basketball is more important than ANYTHING. Under no circumstances should an NBA player EVER leave the court to help a loved one in distress.

If you'd seen the guy pick up your wife and head for the exit screaming, "Next stop, Mexico!", you shouldn't have entered the stands.

If you'd seen him throw a garbage can full of snakes on your children, you shouldn't have entered the stands.

If you'd seen him unleash a fire-breathing dragon on your grandmother, you shouldn't have entered the stands.

Even if you'd seen him trick all your friends and family into jumping into a giant box filled with ferocious lions and poisonous wet cement, you still shouldn't have entered the stands.

I give a standing round of applause to the league for handing you a well deserved five-game suspension. Wives may be important, but NBA basketball they are not.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Creative Haircuts,

Ten haircuts that fit the description of "creative":

1. Mullet/Mohawk Combo

2. Six-Foot Rat Tail

3. "Bangs And Nothing Else"

4. Simple Trim Accompanied By Vomit-Colored Dye Job

5. The "Hare Krishna"

6. The "Slash"

7. Shaving The Words "PANT SHITTER" On The Back Of Someone's Head

8. Female Comb-Over

9. White Guy Dreadlocks

10. Cutting Off All Of Someone's Hair Except For A Random Tuft Behind Their Left Ear And Then Perming The Tuft Just For The Hell Of It

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Cheeseburger Hat Man,

I can hear your clever little spiel already. "It's my lucky hat! It was on my head when I won a game of Keno while eating breakfast with a Reno hooker once, and ever since, I've refused to gamble without it."

Dude, that's a cute little story, but it's a pretty pathetic gambling strategy. You're probably forgetting the time you wore it on that Mississippi Gambler and lost $100 playing bingo. Or the time you took it to Atlantic City and had your wallet stolen in that motel craps game gone wrong. Or the infamous "Barbary Coast incident", when you hocked your ex-wife's fur coat because you were "absolutely fucking positive" the next spin would be red. (Which, Mr. Cheeseburger Hat Man, it wasn't.)

It's really not my business, but If I can give you some advice, it's this: quit gambling. The house always has the odds, and even if people are finding intelligent ways to beat the system, none of their strategies includes "giant beef hat."

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Tic Tac,

How brilliant you are. You come up with the shittiest promotion idea EVER ("4 More Inside") and bust it out in an obviously ironic manner as a biting commentary on the marketing tactics of corporate America.

Anti-establishment types are savvy enough to recognize this ingenious satire and proceed to buy a fuckload of Tic Tacs as a thank you for being the brand which finally has enough balls to speak up from the inside.

Holy crap are you smart! (Right? Please tell me I'm right. I mean, you didn't actually think "4 More Inside" would attract customers, did you?)

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer
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Photo submitted by Denny of Smiley Guy Studios

Dear Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Parents,

It goes without saying that in his lifetime, your son did a tremendous amount for the Civil Rights Movement. What I'd like to thank you for today, however, on behalf of rappers worldwide, is the name you chose to bestow upon him.

You see, rap lyrics often name check important historical figures. And while it's inevitable someone of your son's stature will be rapped about, the name you gave him makes that task pretty dang easy. I mean, it rhymes with so many things! Consider:

There once was a dude named Martin Luther King/
A song of peace that man did sing

or

He was a King, first name Martin/
Had dreams bigger than the chest of Dolly Parton

or

Life may be hard but you gotta tell the truth
Follow in the footsteps of my man -- Martin Luth

or

Whether you're a trannie or straight or gay
Say hip hop hooray to who? MLK!

These are just a few of the limitless possibilities.

So, Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Parents, let me thank you not only for raising a son that inspired and changed the entire world, but also for not giving him a name like, say, Aloysius Orange.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Prooofreader,

It was quite possibly the easiest task in the history of proofreading. So I can't help but wondering, how the hell did you fuck it up? Is the word "dollar" not in your vocabulary? Did you get tired halfway through? Are you a new breed of terrorist who's attempting to destroy America by messing with the minds of our youth? Seriously dude, how do you get a two-word document to spellcheck and somehow miss a typo?

To help wrap my head around how much of an idiot you are, I've brainstormed a few examples of how your level of stupidity might translate to other professions.

If you were a basketball player, you'd shoot for the wrong net.

If you were a rapper, you'd try rhyming "ping pong" with "bar mitzvah".

If you were a barber, you'd forget to use scissors.

If you were a lumberjack, you'd refuse to work near trees.

If you were a waiter, you'd bring people shit instead of dinner.

For the sake of mankind, I ask that you stop what you're doing, head to your nearest bookstore and buy yourself a goddamn dictionary. You can probably buy a cheap one for less than fifteen dollers.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Riter

Dear Mega-Hippie,

Though the competition was tough, I'm happy to announce you've just been named The World's Hippiest Hippie. Congrats!

Your atrocious combination of Guatemalan sweatpants, Moroccan hoodie and Steven Tyler headscarf clearly indicate you dress not to impress, but to provide trippy visuals for the acid freaks at your commune. Factor in those generic white sneakers, obviously worn as a "fuck you" against Nike and those other Third World labor-hiring bastards, and boom -- this award has your name written all over it.

Though the Hippiest Hippie title is indeed a prestigious one, there is no trophy to accompany the honor. After all, what is a trophy but a meaningless possession designed by The Man? Instead, to celebrate, I suggest you print out this letter and use it to roll yourself a well-deserved, extremely skunky fatty.

Congratulations once again, Mega-Hippie. Or, should I say, far out!

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Bullrider Kid's Parents,

Things I Would Let My Kid Try Try Ahead Of Riding A Mechanical Bull:

- cigarettes
- shoplifting
- cliffdiving
- beer
- marijuana
- hookers (with protection)
- getting a tattoo
- Zima
- hitchhiking
- veganism
- going to Burning Man

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear E.T. Cafe,

Though I've never named a restaurant myself, I've always cherished the idea of someday getting an opportunity. I mean, there's so many different directions you can go! For example:

1. Puns (Wok The Casbah, You Won't Falafel, 2+ 2 Is Pho)

2. Family Names (Hamman's Hamburgers, Cherise's Bagel Joint, Finley's Clam Shack)

3. Taste-Related Adjectives (Yummy Yum-Yums, Currylicious, 'Dis Bacon Is 'Da Bomb)

4. Value-Related Adjectives (Buck-A-Slice, Fish 'N' Thrift, Noodles For A Nickel)

And, of course:

5. Combos (Charlie's Cheap Chinese, Lots At Steak...For Less!, So Scrumptious You'll Crepe Your Pants)

With so many wonderful alternatives, I can't help but wonder: why in hell did you name your restaurant after a semi-retarded alien? Perhaps I'm missing something, but the idea of eating satay with a semi-retarded alien on my mind is, to say the least, very far from appetizing.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Shopping Cart Daredevil,

Let me guess what you're thinking:

"If I let this drunk babe push me around in a shopping cart, she'll be totally turned on by my adventerous, thrill-seeking manner. This will leave her no option but to invite me back to her apartment where we'll strip naked and screw like rabbits 'til sunrise."

Now let me tell you what I'm thinking:

"If you let that drunk babe push you around in a shopping cart, it's totally gonna fall over. Based on the way you're sitting, odds are fairly good that your nuts will somehow end up getting crushed. This will eliminate any chance of future fatherhood, and you'll instantly fall off the radar of drunk babes worldwide."

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

PS Kids - do not try this at home!

Dear Sushi Restaurant,

I think you should alter your sign so it reads as follows:

Monday Sushi
$1.00 All Day
Unless You Get Food Poisioning
And Have To Go To The Hospital
And Don't Have Health Insurance
In Which Case The Price Is
$20,000 All Day

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer (who advises all readers never to eat sushi on a Monday)
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Photo submitted by Scott

Dear Finger Kid,

It could have been a photo for the ages. You and your best buddies goofing off and joking around in the midst of your wonderful adolescent years. The kind of photo you'd dig up years later for a class reunion. One which would be passed around with joy and delight.

Instead, however, what we're left with is an offensive piece of garbage. Your asinine decision to raise your middle finger at the last second has turned what could have been a truly magical snapshot into a truly magical "snapshit".

If I were you, I'd call up your friends ASAP and profusely apologize for what you've done. And if I were your friends, I'd call you up and say, "Dude, friendship over. You're never invited to hang out with us again."

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

(Sincerest apologies to any readers offended by the crass nature of this photo.)

Dear Rat Finder,

Whenever I see a "Found Pet" sign, my heart warms immediately. "A kind Samaritan took time from their day to help reunite a lost animal and its owner," I think. "How nice."

With you, however, I'm calling total bullshit. I mean, it seems like all you've done was grab a rat from a garbage can and used it as a chance to tell the world, "Hey everybody! I'm kind!"

Let's be honest, Mr. or Mrs. Rat Finder: do you really think this rodent belongs to someone? It's a fucking rat, for chrissakes. Are you genuinely expecting someone to call and say, "You found Ratty?! Thank god!"

No offense, but here's my theory: you're a total loser who's so desperate for human interaction you put up fake-ass signs like this one just to make friends.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Barefoot Guy,

What the fuck happened? Did you lose a bet or something? I mean, YOU'RE NOT WEARING SHOES!

Walking around without a shirt is one thing. Walking around without pants another. But walking around downtown San Francisco without a pair of shoes? That is "nuts" plus "retarded" plus "completely fucking insane", all rolled into one.

And it's not like you just "lost" them, either. I checked in with the Department of What Is And Isn't Possible, and they confirmed my suspicions that it's "totally impossible to lose a pair of shoes while you're wearing them."

Barefoot Guy, is this a money thing? Did you spend all your cash on that so-wrong-it's-right mullet? If so, please track me down. It would be my genuine pleasure to buy you a new pair.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

PS Watch out for glass!

Dear Buckhorn Grill,

In a world filled with adjectives, do you really think "interesting" should make your shortlist of words used to describe your food?

I know it's none of my business, but here are three alternates that might help bring in a few more customers:

1. TASTY

2. SCRUMPTIOUS

3. YUMMY

And while you're at it, why not aim for your customer service to be something a bit higher than "very good"? Take any of the following replacements, free of charge:

1. PHENOMENAL

2. EXCELLENT

3. OFF THE FUCKING HOOK

In the meantime, my prayers are with you and your employees that you don't enter bankruptcy in the year ahead.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

Dear Hippie Dudes,

Am I correct in guessing that this moment is pretty much the pinnacle of your entire lives?

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer

(Note: This photo taken outside Phil Lesh's New Year's Eve concert in San Francisco.)

Dear Paper Towel Machine Company,

I thank you for providing me information about the knob on the side of your machine. But don't you think you're going a little far in referring to it as an "emergency" feed?

I don't mean to harsh your buzz, but I don't think there's ever been an "emergency" related to paper towels. Unless, of course, you're aware of such scenarios as:

"Holy shit! My hands are wet! If they don't get dried instantly...I'll die!!!"

or

"Fucking hell! I spilled coffee on my shirt! If it doesn't get cleaned up right away...I'll die!!!"

or

"Motherfucking shit bombs! I've got a sniffle! If I can't toot my nostrils this very second...I'll die!!!"

I don't mean to belittle your product (I myself use paper towels almost daily), but I do question your use of language more suited for such products as fire extinguishers and defibulators.

Sincerely,

The Rhetorical Letter Writer