Letter to a Stranger No.3

Shawn | December 28, 2007 in Journal | Comments (1)

Dear Girl Talking Way Too Loud on her Cellphone in the Elevator,

It probably wouldn’t do much good to interrupt your mobile conversation about how wrong your doctor is about your medical condition, to tell you how disgustingly rude and self-absorbed I’ve found you to be in the first 3 minutes we’ve ever been in a (very small) room together. You’d probably take pride in it. Maybe you’d categorize it unapologetically as a defining trait of yours. One you could brag and laugh loudly about while screaming into a cellphone in public.

Yours Truly,
Unwitting Extra in your Brown Street Drama.

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Letter to a Stranger No.2

Shawn | September 25, 2007 in Journal | Comments (5)

Tags: Letter to a stranger, redneck

Dear Asshole in the Red Pickup Next to Me at the Stoplight,

You are such a man.

I am thoroughly impressed with your toughguyitude. ‘Linin’ em up’ with whomever is lucky enough to be next to you at each and every stoplight in town, you waste no time ‘Gettin R Doooone’ in the redneck rally you’re perpetually driving in. Your deft command over your beastly ca. 1990 Ford F150 was dizzying, or perhaps that was the cloud of noxious fumes it left behind. And as if I hadn’t been emasculated enough by your ace driving skills, blinding speed, and sneering backward glance, I nearly shat myself when you slammed your brakes on upon seeing me behind you giving the universal jerk off hand signal! Whew, I almost tasted pure Buxton Steel! Narrowly escaping a Stone Cold can of Whuppass, I trod lightly the rest of the evening reflecting on my inferiority. I will now forever dwell in the cold shadow of your giant cock and balls.

Your humble servant,
Faggot in the Dodge Neon

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Letter to a Stranger No.1

Shawn | September 20, 2007 in Journal | Comments (2)

Tags: Letter to a stranger, underworld

Dear Girl at the Underworld Show,

At the Bank of America Pavilion in Boston last Saturday night, two rows in front of me and my party, you sat by yourself. You were blonde and pretty, wearing black rimmed glasses and a light blue cardigan sweater, drinking a beer alone. You looked familiar to me for some reason, but as my brother pointed out “The cute ones always do”. Though you looked familiar somehow, I’m sure now that I’ve never met you before. (more…)