Cap'n Crunch

Dear Cap'n Crunch,

Thank you for ripping the roof of my mouth to smithereens.

Cap'n Crunch, you are the cheese grater of cereals. Sometimes I tell myself, "my mouth is feeling a little too smooth" -- and that's when I go to you, my sugar-laden dice-o-matic. Is there any way we can just rename you Cap'n Mouth Dynamite or Cap'n Serrated Squares?

Ummm... delicious, you are just what I want for breakfast, Cap'n Crunch, a nice helping of mouth sandpaper. For lunch, I think I'll finish the job with a piping hot pizza whose sauce will burn whatever you manage to leave behind unscathed. And then for dinner, I can drink some vinegar. Ummm... delicious.

Just because it's called breakfast doesn't give you the right to actually break me.

Sincerely,

My Mouth

Fact: Cap'n Crunch used to be call Serg'n Splinter....

but was upgraded in military rank for its extreme mouth-destroying skills

Little League

Dear Little League,

I remember the year the coaches stopped pitching and the kids started pitching. That was the year I started getting hit with the ball. And then I started being afraid of the ball.

I think my batting average went from .759 to about .195, a precipitous drop to say the least.

Or maybe it wasn't the kids pitching that threw me off. It could have the slow abandonment of chants, such as "Hey, Batter Batter, Hey Batter Batter, Swing" or "First Base Look at Me, I'm a Monkey in a Tree," and of course -- "We want a pitcher, not a belly itcher!"

Yeah, on second thought, I think that was what it was.

Sincerely,

Little Leaguers Just Like Me

Women's Shoulder Pads

Dear Shoulder Pads,

Thanks for making it harder for me to get a job.

When I used to go into business interviews against women, I always thought my broad shoulders presented my most distinct advantage. But once you came around, I lost my edge. Damnit.

Shoulder pads, you really level the playing field. Sometimes I see people, thinking, "I don't think that women has the testosterone she'll need to survive in this business environment," but then she puts on a blazer and those exact same people are like, "never mind."

Curved shoulders are cliche. Straight shoulders are straight up awesome.

Thank you, women's shoulder pads, thank you indeed.

Sincerely,

Fashion

Terrorists

Dear Terrorists,

I know your strategy. Instill fear, make us nervous, scare us. If we are afraid, you win. If I am afraid to fly... you win.

That's why I'm not afraid to fly. In fact, I fly all the time. I even crash the planes I fly (which is easy because I'm not a trained pilot) just to prove that I'm not afraid of flying. I do it regularly. Nothing phases me anymore, terrorists. I refuse to let you win.

And that's why I'm not afraid of a pipe bomb under my car. How do I know I'm not afraid? I put a pipe bomb under my car just last week. NBD. You hear that? NBD. I'm not afraid of blowing up in my vehicle because I've already been down that road. Baby, that don't phase me.

Do I fear the public water supply being contaminated with biological weapons? Let me answer that question with a question of my own: if I was afraid would I poison my own neighborhood's water? Of course I wouldn't.

Sorry terrorists, but this is one battle you can't win. I have no fear.* Your tactics will not affect my life.

However, I do need to find a new car... and go to the hospital... and find a way to pay for those planes.

Sincerely,

The UnTerrorizable Man

*Literally, I own the shirts.

Bloggers In Search of Awards

Congratulations Bloggers,

You have each just been awarded the:

Yes, the BLOG EXISTS AWARD! Who gets the Blog Exists Award? Only the best blogs that exist, that's who.

So, if you are a blogger, and your blog exists, here's what you do to claim your prize:

1. Right click and save this meticulously-designed button award and post it on your blog.

2. Give me free publicity.

3. Repeat No. 2.

4. Give out the Blog Exists Award to everybody you know who blogs.

Pretty easy, huh? Not only that, but it's a lot of fun!

The next time somebody "leaves little something for you at their place"*... you can only hope it's this award. There are hundreds of other fictional blog awards out there, but this is the only one that's been designed by yours truly, and thus, the only one that benefits me, and thus, the only one that matters.

Sincerely,

Committee for the Awardmentation of Blogs That Exist Everywhere

*Anyone else a little creeped out by this phrase? If somebody said this in the movies, I'd expect the character who "went over to their place" to get shot or raped.

People Considering Bowling

Dear Bowling Public,

The perfect score in bowling isn't 300.

Scoring 300 would imply that you bowl often, and bowling often is bowling too much. The perfect bowling score is about 130. That means you don't bowl very often, maybe once or twice a year, which is certainly not enough to get really good. And bowling rarely, if ever, that's perfect.

What do I have against bowling? It's just another one of those sports (see: badminton, tether ball) where being a winner is pretty close to being a loser. The sports are fine as rare recreation, but once you start taking those sports seriously, you start losing my respect.

Demetri Martin once remarked, ""I heard this guy say to his friend, 'Man, I'm really good at checkers.' Which is the same as saying, 'Man, I'm not good at a lot of things. I stink at everything except checkers.'" Sorry bowlers, you are the checker players of the sports world.

So, you want to get a perfect score?

Don't shoot for 300, bowling public.... perfection has never been so flawed.

Sincerely,

James

Now That's What I Call Music!

Dear NOW!,

Will you ever stop?

You're up to Volume 39 (39!) in the USA... Volume 79 (79!) in the UK... you've even put 23 damn albums in Portugal. Leave the Portuguese alone! They have enough problems as it is.

We get it; you and your obnoxious exclamation points are really successful... people purchase you. But 79 Volumes? Is that necessary? Your absurd number of Volumes is starting to appear condescending and arrogant. Please, give it a break, Now That's What I Call Music!

It seems that your musical mission is to catalog every overplayed song, combining them for a final assault on my ears. Take a decade off. Come back in the 2020s if you must, but I'm currently weary of your ways.

Being the best of the worst doesn't make you great.

Sincerely,

All Exhausted of Pop Music