Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Dear Bird:

I'm walking down State Street today, doing a little shopping, when all of the sudden I feel something hit my nose. I assume its water from a window washer or something, that's generally what it ends up being when I feel something drop on me. So I go to wipe the "water" off my nose when I inhale this horrendous smell. I look down at my hand and I see brown stuff all over it. I look over to my friend and ask her if I have anything on my face, she can barely get the words out but tells me she thinks there is bird shit on my face. I immediately start freaking out in the middle of the crosswalk, a mix of yelling and laughing hysterically. Everyone else walking down state street must have thought I was insane. But come on, how would you react if something crapped on your face? So Mr. Bird, is there anyway you can land before you crap in the future? I mean isn't that a little distracting trying to fly and go to the bathroom at the same time? Do all us people a favor and start crapping on the ground, I personally would rather walk in bird shit than have it on my face.

Thanks,
Megan

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Dear "Garbage" Picker:

So I go to pick up the last bit of furniture left in my apt yesterday. I walk in to a filthy apartment left by my subletter (thanks a lot a-hole!), so needless to say I was already in a bad mood. I get all my furniture out of my apt, I load half of it into my brother's car and send him on his way. I leave the other half behind my building and leave it for my aunt to come pick it up. I go back upstairs to try and clean some of the mess my filthy subletter left. Not 15 minutes go by when I'm looking out my window and I see a beat up red truck with a bunch of junk piled on top of it. Oh wait...that wasn't junk, it was my futon and table and chairs!!! That's right, I go upstairs for a measly 15 minutes, and you garbage picker managed to find your way down my dead end street and then into the alley and load up my furniture. So I immediately start screaming out the window at you. You look around all confused for a second and finally look up and see the lunatic on the 2nd floor screaming "THAT'S NOT GARBAGE, THAT'S NOT GARBAGE, GET MY SHIT OUTTA YOUR TRUCK." So you back it up, and pull back down the alley. I meet you downstairs and start screaming at you some more. You barely speak English and just keep saying "I sorry, I sorry. It was next to dumpster" No buddy it wasn't, it was about 15 feet away from the dumpster. Seriously dude I don't know how you managed to find my stuff so quickly, but next time if it's not in the dumpster or right next to it, maybe you should think twice about taking it. Or here's a novel idea, how 'bout you get a job and you won't have to go around stealing other people's furniture to scrap.

Thanks,
Megan