Dear Harrah's Joliet Patrons:

Now, I think I have seen some rather interesting things and encountered some rather interesting people in Chicago, but really nothing can top my trip to Joliet yesterday. I have never seen a crowd quite like you guys. I will start with the disgusting old man who sat down at the blackjack table I was at. Please cut your hair. It is in matted clumps all the way past your butt, it kind of looks like one big dread lock. From the looks and the smell of you I'd say your hair has not been washed or brushed in at least 25 years, and I am not exaggerating. And if your not going to cut or wash your hair can you limit your gambling to the machines and stay away from the tables, that way no one will have to be in such a close proximity to you. Next, to the lady in orange on the dance floor, you had on quite the lovely ensemble of an orange t-shirt tucked in to your too tight jeans so your stomach was hanging out real nicely, along with a lovely orange belt and orange socks to match. Ohh I almost forgot the orange flower you had pinned to your weave. You my friend, are quite possibly the most disgusting person I have ever seen.  You were doing some real nasty dance moves, and I'm pretty sure you whipped at least 5 people in the face with your weave. If your not going to stay off the dance floor, can you trim that weave?
There was a bit of a common theme among the rest of the people there last night, missing teeth and awful BO. I'll only specifically mention one more of you, but to the rest of you....before going to a crowded place where you are going to be dancing around like a complete idiot, please put on this thing called deodorant. Now, to you large black lady, you not only need deodorant, you need to do this thing called showering. You were sitting at a table not to far from my own....and the stank coming from you was unbearable. Everyone at my table actually had to stand on the one side of the table because we needed to be as far away from your stench as possible. You made the entire area smell like feet and fish. GROSS. And one more thing, can you please refrain from sucking chicken wings clean while you are sitting near me? At one point I look over at you, to give you one of the many dirty looks I gave you throughout the night, and I see you pull a ziplock baggy out of your pocket. You then proceed to pull out chicken wings and eat every possible piece of meat off them, sucking the bone clean. I actually threw up in my mouth a little bit when I saw this. There were so many awful thoughts running threw my head as I saw you doing this, how long had those chicken wings been sitting in your pocket? Did you pick them out of a garbage can? How old were they? Were they rotten and adding to your stench? Next time you leave whatever dumpster you live in, can you shower and eat before you go out in public?

Thanks,
Megan

Dear Sweaty Fat Man on the Metra:

It's been awhile since I have written to anyone, but since moving back to the suburbs I haven't seen much that has been worthy of my complaints. But today I had the opportunity to see one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen on public transportation. I get onto the back car of the train this morning so I don't have to sit next to anyone, or at least get a window spot. You Sweaty Fat Man must have had the same idea. It was obviously really important that you get a window spot, because if you didn't you would have no where to SUCTION CUP YOUR FAN. That's right, you had a fan suction cupped to the window of the train. I would think this was ridiculous even during the summer, but then it might be a little more forgivable. Sometimes the air conditioning doesn't work on all the train cars, and it gets pretty hot in there. But it was about 50 degrees out when I got on the train this morning. Even though you were a rather large man, I still do not understand how you could be so hot that you needed a portable fan in this kind of weather. It would be one thing if you walked to the train or something and worked up a sweat, but even then it would only be necessary to fan yourself for a little bit. After sitting for awhile you shouldn't be so hot anymore. Even if I was this hot I would be too embarrassed to suction cup a fan to the window. I wonder where one even gets a suction cup fan. It's a true sign of laziness that you can't even hold a portable fan to cool yourself off. You sir are ridiculous.

Thanks,
Megan

Dear kelly's obnoxious neighbor:

So I'm sleeping at my sister Kelly's house on Saturday night after hanging out with her hubby Jim and my boyfriend Steve-O. Before going to bed we were sitting in what Sue would call "the three seasons room." It was a nice night so some of the doors to the "three-seasons" room were open and we could hear you, the neighbor that lives behind them blasting music and just being loud, yelling etc. I assume it's teenagers, because no one else would be that obnoxious. I go to bed, and I can still hear the music in the spare bedroom. I doze off, and when I wake up it sounds like someone is blasting the tv in the family room as loud as possible. I listen a little harder and realize it's still you, the neighbors. This happens several times throughout the night...I wake up, I hear you, I contemplate calling the cops, I go back to sleep. The last straw was when I am woken up by "All the Single Ladies" at 6:30 in the morning. I storm outside and start staring over towards there house, but I don't see anyone. I go back inside and wake Steve up and tell him this has been going on all night. Steve, no stranger to having problems with neighbors, decides to take matters into his own hands. He storms over there and starts banging on the door. No one answers, he keeps banging. Finally you shut the music off, but still don't answer so he walks back. Then we see  you come out the back door and start staring towards Kelly's backyard. So Steve walks back over there and starts yelling at you, and asking you to turn the music off. You then proceed to tell him that you called the police on him. That's right, you, the dumb bitch playing your music so loud that it sounded like it was coming from the TV in the house I was sleeping in, called the police on someone that came over to ask you to turn the music off. You tell him your sorry, you didn't realize he was a neighbor, you just though he was some "strange man." Seriously broad, it's 6:30 in the morning, you have been being loud and obnoxious all night, why do you think someone would be knocking on your door? You tell Steve it's your "girls night." Seriously who has a girls night until 6:30 in the morning? I am going to have to assume you were on some sort of drugs, that you thought it was okay to blast music until that time, and then call the cops because someone was knocking on your door. Next time you have a "girl's night" can you lay off the coke, and maybe turn the music down a bit?

Thanks,
Megan

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

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

Dear "Hurricane Simulator:"

So I am walking through the mall one day with my mom, and we see you, Hurricane Simulator. We were both very confused on what you could possibly do to simulate a hurricane. We see there is a opening at the bottom of your door, so you can't possibly spray water on people. Plus I don't think the mall would have allowed you to set up shop in there if it would mean people walking around soaking wet after they tried you out. So Sue thinks it would be a great idea for me to try it. I figured as long as she was going to pay the $2, why not. So I step in and shut the door. Sue puts the money in and we wait to see what happens. And then a fucking fan starts to blow on me. And that's all that happens. I stand under this dumbass fan for about a minute, and then the "hurricane" stops. Are you f'ing kidding me? This was the biggest waste of $2 in the entire world. Now being from the Midwest and all, I cannot say I have actually ever experienced a real hurricane. But I have seen that shit on TV, and I'm pretty sure it doesn't feel like a dinky little fan blowing on you. Hurricane Simulator, if you are going to claim you simulate hurricanes you need to step up your game.

Thanks,
Megan

Dear Trashy Old People:

So, being the good daughter that I am, I decide to take my mom, Sue, to the Dixie Chicks concert a few weeks ago. We had pretty decent seats, they were at the back of solider field, but in the first section. There was a big section on the field in front of us that was open....that's where you were sitting, or should I say laying, trashy old people. I first noticed you because the dude from your duo looked a lot older than the chic. But the closer I looked the more I think that was just because you, chic, were just dressed like a trashy teenager, you aren't actually one. A few minutes later I see you standing in this big open space making out. You then decide to get an old lady that's kind of near you to take your picture, while you are making out. Seriously, I think 15 year olds do that kind of stuff.....did you then go home and post it on your facebook page? It pretty much went downhill from there. You plop yourselves down in the middle of the field and begin hanging all over each. At one point I really thought you were just going to have sex right there on the field. It was really disgusting. I think you were both soooo drunk that you didn't realize there was at least 8 sections full of people watching you...waiting to see how far the security guards would let you go before they kicked you out. You eventually got up, and I'm assuming either found your way to your seats, or went home and done it like you obviously wanted to. But seriously trashy old people, maybe next time you go to a concert you should hold off on the booze until at least the concert starts so you don't put on a show for 100s if not 1000s of people.

Thanks,

Megan

Dear Michigan:

Now I realize my blog is called "Dear Chicago" but you had your tourism people standing in Union Station the other day handing out Michigan tourism magazines, so I feel it is appropriate to write to you. In this tourism magazine your people were handing out there was  an add to go to a website and enter a contest to win a trip to Michigan. I am a big fan of Michigan, as well as contests so of course I went to the website. There were 12 different places that you could possibly win a trip to. I was in shock when I saw one of them was Flint. That's right I said Flint, Michigan. Are you people out of your minds??? Do you think people have not seen that Michael Moore movie? I still have nightmares about some hillbilly skinning a rabbit for food from watching that documentary. You seriously have to think people are stupid to think winning a contest to go on a trip to Flint would be a good thing. If I were to enter and win this trip....you couldn't pay me money to go on this trip. Do everyone a favor and don't insult the people that entered this contest by offering them a "vacation" to Flint. How 'bout you just offer them the $300 or so bucks this vacation would cost instead???

Thanks,
Megan

Dear Skanks:

Please put your vaginas away. Just because we have had a few 80 degree days does not mean you can all go flashing your va jay jays to the public. I cannot even count the amount of chics I have seen walking down the street wearing "dresses" that barely covered their asses. I cringe even thinking about what I am about to say, but maybe if you cannot find longer "dresses" you should put on leggings. While you will still not be wearing pants, at least no one will be able to see anything they are not supposed to see. Now as inappropriate I think it is for you all to wear shirts that you try to play off as dresses, it's most inappropriate when you are at church. I go to mass this morning, and it is just unbelievable the kinds of things people wear in there. Now, I will have to admit, the dresses people were wearing at mass were not short enough to see a flash of cooch, but they were still WAY to short for church. How could you feel comfortable going into God's House wearing a skirt that went to the middle of your thigh?? What were you people thinking? And as much as the length of skirts bothered me, the biggest skank, most inappropriate church wear goes to the girl who was carrying a Playboy Bunny purse. Are you f'ing kidding me? Those things are trashy to walk around with just in public, let alone bringing it into church. I don't know if you thought it was cute or something because it's easter and you had a bunny on your purse...but let me tell you, it wasn't cute, it was beyond trashy. And here is another tip for you C and E's....tank tops are not acceptable to wear in church. Especially for you fat broads (and there were plenty). No one wants to see you flabby arms and you fat boobs hanging out, especially not in church. Even you skinny chics, having your boobs hang out in mass is just gross. Please cover yourselves up...maybe a little cardigan or something. So skanks, quit being skanks.




Thanks,

Megan

Dear Bitch Boy Carrying Your Girlfriend's Purse:

So I decided to take advantage of this wonderful Chicago weather the other day and walked to work. As I was walking over the bridge over the river I see you Bitch Boy, and your gf, walking happily across the bridge holding hands. I then notice you are holding a bag...when I got closer I noticed that bag was a purse. For about 30 seconds I give you the benefit of the doubt, thinking maybe you are just holding the purse for a second for your girlfriend while does something. But no, that was not the case, because you keep walking, holding hands across the bridge. I walked behind you for like one more whole block, and you were STILL carrying her purse. What the hell is wrong with you? What kind of little sissy are you that you are going to walk around in public carrying your girlfriends purse for more than like 2 seconds? Because that would be the only way it would be acceptable, if maybe she needed to tie her shoe or something and you held it while she did that. But carrying it down the street for who knows how long? I personally think there is not only something wrong with you, but your girlfriend as well. What girl wants to date someone who is such a little bitch that she can get him to carry her purse for an extended period of time? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to have a boyfriend I could order around...but not soo much that I would make him look like a little sally while we are out in public. I think you should take some advice from me, Bitch Boy, and dump that broad. Any chic who is bitchy enough to demand that her boyfriend carry her purse around in public needs to get the boot. And if you can't dump her, how 'bout you stand up for yourself and tell her you're not going to carry her purse anymore?

Thanks,
Megan