Dear Pretend Blind Guy:

As I'm walking down the street today I see you walking down the street with a cane in your hand, waving it back in forth in front of you. The thing that made me really wonder what was up with you was that the stick wasn't even touching the ground. How do you have any idea of what is in front of you if the stick is not touching the ground? Made me wonder if you were really blind. A few minutes later I'm waiting to cross the street and I feel something whack me super hard in the side of the calf. Then feel someone run into me. It was you Pretend Blind Guy. Now, this is when I decided you must have not really been blind. 1. You whacked me in the middle of the leg...if you were using the stick properly you would have hit me in the foot, and 2.a real blind person would not have then walked right into me, because after hitting me directly in the leg, they would have realized there was something right in front of them, and they should stop and not keep walking that way. Who knows maybe you are newly blind and not use to walking with a cane, but it really didn't seem that way to me. If you are not blind I don't know what purpose you have in pretending to be, or why you whacked me in the leg, but whatever your reason you're a horrible person. And if you are actually blind...maybe you should consider getting a seeing eye dog.

Thanks,

Megan

Dear Smelly Rude European:

Now, I cannot name you by name, because some people are worried that certain other people (as in you smelly European) will read my blog and get offended. But ya know what buddy; you offended me quite a lot on Saturday night, so I personally don't care if I offend you or not. You smell, and you need to shower. How does that make you feel? It's kind of rude for me to say that right? Well how about when you told me that I "don't look like I don't eat meat" and that you bet I "eat pounds of bacon when everyone else goes to sleep at night." I asked if you were "calling me fat," and you of course said NO, but really dude, what were you trying to say? What does a person who "doesn't eat meat", look like? Skinny right? So exactly, you are calling me fat by saying I don't look like a person who doesn't eat meat. And really you took it too far by saying I probably eat pounds of bacon when people go to sleep at night. What were you insinuating there buddy? The worst part is you could tell I was pissed off, and you kept it up. What if I told you over and over again you smell and need to take a shower? Wouldn't it make you mad? I bet....so listen, Smelly Rude European, you have been in this country 10 years, I think it's about time you learn what is acceptable to say to people and what's not. A lot of Americans are fat, and they are very sensitive about being fat....so quit making comments to people about being fat. And what you don't understand is that in America you don't need to necessarily say "Megan you are fat" to call me fat, you can say "you eat pounds of bacon at midnight" and it means the same thing.

Thanks,

Megan

Dear St. Louis (Episode 2):

So St. Louis....the last time I visited I was pretty bored with you. This time I definitely saw some more interesting things at your little Mardi Gras celebration than I did the last time I was there. My real concern is why the hell do people bring their kids to this thing? I mean like to compare for people who have never been there I'd say it's the Southside Irish Parade times 10....and by 10 times...I mean 10 times the people, 10 times the drunkenness, and about 100 times the inappropriate things going on. I personally would never want to drag a kid through crowds of 1000s and 1000s of people...but I can see how that's not an issue for some people, crowds don't bother some people like they bother me. But what I can't understand is why people would want to bring their kids to an event where the majority of people are there to get black out drunk. And while not everyone may articulate that plan....when people start drinking 32oz draft beers at 10am, I don't see how they could have any other intentions than to get that drunk. Who wants there kids around that? I know I don't want to be answering questions like, "Mommy, who is this creepy old man that keeps falling down and slurring his words that's trying to talk to me? "...or "why did that girl just pee on someone's front lawn?" And if you can manage to protect your kids from the drunk idiots that surround them, I don't see how you can keep them away from all theinappropriate things going on. I mean come on....when most people think Mardi Gras, they think boobs. Why would you bring you kids to a place where you know there is going to be slutty chics flashing people? I mean I was actually suprised at the little amount of boob flashing I saw, but regardless...if you are a parent you should have been worried about it. Especially because even though it was too cold for most people to be flashing, it's not like there wasn't still an overabundance of boobs. Every stand I went to had whole string of beads with giant boobs on them. And those weren't even the worse ones....there were plenty of naked chics ones, and ones with dirty sayings on them. I guess if your kid couldn't read you'd be a little better off.....but even though they couldn't read the necklace that said "F the tits, show me the bush"....the visual should be enough for anyone to realize this is no place for kids.

And then there were things like this.....for just $2 you could take a picture sitting on a giant mustache...with a sign that said " I got a mustache ride at Mardi Gras".....do you really want your kid asking you if they can take a "mustache ride" picture? Or even if they don't want to take the picture do you really want them asking you what a "mustache ride" is???? And then there was just things that were out right appalling and everyone should be grossed out by seeing them....not just worried about children being exposed to it. Like this business card I saw which is by far the most disgusting business card I could ever imagine anyone having......What the hell is wrong with the people who own this business? Now I'm sure they probably just named their business "Camel Towing" because of what it sounded like......but I think they took it a little too far with these business cards, making it so obvious why they named their company what they did. People will probably get the visual just from hearing the name, I could really have done without the up-close picture of a chic's crotch. So St. Louis....can you do me a favor? Clean it up a little, or don't allow kids at your parade. If parents aren't going to have enough sense not to bring their kids there...someone should.

Thanks,

Megan

Dear Mean Old Man in the Caddy:

I was walking home from the bus today when I came to an intersection with a 4-way stop. I stopped and let one car go, and then proceeded to walk across the street. As I got to about the middle of the intersection, I see you begin to turn out of the corner of my eye. You then point and beep at me like I am doing something wrong. Listen Old man, I am a pedestrian; I have the right of way. And it's not like I darted out in front of your car or anything. I was in the crosswalk long before you began to turn. Maybe you couldn’t see me because you are old, but that does not give you an excuse to beep and point at me...causing me to fall in the middle of the street. I am surprised you didn't drive right over me, considering how annoyed you are that I had the nerve to try and cross the street that you were trying to turn on. After I recovered from my embarrassing fall I got up and flipped you the bird, and just for good measure yelled F' you as well. Not like you could hear me, your windows were up and you are old. Now after I did this I realized how absolutely ridiculous I looked and how crazy people must have thought I was. If I was witnessing myself, I probably would have blogged about it, "Dear Crazy Bitch Who Flipped Off that Poor Old Man." But the more I thought about it, the more I realized you did need to be flipped off. I did nothing wrong. You, with your impatience and beeping and pointing caused me to fall in the middle of the street, reinjure my elbow (from my previous fall down the stairs), and caused me to act like a crazy person. That's right I am blaming you for my yelling and bird flipping. How was I supposed to act? Not only did you nearly run me over, I was humiliated in front of all the people that were on the street. For someone who falls as much as me I shouldn't really be embarrassed about my falls anymore....but this one was bad. And it was all your fault....if you had just waited 5 more seconds for me to cross the street, none of this would have happened. So Old Man, I think it’s about time you turn in your keys. I personally don't think any old people should be driving, and you are a clear example of why. You either cannot see anymore and that's why you didn't notice me crossing the street until I was practically in front of you, or you are one of those old people who thinks they have the "right of way" just because you are old. Please do all other pedestrians a favor and STOP DRIVING!

Thanks,
Megan

Dear Dummy in Employment Law:

Today in Employment Law our class was discussing whether or not employers should be able to not hire or fire a woman just because she was pregnant. Personally if I was a dude I would have been afraid to give my opinion on this one, because I'd think all the chics in class would jump all over me if I took the side of the employer. Apparently no one in my class was really looking to fight today, because you said quite possibly the dumbest thing I think I have ever heard anyone say, and no one managed to really correct you. You raise your hand and start rambling about how it's not really discriminating against women, because women are just naturally the ones that get pregnant. The argument made no sense....but then you decided to really add to your credibility by correcting yourself "well usually only women can get pregnant, men can only get pregnant if they have surgery." Are you FUCKING kidding me????? The teacher laughed and questioned you, and you said "like that pregnant guy on Oprah." Okay, I know the "pregnant man" thing was a big deal in the news a few months back, but all you had to do was listen to one news clip about it, and you would have known it wasn't actually a man, it was a woman that had surgery to get herself some boy parts, and took hormones so she could grow facial hair. Really, most, people shouldn't have needed to see the news, because any person with a drop of common sense should know that a man cannot get pregnant. I mean, do you actually think its possible to put female reproductive organs into a man? Where would a doctor get a spare uterus or a pair of ovaries? I mean I know it's possible to have this sex reassignment surgery that the "dude" on Oprah had... I'm going to go ahead and let you google what that actually involves. But I'll tell you what it doesn't involve, it does not involve a man being able to physically become pregnant. Just because you put some implants on someone and give them some estrogen pills, does not mean they can get pregnant. So Dummy, let me reiterate this, men in fact cannot get pregnant...unless of course you are really a woman, or Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Thanks,

Megan

Dear Crazy B in the Laundry Room:

Today I went down to the lobby to throw out some garbage and then check my e-mail. I had a garbage bag, a box from my newly purchased humidifier, and my computer in hand, when I slipped and fell down about 5 stairs. I landed on my butt and my elbows in an attempt to save my computer. The thanks I got from my computer was it slamming into my face as I hit the ground. I sat on the ground for about 5 min yelling in pain, and did the rude doorman get up to help me? NO! I know he had to hear me yelling in pain as I hit the ground, you'd think he'd be a little more concerned? But anyways, after I walked out of the stairwell I put my computer down, and went to throw out my garbage, and YOU, B from the laundry room, were standing in the doorway that leads to the laundry room and the dumpsters. You barely let me get through the door....I throw my garbage out, and as I walk back through the doorway you ask me rudely with a lot of tude if I have any laundry in the dryers...I say no and keep walking. I then see a dorky little dude go into the laundry room...and immediately hear you yelling at the top of your lungs at this poor kid. Apparently dorky boy took your clothes out of the dryer and left them on the table. You screamed at this poor guy for probably about 10 min, why he stood there and put up with your screaming is beyond me...the second your crazy ass started yelling at me I would have walked out of the laundry room. Listen B, I'm guessing your clothes were sitting in that dryer for a very long time before you walked your dumb ass down to the laundry room to check on your clothes. It is you own fault...I'm guessing when you put your clothes in the dryer you noticed that a lot of the washing machines and dryers were in use. So you should have realized that you needed to get your clothes right when you were done. As you were yelling at this poor guy I heard you screaming about how there are bedbugs in this building and bla bla bla. Um, lady if you were sooo worried about the "bedbugs" in this building, you shouldn't be doing your laundry here. This poor dude taking your clothes out of the dryer did not give you bedbugs. You were just looking for a reason to scream more. It is not that big of a deal that he took your clothes out of the dryer, so you decided to be a bitch and scream about bedbugs. What kind of crazy person screams at someone they don't know, when it's their own fault for leaving their clothes in the dryer for sooo long? Again, like when I fell, the door man didn't step in. He should have gotten up and told you to shut the f' up. Apparently the old man is useless....makes me feel rather safe here. But regardless of what the doorman did or didn't do....you should have not been acting like such a B, go to a laundry mat and wait there for your clothes to dry if you don't want them taken out of the dryer. There is like 10 dryers in that laundry room for a building that has 100s of people living in it. You can't expect to be able to leave your clothes in the dryer forever and not think someone else might take them out. So B in the laundry room, just know that if I ever need to take your clothes out of the dryer I will....and I won't put up with your shit like little dorky dude did.

Thanks,

Megan

Dear Drug Dealer and Girl with No Friends in my lobby:

Now, I am addressing this to both of you because these incidents happened rather close together, and figure why not knock them both out at the same time? Drug Dealer...you're first. You come into my lobby last night, with your "cousin" and go to the door lady and tell her you're here for whatever apartment number. She looks at you rather skeptical so I am guessing you have been here before, and she has had problems. She calls, no answer. She tells you there was no answer so she can't let you up. You ask her if you can use the phone to call a different number because you are here for a "business" and you need to go up. She then asks you why you can't use your own phone, and you said because you need to call the "business" number, and you don't have it on that phone. What you said made absolutely no sense, I don't know if door lady just wanted to get rid of you or what the deal was, but she let you use the phone. You call a different number and tell whoever is on the phone that they need to get a hold of "her" because the "European" door lady thinks you are here for "alternative" purposes, and not for your "business deal". OK buddy, you come in to the apartment at 8:00 on a Saturday night, wearing a du-rag and jeans that are falling off your ass, telling the door lady you're here to work on a "business." Really, what is that "business"...what do you think the door lady thinks when she sees the way you are dressed, you're being all shady about using the phone and trying to get a hold of the chic, and it's a Saturday night? I'd think the only people working on "business" at that time are drug dealers and prostitutes. So buddy, don't get all pissed off when the door lady is skeptical that you are here for alternative purposes....because I think we all know that you ARE.
And on to you "girl with no friends." This morning I am sitting in the lobby, and there is two other people. A blonde girl and some Asian kid. You walk up to the blonde girl and ask her if she has lived in this building for awhile. I think the blonde girl thinks you are asking her because it has something to do with the fight that just took place in the laundry room...(two people got in a fight because one took the others wet clothes out of the dryer before they were done). I thought, and I think blonde girl thought, you wanted a witness to this fight, or you wanted to know the policy on taking people's clothes out of a dryer when they have been sitting there for a long time. Apparently no, you were just looking for some friends. You tell blondie that you are new to the building, and you don't know many girls, and would she like to hang out sometime. Now girl with no friends, maybe this is the reason you don't have any friends. Who goes up to a rando girl and asks if they want to be friends? It would be one thing if you had been sitting down here in the lobby like the rest of us, and you and blondie struck up a conversation. But no, you came down to the lobby, walked right up to her, and asked her to hang out. Do you realize how weird that is? And how do you know blondie is the kind of person you even want to be friends with? You literally talked to her for 2 seconds before you said you wanted to hang out with her. And then you didn't even like stay to talk, you left like almost immediately, it was just freaking creepy. I am also a little bothered by the fact that you didn't ask me to be your friend. Now I would have been equally as creeped out as blondie was...but it still makes me wonder why you picked her and not me. Why don't you want to be friends with me? You picked the cuter of the two girls, and decided to talk to her. Um, listen lady, if you have to ask strangers to be your friends, you shouldn't be sooo picky. If I was in your position I would personally pick the chubby girl with the greasy hair that's in sweatpants over the cute blonde that's all dressed up, because out of the two who do you think is most likely to also have no friends, and be willing to become friends with a rando in her building? Now, I am not saying I would have been willing to hang out with you, I am just saying from looks alone it would have made sense to try and talk to me first. Maybe you should start hanging out in the lobby more, you might find friends that way. But Girl with No Friends its freaking creepy to just walk up to some girl you've never met before and ask her if you can come up to her apartment sometime and hang out.

Thanks,
Megan

Dear People Hatin' on my Moon Boots:

Do you people live in Chicago? Do you understand how cold it gets out? I occasionally walk to work because I am too cheap to pay for the CTA, or sometimes don't appreciate having to wait forever for a bus to finally show up just to see it drive right passed my stop because it couldn't possibly stuff another person on it. Why don't you try walking a mile and a half with regular boots on and tell me your feet are not soaking wet and freezing cold when you get to your destination. My moon boots on the other hand keep my feet as dry as possible. Not one ounce of water has touched my feet since I began wearing my moon boots. I have walked through several inch deep puddles and snow piles and my feet have not been cold or wet once. Now I understand the boots are a little funny looking, but don't knock them until you try them. I see the looks people give me as I clomp passed them in my boots. Most people just stare, some people give me dirty looks, and other people elbow the person next to them and point at me. Some people comment, and they're always one of those comments where the person says something that's not exactly nice but not exactly mean, but I can tell they are judging me. Like the man in my building who said "ddaaammnnn girl, those are some BOOTS!" Now, that wasn't necessarily a bad comment about my boots, but I could tell by his voice what he really meant to say was "Ddddddaaaammmnnn girl, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING???" or maybe "dddaaaammmmnnn girl, where's the spaceship I hope you just got off, because nothing else would justify wearing those kind of boots." Then there's the people who ask if they are warm....are you blind???? I just assume those kind of people feel the need to make some comment about my boots but don't have anything to say that wouldn't sound rude, so they ask me an obvious question like "are they warm" or "what kind of boots are those?" They don't say Moon Boots or anything right across the front of them. I bet some of you are thinking, "how hypocritical of someone who judges people for a living (and by living I mean the $4.00 I've made off the adds on my blog) to get mad when someone judges something she wears." Oh but Moon Boot Haters, the difference between me and the people I write about is: moon boots are awesome and leggings/smelly homeless people/crackheads/atheists/fat naked ladies etc. are anything but awesome. So quit hatin' on my moon boots, get yourself a pair, and you will understand.

Thanks,

Megan

Dear Smelly Man on the 36:

To get home from school I can either take the 22 or the 36 bus. I prefer the 22, but if I don't see it coming and the 36 is there I will take it...it's only an extra block or two walk to my apartment. Well today I was a little mad I didn't just wait for the 22. I get on, and go sit towards the back of the bus. About two stops down you get on. I can tell you are homeless by the beat up plastic bags and the suitcase that is about to fall apart that you are carrying. You walk to about the middle of the bus and plop your suitcase and 5 plastic bags across a row of 3 seats. Now buddy, I understand you have a lot of stuff, but it was getting close to rush hour, and there was a lot of people already on this bus. It's complete BS that you took up a whole row of seats, and a handicapped row at that. You then proceed to stand in the middle of the aisle and face forward (I was sitting several rows behind you)...and you go to hike your pants up higher or something, and end up exposing your ENTIRE hairy butt and nasty nasty underwear. Now at this point I have to wonder why you even bother wearing underwear. It was so incredibly filthy looking that I can't even imagine how long you have been wearing it for. But that is besides the point...can you please not expose your entire ass to a bus full of people?? That was a little old lady sitting directly behind you that saw the whole thing waaayyyy to up close. She was absolutely appalled. I am surprised she did not get up and move, because once you sat down we both found something else to be completely appalled by, your smell. Now I get it that you probably can't shower that often...but can you at least not pee on yourself? Because that's exactly what the entire bus smelled like once you sat down...pee. I thought about getting off the bus the smell was so bad...but it was raining and I didn't feel like waiting for another bus. So please smelly man, if possible get some pants that fit so you don't expose yourself to any more old ladies, and if you can't stop peeing on yourself, change your clothes once in awhile, will ya? You gotta have something else to wear in that suitcase. you're carrying around.

Thanks,
Megan

Dear Richard Roeper:

If older women can be 'cougars,' older men are ... :: CHICAGO SUN-TIMES :: Richard Roeper

I was in the dentist's office today, trying to make my next appointment when my mom called me to tell me I was quoted in your article. I have looked in the paper everyday since I e-mailed you a few weeks ago about your "cougar" article, in hopes that you would write a response to the e-mail I sent you. So needless to say, I was rather excited when I found out I made the article today. The receptionist at the dentist office probably thinks I am crazy because I was yelling into the phone when I found out, and then ignored her for the next 5 minutes while I texted all my friends to tell them. And then I read the article and I'd have to say I was a little disappointed that, as one friend put it, "[you] owned me." Because, I never tried to say that Manther was going to be as popular as cougar. Some woman like being called a cougar, no dude would like being called a manther, it makes them sound creepy, which is kind of the point. My only reason for e-mailing you was to inform you there is in fact a word for men, that is similar to cougar. I agree with you that it won't catch on quite like cougar has, and I'm also pretty sure George Clooney would never use the term to refer to himself. Maybe you don't like the word because you know you fit into the category. You're single, and old, and a little famous, so I'm just going to guess you date younger chics. I'm sure you wouldn't want someone calling you a word that sounds like "a second-tier character in a Marvel comic book." But Richard, no matter how you decided to spin it since you didn't like being proven wrong, I still think it's pretty freaking awesome you quoted me.

Thanks,
Megan