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Letters To The Reader 1/03/07 issue

Dear Myspace profile without a shirt on, You aren’t that buff man. Seriously. You want to lose that potential financial advisor job because HR googled your name and got turned off by your hairy nipples? There are kids on this thing. Or is that why you are on myspace in the first place? Columbia City Paper

Dear Neighborhood Pyromaniacs, I love fireworks as much as the next guy, fellas. Really. But, you… You guys have been going strong since December 29. I know, because it’s the last night my dog let me get any sleep. I think the poor wretch has finally had a nervous breakdown. He lost ten pounds and half the hair on his body. Maybe one of your errant Roman candles singed it off? There are little pink bottle rocket sticks hanging in every tree, melted plastic bottles in the road. It’s like a warzone! Mother of Christ, we’re all glad you’re happy about the New Year, but PLEASE!! [gulp] …Please. Just give me five hours tonight. Columbia City Paper

Dear Joggers-in-Place, This great country was founded on the unwavering grit and determination that you 55-year-old-men in your hot shorts exude as you wince and check your pulse rates at long traffic lights, refusing to even let the jeers and catcalls of construction workers break your stride. In Shandon when a whole herd of you stop-n-jog it’s like being parked in front of some type of drive-thru aerobics class. Do you jog in place around the house in those fine, tight ass shorts while heating up your evening hot pocket in front of the microwave? Fear not, joggers-in-place, Columbia City Paper and the American Medical Association are releasing this official report: if you stop moving your legs, you’ll be able to start them up again. Columbia City Paper

Dear nose picker in car, There should be a federal law stating that unless you are traveling on interstates all gold digging in motor vehicles is restricted.It’s just too distracting. Perhaps it should be up to each state to issue a permit for picking for commercial drivers and travelers going more than 400 miles. (Safety first.) In general, public nose picking should be a crime punishable by fine under sanitation statutes. Or maybe even a weekend in jail. That’s plenty of time to pick your nose and think about what you have done. Columbia City Paper

Dear New Years resolution, Wow, that didn’t take long. Within 48 hours, we’re back to eating fries, drinking beer, random hook-ups, popping pills, forgetting Sally’s soccer game, making purchases on a 28% interest Capital One card, and watching the latest lame reality show. Well, there’s always 2008. Columbia City Paper

Dear little pink urinal disk, Bulls Eye! Taking a wee has never been so much fun. I don’t have to count tiles anymore and, hey, if it wasn’t for you I might be tempted to compare salamis with the gibrone next to me. But what’s with the splashguard? This thing is misting like holy water at Christmas Day mass. My khakis are spotted and this freaking McDonalds doesn’t believe in paper towels. Do I climb onto the lavatory to squat in front of the air dryer or return to my date with these spots? Christ! Why can’t everything be as perfect as your sweet, sweet smelling round colorful chlorine disk? I just want to rub you on my face. Columbia City Paper