Letters to the World – Day 30 – Dear Bikers
Dear Bikers,
What the hell?
You’re getting free valet now? Is this your reward for slowing down traffic, wearing clown suits and your incredibly smug attitude toward drivers?
I got stuck with a biker once. We were on a long road filled with STOP signs every 200 yards. The road was wide enough for six cars and was completely empty except the two of us. When I tried passing the biker, he swerved in front of me and rode slower for a quarter mile.
When I honked at him, he stopped his bike, flipped his head around like a hair model and barked, “Bikes are allowed the whole lane – you are required by law!”
I gently replied, “You haven’t stopped at a single stop sign for the last three miles. And for bikes that is required by law.”
He looked at me, dumbfounded, then mumbled, “Fair enough.”
So I followed him for another mile. Every time he looked back, I waved, smiled and honked my horn.
If I couldn’t kill him with my car, I could kill him with kindness.
Love,
Will
Letters to the World – Day 29 – Bed & Breakfast Log – Day 2
Bed & Breakfast Log – Day Two
Everyone gets it here. Everyone except one of you.
Can you guess who that might be, Samantha?
Did you guess you? Good job! Or should I say, bon travail!
Did you know you were expected to leave a nice note, one full of well-wishes and platitudes?
The system does NOT work like this:
English speakers: Pleasant note thanking innkeepers
French speakers: Meaningless words followed by uncapitalized first name and poorly drawn symbol
So far I have translated your note to mean “anise farms – Samantha.” Awesome work, can’t wait to hear what else you write while you’re high on mushrooms.
– anise pláse – Will
Letters to the World – Day 28 – Bed & Breakfast Log
Bed & Breakfast Log – Day One
Your inn is fabulous!
We had a wonderful time!
THE HOOKERS
What… the… hell kind of move is that? You’ve ruined a perfectly good page from the guestbook.
Did anyone else sign with their jobs? I didn’t see “THE ENGINEERS” or “THE RETIRED TEACHERS.” Did you?
It’s not like you left a name and number to drum up business from the sexually frustrated 70-something bed and breakfast set.
What compelled you to do this?
Oh, your last name is Hooker.
Make that a little more clear next time.
Love,
Will
Letters to the World – Day 27 – Dear Depressed People
Dear Depressed People,
STOP. Do not look at this picture. It might look like an ordinary piece of art from the back of a seaman’s closet, but it is best if you look away.
Okay, now that the depressed people aren’t looking, CHECK THIS OUT.
It is basically a guide on how to hang yourself with European style.
Can you say cool? I can. And once I’m done saying that, I’m going to tie myself a Spanish noose.
And then I’m going to research that sex game where teenagers asphyxiate themselves – to see if it started with sailors.
Then I’m going to make the noose designed for bowling.
What’s your favorite noose? Mine is the one at the bottom that kills Twins.
Love,
Will
Letters to the World – Day 26 – This Did Not Happen
THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.
Then why is their glitter all over my face / pants?
Why can’t I hear from my right ear, but have supersonic hearing in my left?
Why do I have an airplane ticket to Nepal in the pocket of my double-breasted blazer?
Where did I get a double-breasted blazer? (Update: Men’s Wearhouse.)
Why are their little people sleeping on fire hydrants in my living room?
Was the book Little Women about midgets?
When did my roommate get a dog?
Why does the dog only respond to the Belgian dominatrix in the kitchen?
Stop barking! Actually, here boy, come get this glitter off my pants.
Letters to the World – Day 25 – I Philosophize
Dear World,
Indulge me as I philosophize.
I caught myself staring into the sky last night, except instead of the sky, there were blue and green lights and it was snowing. And instead of snow, it was soap. Not bodywash soap, regular soap. But not completely regular, it was shaved into little pieces and floated down from God’s hands.
I thought about what this means and there is only one hypothesis: I somehow stole a dream from a cocaine addict. We never think about what it would be like to experience someone else’s dreams, except here I was, residing in someone else’s subconscious like a modern day Leonardo DiCaprio.
I don’t mean to sound racist, but I think it was a black person’s dream because it smelled like this guy I used to play tennis with, Chad, and I’m pretty sure it was a neighborhood I had never been to (Detroit??). Also, there was a black man sleeping outside my door in the morning. He probably stopped by during the night to demand his dream back.
Love,
Will
Letters to the World – Day 24 – Dude, Where’s My Car?
Dear World,
A-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Love,
Will
Letters to the World – Day 23 – Dear Taxi Drivers
Dear Taxis,
When you tell me to make something my “last call,” it sounds like I’m either about to go to jail or die. Also, I’ve seen the way kids these days operate, and no call from the bar is their last call. They are non stop sexting and booty-calling until their eyes force shut and they fall into an alcohol-induced slumber.
Now let’s discuss your business proposition. You are telling me that I am too stupid to figure out how to find a taxi for free, and I should pay you $1.29 to $1.79 for the service? That you are just a benevolent organization stopping people from drunk driving, yet charging $1.79 for something we can do for free?
Thanks but no thanks. I’m sticking with the advice on the sticker. Underground music WILL save the world.
Love,
Will
Letters to the World – Day 22 – KID JAIL
Today’s GUEST BLOG by Lil’ Tito Campeones
Dear World,
Yo, straight up, life on the streets is hard, k?
I been livin’ here at KID JAIL since I was five. That’s 17% of my life GONE.
The first time I got arrested I was four. I slapped my moms for actin’ a fool. Most parents would accept this as a normal four-year-old tantrum, but my moms called the cops. Also, she stabbed herself with a kitchen knife and laid on the floor in a pool of her own blood.
Now I’m here. You can see my homies up there. The big one is Juan. He’s five. The doctors say his mustache is unusual. I just think it’s funny cuz it looks like when Prince had that thin mustache in the 90s and everyone was like, “WTF, Prince?”
The other homie is Tim. Tim is eleven, which makes him the big dog here at Kid Jail. But Tim gots another thing comin’ when he hits real juvie next year. One day in the yard (pictured), Tim pooped his pants because he thought about his transfer. He says he regrets robbing the Costco down the street, and if he could get out, he would go back to being “normal – you know, playing video games, drinking Capri Suns.”
But in my book, once you’re a criminal, you’re a criminal for LIFE.
Love,
Lil’ Tito
Letters to the World – Day 21 – Saint Peter the Chef
Dear Danes,
Gather ‘round as I tell you the tale of…
SAINT** PETER THE CHEF
In the early 1990s, Denmark faced an unprecedented economic crisis. Its welfare state was crumbling and something needed to be done. (I’m not saying what, but maybe the Saunas For All program wasn’t the best government investment.)
Enter PETER THE CHEF. A jovial purveyor of baked goods, Chef Peter Rammstein won the title of Head of Central Bank in a lottery in late 1992. Unaccustomed to working with numbers beyond 13 (a baker’s dozen), Chef Peter set out to simplify his country’s economic system.
At that time, there were almost a million numbers beyond 13, so Chef Peter abolished them all. In his most famous speech he famously declared, “How can we be three trillion Kroner in debt if that number doesn’t exist?”
And guess what. It worked. When Chef Peter’s term expired in 1996, he retired to his bakery in Copenhagen to live a semi-hermitic lifestyle just off the Stroget.
**Although Chef Peter is still alive, and the population of Denmark is largely Protestant, the people of Denmark lied to the Pope in 2002 and got Chef Peter canonized as a saint. Many Danes were expected to turn out for the festivities, but instead remained at home due to the overall level of cleanliness in the Italian capital.
Love,
Will
