Memoranda

To: Fellow neighbors on Wisteria Lane
From: Mild-Mannered Lady Who Does Her Best to Keep to Herself
Re: I have apparently found my breaking point

So, I don't say anything when your pot and/or cigarette smoke drifts over the fence and through my open windows. Or when you decide that the thing to do at 12:30 AM is to throw yourself, cannonball-style, into your pool, whooping when you hit the water. Or when your garage band practices and one of the guitarists (because you need more than one when all your "band" seems to play is the same section of Steely Dan over and over...) is flat, seriously flat -- to the point that I, a non-musician, cringe pretty regularly at the dissonance. It's all part of living in a community. Or something.

But I am not kidding when I say this -- turn down the freaking Nickelback. I can't make you turn it off completely, I don't guess, and I can't blame you for wanting to blast music while you're composting your plants or cleaning your pool or whatever, but if you continue to bombard your general vicinity that faux rock music after the sun goes down, I guess we'll see what our little suburb's noise ordinances specify about appropriate times of day and decibel levels. Because aside from being clear about the depravity of my sin and my complete reliance on Christ to pay the price for it, I am also pretty clear about music. And Nickelback? No. Just -- no.

To: Boo
From: The Human You Barely Tolerate Who Feeds and Houses You
Re: It's me or the vet -- you make the call


Cat litter? In your eyes? Both of them at the same time? How did you do this? And why won't you let me get it all out so you can see and/or not get some sort of really gross infection?

And while we're at it -- stop growling at me. Honestly.

To: CNN
From: Frequent viewer
Re: All sizzle, no steak

Your new fangled high def studio makes me dizzy. It's oddly open and the camera crews following the "talent" around are really distracting and the new graphics packages often contain misspelled words or are incorrectly punctuated.

You've got too many things going on, and too few of them are news.