Tuesday, December 30, 2008

An Open Letter

Dear 75% Of The Property Owners Residing On Belleview Place Between Oakland and Downer Avenues*,


Unscientific Breakdown of Area Residents:
College students who just want to be able to get to their cars - 65%
Old folks who remember when stuff you used to be here that isn't here anymore - 15%
Residents of peculiar passion, ie. 'crazy people' - 10%
Bohemians (who really like coffee) - 4%
Fish & Game - 4%
Fairy folk (these may just be children) - 2%
Note: Fish & Game and Fairy folk/possible children have in the past voted as a bloc to hedge out Bohemians.


I hope this letter finds you well. Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas? Hannukah? Kwanzaa? Heathen Tree Renewal Day? The Sun God Festival? Deep Atheistic Sighing Day?*2

I'm writing this morning to apprise you of my own Christmas wish. Namely that you get off your ham/turkey/tofu/tofurkey/latke/no longer bleating, sacrificed goat-eating*3 asses and salt your sidewalks.

It's true, we have had two consecutive days without measurable snowfall. However, melting snow combined with overnight freezing temperatures creates icy patches the likes of which could lead to people (even he-man types like myself) looking like uncoordinated dorks and breaking their ass bones. While the merits of salting to get rid of ice can be debated by the greatest minds of SCIENCE, the traction afforded by little crystalized particles CANNOT. I'm not going to debate you, East Side.


True, this is not the stretch of sidewalk in question, but it illustrates my point better, so you're going to have to fool yourself into believing it is. Or is the magic gone from your life?


No, the time for debate is over. Now it's time for taint punches for the unwilling and less powerful taint punches for the unable.*4 Unless you've got some iron underwear, you best get salting.*5


What's worse? Chafing or a bruised undercarriage?



* A small percentage of the interweb's constituency, but a vital one for my nefarious purposes. A seven block stretch at six in the morning, with little light, seems like the expanse of the world on four hours sleep.

*2 I'm going to assume you did because I have no way of asking each of you individually, and truth be told, don't really care. It's a pleasantry to ask, nothing more.

*3 While this list is not all-encompassing as to the options available to you for celebratory dinners, if you ate anything else, you are probably a shifty loner who deserves scorn. Don't like it? Get on board the approved food train.

*4 Sorry, invalids. I've got to keep it fair.

*5 I know not everyone received the gift of iron underwear this year, but I can't resist boasting about mine.

4 comments:

Albone said...

East side assholes need to get their shit together, you lazy miserable fucks. There's a few salt eating douches over on the south side that could use some tainting wrecking.

Tracie said...

Perhaps a kind message written with urine on the fresh white snow would serve to remind these lazy, sorry medalists in the douche bag olympics how to clean up the sidewalks. Or would that make the iron underwear rust?

Justin Riley said...

I wouldn't be as worried about rust as exposure to the unfriendly winds. If all goes wrong I could end up with both urine blowback and frostbite of a most delicate nature.

Urine, while a powerful messenger, is not the way to go in this instance. But, rest assured, if anybody does anything I don't like when the weather is warmer, it's on.

carl hoffman said...

The sorry mofos who own the lot on the northeast corner of Stowell & Webster need to get their shiznit together & clear those walks too. I've almost broken my assbone there about nine times this week.