Letters to Fictional People

Has it really been three days since I posted? Where o' where has the time gone?

I'm still ass-deep in alligators...but I keep bashing the fuckers on the nose and they're starting to chill out. It looks like I might be out of here at 3:00 tomorrow (our deadline!) after all--yaw-freakin'-hee!!!!

I'm planning on a nice gooey post w/pictures (if I haven't offended the blogger gods too much) sometime this weekend, but in the meantime I've been thinking about letters to Santa. It was never a tradition at our house--which is too bad, because I think writing letters to fictional people is a lot of fun...and to that end, I've got a couple of letters I"ve been composing in my head over this past week. I thought I'd share:


To the Parole Officer of that poor kid in my 5th period class--

Dear sir,

I understand that you are trying hard and zealously to keep the world safe from spacey young men with an IQ of my scrawny four-year-old's weight, but is it really necessary to pull J out three days a week for a drug test? The kid is homeless, hungry, broke, and not particularly bright, for heaven's sake, if he's got the cash to do weed, by all means, let brother do a little weed because if anybody needs a break from reality, it's this poor boy who wouldn't harm a fly because he wouldn't think to catch it. Send him some food and a clean sweater, but stop making him go crosstown to piss in a cup during my fifth period class.

Thank you so much,
Amy Lane

And while I've got the attention of the local police force--

To all parole officers everywhere-
Gentlemen,

While I again, acknowledge that you are trying to do your jobs, if there is any possible way for you to stop cracking down on the thugs with the 2% in my class during finals week, I would be so damned grateful I don't think I could express it in words. Seriously--this kid hasn't been to my class all semester, I've got a room full of kids who have a snowball's chance in a cheap freezer, and your problem has just become their problem in a big way. Have a seminar, do a camp out, make them shine Santa's gnarly boots--something, anything, but stuff them in a room with people who can actually read and have some hope...pretty pretty pretty please?

Thank you so very much,
Amy Lane


And on the subject of common sense--

To the young man who rode his bike in the dark across the overpass crosswalk against traffic while I was looking over my left shoulder to see if I could turn right against the light--

I almost killed you. Because of you, I will drop dead five years to the day before my husband, and my four year old has another reason to shock the relatives with another fun term that rhymes with SMOLY TRUCK!!! Get some goddamned reflectors, learn some traffic laws and get your ass home before it gets dark or your life expectancy is even worse than mine, you moron.

I mean that sincerely
Amy Lane


And now, on a lighter note...

Dear Jensen Ackles and Jared Padilecki--

You are both dear sweet boys and talented actors, but if you insist upon invading my dreams, I would prefer you invade my night time REM sleep wherein I am eighteen, nubile, and single. Thank you both, and I'll see you both tonight...no, no, not one at a time. Both of you will be fine. Thanks so much again.

Amy Lane


And since we're talking about romance...


To the paper towel dispenser in the G-wing bathroom--

Is it really necessary that I buy you flowers, chocolates, and massage oils in order to get you to put out? Seriously, I spend more time romancing a cheap piece of plastic with bad gears than I do seducing my own husband--for craps sake, either give up the ghost of the horny old bastard that possesses you or fall off the goddamned wall!!!

Thanks so much
Amy Lane



*whew*! Glad I got that all off my chest...I might have to write a few more of those later...in the meantime, may the holidays be merry, bright and pretty. We're going to look for Christmas lights tomorrow night--too much fun for both short people and tall people alike. Hot chocolate, carols on the ipod, et. al:-)