Tag Archives: open letter

Calling When I Say I Will

missed-call

I know I said I would call. You all but made me promise that I would. How could I say no? And it really isn’t work at all to pick up the phone and dial. I could do it while I walk home, or while I clean the dishes, or whenever. It is not a time thing. Anyone that says they don’t have time to call is either too poor to have a cell phone or completely full of shit. I just don’t want to talk to you. Sorry. I know how these things work. If I call, then invariably you will call me some other night, and I really do not want to hear about how your boss is a bitch, or how smart your cat is, or whatever else you think I would remotely care about.

And next time we run into each other, if you ask, I’ll say that it’s not you, that it’s me. This will be a lie. It is you. I just don’t want confrontation. I would rather things regress to awkwardness, than have to deal with them head on. Call me coward. Call me a caitiff. Call me a lying son-of-a-bitch. Just don’t call me. Please.

Jeff

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New Year’s Resolutions

January 2nd

Dear Everyone,

Your New Year’s resolution is dumb. Please stop trying to improve yourself; it is making me nauseous. The problem isn’t that you’re unattractive (well, at least not the main problem), or stupid (though that isn’t helping), or your crippling lack self-confidence (wait, who are you again?). The problem is that you are painfully boring. Remember, it is quite possible to lead a completely upstanding life, and never live a single day.

Wake up early, jog, eat breakfast, floss, say hi, and die. Have a job, wear your seatbelt, wait until marriage, look both ways, call her back when you say you will, and die. Count calories, wash your hands, watch your manners, buy insurance, jazzercise, and die. Smoke, drink, binge, purge, snort, shoot, fuck, speed, fight, shout, spit, and live. Care less, don’t plan, close your eyes while driving, dart across eight lanes of traffic, hit back, sleep for days, don’t sleep for days, forget when you last showered, and live. Of course, the more you live the sooner you die. Oh well.

Anyhow, if you still think self-improvement is a swell idea, don’t rule out self-destruction as the best way to get there. You want a packed funeral, right?

With much love,

Jeff

P.S. If you figure out how to get washboard abs, let me know.