Open Letter Posts
An Open Letter To Tostitos Scoops
Dear Tostitos Scoops,
I apologize for the tardiness of my letter, as I realize you’ve been on the market for the last few years. But as I’m sitting here tonight, enjoying my friend’s homemade salsa, I’m wondering how the hell anyone ever ate salsa (or any dips) before you came along?
I know that flat tortilla chips are still made, but I shudder to think what kind of child-molesting cretin would even bother with those flat bitches? Flatties don’t hold a candle to your voluptuous curves that envelope a dip like an old lover in a tender embrace. You not only hold my salsa with confidence, but you ensure that every last bit of it makes it to my mouth and not my shirt. Your shape reminds me of the cradle used to hold the blessed baby Jesus. And when food resembles a religious figure, you know it’s going to be delicious. God bless the person who created you! There’s a special place in heaven for this tortilla chip saint.
Keep On Scooping,
Brooke Amanda
An Open Letter To Taylor Swift
Dear Taylor Swift,
Let’s have a chat. You are one of the few young singers today who doesn’t make my ears explode when I hear one of your songs. You are a genuinely talented singer/songwriter/musician and on top of that, you seem like a really sweet girl. So why, why, why are you starting to hang around one of the biggest pieces of shit walking the earth right now?!
I just saw a picture of you and colossal dick worm, John Mayer, cozying up to one another the other night in Nashville. NOOOOOO! Taylor, do you not read any of his press?! He is a self-absorbed, narcissistic prick. He is TROUBLE with a capital Douche! He will take your good girl virginal ass and tear you up! By all accounts, he likes to come in through the back door and leave you with a golden shower…if you know what I mean.
SPRINT away from this dick worm as fast as you can and do not look back. Your mother should be throwing a chastity belt on your ass ASAP and taking you into the witness protection program for a while until he finds his next victim. I will be holding a candle light vigil in your honor tonight in the hopes you come out of all this still pure and unscathed.
Keep those legs crossed,
Brooke Amanda
An Open Letter To Kate Gosselin
Kate, Kate, Kate…who the hell talked you into getting this abomination? Your weave looks about as real as my Malibu Barbie’s tits. Why do you need a makeover, anyway? I say, “Embrace you inner bitch!” Buzz that shit off and go hardcore! Maybe juice things up with a few strategically placed piercings. Can we say “post divorce tat?”
Hey, it’s not your fault your ex-husband was a worthless loser. You were the backbone of that marriage! Without you, that fat ass has gone back to smoking, lost his job, had his apartment vandalized and surely caught a slew of STD’s by now.
Kate, you just keep your head up and shout from the rooftops, “I’m a bitch and proud of it!” A REAL man will be able to appreciate you and your former reverse-mullet.. Now do me a favor and get that thing cut out of your hair before it becomes a tangled rat’s nest…oh, too late.
Snip snip,
Brooke Amanda
Read “An Open Letter To Kate Gosselin’s Weave” Over At The Open Letters Blog! Yeah, I felt so passionate about this topic I wrote TWO letters about it.
An Open Letter To Charlie Sheen
Dear Charlie,
Hey man, how’s it going? I’m guessing not well based on the fact you got your ass arrested and thrown in jail on Christmas for allegedly holding a knife to your wife’s throat and threatening to kill her. Ouch. I understand that your baby momma was legally drunk at 8:30 in the morning (CLASSY) and probably had it coming, but still… this is getting embarrassing.
Charlie, I think you just need to stop getting married and stop procreating. Do you really need to be populating the planet with your crazy genes?! You already had THREE kids by two previous women and you really felt the need to have twins with this crazy bitch, who by the way has my same name? Don’t think for a second I’m not pissed that Brooke Mueller is desecrating the name Brooke for all of us!
Why don’t you just concentrate on your acting career, which right now consists solely of “Two And A Half Men,” and help that kid who plays your nephew slim down the chunk because he is getting FAAAAT. Maybe help your dad, Martin, do some political stuff or help your brother, Emilio, find ANY sort of an acting role since I don’t think I’ve seen him on film since “The Mighty Ducks.” I know you can do it , Charlie! I have faith in you!
Stay Away From Those Crazy Bitches,
Brooke Amanda
An Open Letter To Holiday Shoppers
Dear Holiday Shopper:
Well hello there! I haven’t seen you since last Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, or whatever holiday brings you into my store at this magical time of year. You are not my regular customer, who knows our products and where to find them like the back of their hand. No, you are coming into my store to buy a gift for our loyal shoppers. You look weary, you have a list in your hand, painstakingly written with all the goodies you need to buy your loved ones so they think you care. And that’s where I come in… to help you make the perfect purchase. But let me give you some tips so we can all make this process a little smoother.
Number one, I am NOT your personal shopper. Yes, I will show you where to find the right product, but you are not the only customer in my store. That means I have to help EVERYONE, not just you. You are perfectly capable of picking up a product and seeing how much it costs. Please don’t just point to product after product and ask me how much it is. You are also capable of smelling all the products for yourself. I DO NOT need to open every bottle of lotion we sell and hold it up to your nose. Are your hands broken? I think not.
Number two, if you are going to come to the mall on a Saturday, please think of your fellow shoppers and leave your kids at home. DO NOT bring a giant stroller into our already crowded store, then get pissed that you can’t easily maneuver it around. That is YOUR problem, not ours. Also, no one wants to hear your baby screaming. Holiday shopping is already tense enough without adding ear-piercing shrieks to the mix. Try picking your child up and comforting them, instead of just ignoring their cries for help.
Number three, PAY WITH CASH, CREDIT OR DEBIT. DO NOT WRITE CHECKS! They take too much time to write and there is a line piling up behind you. If you must write a check, start filling it out while I’m ringing everything up. Do not aimlessly stare at me, wait to hear the total, THEN get your damn checkbook out. It’s the little things people!!! Am I asking too much?!
Number four, when there is only a week left until Christmas DO NOT get mad at me because we are sold out of something. It’s not my fault that everyone else was more organized than you and actually bought their presents in a timely manner. You also don’t need to tell me to order more, because that’s not at all how our system works. We don’t “order” anything, dumbass. Oh, and guess what? The point of having seasonal products is so that we sell out of them before Christmas. Duh! Maybe I’ll come to your place of business sometime and tell you how to run things…does that sound like fun? No? THEN SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
Number five, my store is not your house. Please put things back where they belong. I am not your mother or your maid. Thank you.
Above all else, be nice to me and my staff. As tired and grumpy as you may be running around and dealing with last minute Christmas shopping, remember that we have been dealing with THOUSANDS of crazed customers for the last month. We’ve been on our feet, working extended hours, dealing with hundreds of boxes of shipment, making complicated schedules, training dozens of new associates and all the while doing it with a smile on our faces (however fake and forced those smiles may be by now). Remember folks, kindness is the only thing you don’t have to pay for this holiday season.
Let’s just get through this next week, okay?
Sincerely,
Brooke Amanda
Dear Funky-Facts,
Dear Funky Facts,
Stop going around giving me and my blogging posse frownie faces on Humor-Blogs.com. Since you’re only 17 years old, I’ll be nice because MAYBE you don’t realize how this whole blogging thing works. First of all, if you want people to read your blog (and in case you didn’t know, 99% of people who read blogs are your fellow bloggers) you need to create a postive relationship with us. Which means, you DO NOT give frownie faces to blog posts that are actually very funny. If you don’t like them, just don’t do anything…it’s that simple. But don’t be a douche and give a frownie face because that actually deducts point from a post. This is your warning…trust me, you don’t want me to sic my blogging bitch Queenie on you. I’m pretty sure she makes grown men cry and would make you shit yourself. So…just stop what you’re doing and we’ll be cool, kepeesh?
Don’t Be A Dick,
Brooke Amanda
Dear Spring,
Dear Spring,
Where the hell are you?! Maybe you’ve graced other parts of the country with your presence, but not Illinois. It’s the end of April and I still have my electric blanket on my bed. How messed up is that? You teased all of us in March with a few nice days and even the beginning of the month was nice. I moved all my plants out to my balcony. Well, guess what? THEY’RE ALL FUCKING DEAD NOW!
I know what you’re up to, Spring. You did this to us last year, too. You got lazy, probably started drinking again and you forgot to do your job. One day it was winter and the next it was 90 degrees. Yeah, that’s right, we went straight into summer. I swear on all the is holy & pure that you better get your godamn act together and not pull this shit twice in a row. I want sunny, mid-70’s weather pronto. I am still WAY to pale to rock out shorts yet.
Don’t Make Me Hurt You,
Brooke Amanda
Dear Aunt Flo
Dear Aunt Flo,
Bitch, where the hell have you been the last two weeks?! I’m just going along, thinking everything is fine and dandy, expecting you any minute and then…nothing. I start to freak out, think maybe my “pull out and pray” method of birth control is perhaps not the most effective for a single girl to be using. You even made me go so far as to look up “early signs of pregnancy” on Web MD! Aunt Flo, you had me thinking about my future, picking out cribs online, thinking about how I would have to turn my guest room into a nursery. You made me have the “awkward talk” with the prospective baby daddy about a possible bun in the oven.
And, FINALLY, you show up all late and totally unapologetic. You also brought with you an uninvited guest, PMS. She’s a real bitch. She makes me want to cry and rip someone’s face off all at the same time. I swear to God, Aunt Flo, the next time you put me through something like this, we’re finished. I’m scheduling a hysterectomy and getting all my lady parts removed so you can’t fuck with me anymore. Either that, or I better be preggers cause if I’m going through all that stress, I’m getting a cute baby out of it. Oh, and you better stop by the store cause I’m all out of tampons.
Feeling crampy,
Brooke Amanda
Dear Miley
Put Your Fucking Shirt Down!
Dear Miley,
Why the fuck are you EVERYWHERE? How do I even know who you are? I thought I was done with your hillbilly family after your dad’s incredibly annoying “Achy Breaky Heart” finally faded away. But no, he had an ace in his pocket (or should I say his sperm) when you were born. I first remember hearing about you because my nephew had a crush on your ass a few years ago. That’s when you were better known as “Hannah Montana” and hadn’t yet blossomed into the full-blown whore you are now.
At first, I thought, “What a cute kid. She’s funny and she can sing, too.” Then, almost overnight, you turned into this big-lipped 16 year old slut who’s fucking a 20 year old. Hmm, do you still wear your purity ring? I’m thinking that’s a big “hell no” since the last pics I saw of you were not so pure. You had on a wet, white t-shirt with a bikini top underneath and you were helping your fuck buddy “wash” his car. I’m just curious, aren’t you a millionare? Couldn’t you PAY someone to wash the damn car? Or did you just want to get some wet t-shirt pics into all the tabloids?
I also think you’re a spoiled brat. You had the audacity to invade the most sacred of all award ceremonies, The Golden Globes. While Ryan Seacrest was interviewing you on the red carpet, you bitched about having to drive your mom’s hand-me-down Porsche. Oh, you poor thing! A USED Porsche! How ever will you live down the humiliation of coking it up with all the other Mickey Mouse Channel child stars in your piece of shit Porsche? I’m so embarrassed for you. I wonder what other atrocities you have to put up with on a daily basis.
I can’t wait until five years from now when you will either be a complete washed up has been ala your daddy or just another strung out drug addicted child star ala Lindsey Lohan. You better get knocked up soon so you too can have a dynamic kid just like yourself and ride their coat tails when you’re forty… and the tale of the Cyrus family saga continues.
P.S.- I hope you and your loser best friend read this and then make fun of it on your super cool YouTube broadcasts. They are not dumb, lame, or mindnumbing to watch whatsoever.
Hope this makes you cry,
Brooke Amanda
An Open-Letter To Dunkin’ Donuts
Dear Dunkin’ Donuts,
First off, let me congratulate you on making a coffee that is so highly addictive, I would be scared to drink it while pregnant for fear my children will be low birth weight and go through withdrawls. But the real reason I’m writing this letter is to nominate your employee, Gene, for “Employee of The Month.” Gene works the drive-thru window at my local Dunkin’ Donuts and can recognize my voice instantly. That means either he has a really good ear, or I go to your establishment way too fucking much.
Our exchange every morning goes something like this:
Gene: “Welcome to Dunkin’ Donuts. May I take your order?”
Me: “Yes, I’d like a large coffee with cream and sugar, please.”
Gene: “And a ham, egg, and cheese on an English muffin?”
Me: “Yes, please.” I don’t have the heart to special order it because I haven’t eaten pork since I was 14. I just don’t want to ruin our banter. I throw the ham away when I get to work. Plus, I kind of like the hammy flavor it leaves.
Gene: “Okay Brooke. See you at the window.”
It’s like he knows my soul! What a phenomenal guy! On a side note, I have no idea what ethnicity Gene is. Maybe Filipino? He has a definite accent and an interesting look that I just can’t place. And I highly doubt Gene is his real name. I’m sure he had to Americanize it for “the man” and I think that shows a great team spirit as well. He could be the manager someday! Gene is a definite keeper and I would promote him through the Dunkin’ Donuts ranks as quickly as possible. Maybe he could even star in your next commercial. Just a thought.
Keep making your crack coffee,
Brooke Amanda
