Dear HisMotherBitch,

What kind of a mother tells her own son, via text msg of all means, that she wants nothing more to do with him?

I depise my father's side of the family, and you're one of the many reasons, you arrogant bitch.

Wanting your head to meet a brick very quickly,
Poor art student
P.S: Actually, you don't qualify as a mother, sorry, I'm revoking that title. D: 

Dear Russell T. Davies,

YOU'RE ON NOTICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Signed,
A very worried Dr. Who fan.

Dear Writers Block,

Stop it. Go away. I'm off from school until the 20th, I don't need this shit.

Dear School,

I hate you. I was off a point and a half towards the Dean's List. Fuck

Dear Self.

Crying doesn't look good on you.

Come on, four more days, and then we can start smiling again.
Let's try to get better, eh? Don't end this shitty year on an even shittier note.

Yours truly.
Yourself.

Dear writer's block,

Please go away. I have so many fics and stories I want to write, but you're preventing them from existing!

No love,
Pissed off writer wannabe

----

Dear cold,

Like the writer's block, please go away. I hate not being able to smell, or not being able to sleep because I'm coughing so much it hurts after a while.

Or at least take my voice away for a while so I don't have to take orders at work.

Again no love,
Me

----

Dear coworker,

Don't brag about your mother suing the company you currently work for over something she should've known anyway. It makes your mom look like an ass and you look like one as well when you boast about how much money you got for suing the company because there was no warning on the container that the food inside was hot. It's because of morons like YOU that we need those warnings!

Very much hate,
Your irritated coworker

P.S. Yes, I was calling your mom stupid.

----

Dear cats,

Just because a door is open does not mean you have to go in/through it. Especially if said door leads to the inside of the dryer, where I'm about to toss a load of laundry.

Some love,
Your human mommy

----
ETA:

Dear people who can't seem to read signs,

See the 'Do Not Enter' sign? Yeah, that means 'do not enter'. Don't enter the area it's posted in front. Know why? You might get hit by a car trying to get in the spot you're trying to leave from. Also, see the 'Exit' sign just past the 'Do Not Enter' sign? Yeah, that's the exit.

At least 20 of you do this EVERY SINGLE DAY. Makes me wonder how you passed the driving test(s).

No love,
The girl who works at the restaurant whose parking lot you're driving the wrong way through

Dear period,

Stop existing. Failing that, stop happening every two weeks. Something tells me you shouldn't be occurring this frequently, anyway. I'd also appreciate it if you stopped throwing killer cramps my way every time, too.

Unfortunately yours,
a disgruntled girl.
---

Dear gingerbread house,

Don't make me sneak out into the kitchen to eat you. If I do that, I'll be up all night, and I need sleep, damnit! So stop tempting me with your sugary goodness!

Resisting 'till the very end,
a girl with a massive sweet tooth.

Dear Society,

I am not fat. My friends are not fat and neither is my mother and neither are my aunts. Between the lot of us, we cover sizes 00 to size 14. And do you know why we even have the 00 in this range? It's because many of us have or had eating disorders. Bulimia, anorexia, and compulsive exercising abound. But guess what, I am beautiful. My friends are beautiful. My mother and her sisters are beautiful. Stop telling us otherwise. Fuck you. If I want to eat over Christmas Break, I can. I should not be made to feel bad for having curves. Why are your beauty standards so fucked up?! I have news for you, bodies come in all shapes and sizes and they are all perfectly okay.

Piss Off,
The Angry Academic Bitch Who Is Currently Fighting Not to Restrict

Dear Cider,

Oh you are so very tasty, and cheap, satisfying all my needs as an alcoholic art student. But, what is this?! I've put on half a stone since being away at uni for 3 months?! This simply won't do my lovely cider. I think we may need to part ways for a few months so I can work off all those calories and then enjoy you as a treat after some stressful projects.

2010 - now The Year of Good Health.
Poor art student

Dear back,

Stop hurting. I'm not old. I just knit a lot. Please stop making me take so long to complete Christmas gifts for everyone. I'm just a poor graduate student who wants her friends to have nice gifts. Didn't think gifts = back ache.

Unhappy,

A Wingless Caveman.

Dear pillows,

You are so small you are doing nothing to alleviate my back pain. This is uncool. In fact, you spread the pain out by only supporting small portions of my back. I feel like pins and needles are stabbing me. I'm totally replacing you with the larger ones my sister took from this couch when she vacuumed.

Unamused,

A Wingless Caveman.

Dear mom,

To burn a CD, the first thing you do is insert a blank CD into the computer. Then instructions pop up on the screen as to how you can transfer data onto the CD.

Sometimes, your failure to use technology is adorable.

Love you,

your daughter, who knows how to burn a CD.

P.S. I can't believe I also had to walk you through the instructions that popped up on the screen. Really?

Dear partner,

Stop philosophizing about part II of my Christmas gift. You already bought me a crap ton of -SUPER- expensive gifts that really aren't being used/eaten (one part is candy.) So wait until my birthday to give me this part!

Stop worrying about how good the gift is. I love you. Unless you are extremely offensive, I'll like it. Love does that to people.

Shaking her head in confusion,

A Wingless Caveman.

I understand that you were upset about the smartass remark I made. All things considered, you'd had it coming, for as often as you pick on me.

Thing is, when someone has a problem with me, I expect them to show some backbone, and speak up. You sat on your anger with me for 6 months, before finally bringing it up tonight, after being set off by something entirely unrelated.

Next time, show a little backbone, you passive-agressive ass.


Only a little love,

Your retarded stepson

Dear Dad & Brother,

I knew last night that you needed me up before 11:00 am today to feed Buddy. You know that I can't move or speak upon first waking -- hell, I can barely breathe upon first waking -- yet you both decided to treat me like I was the scum of the earth for not bouncing right up and being all sunshine and flowers for you. I was able to manage a sound at least, which should have told you that I was awake. I don't much mind that you were annoyed with me. I understand that. What I don't understand is why you would leave without so much as acknowledging me with a "goodbye". You weren't in too much of a hurry to shout "Goodbye! I love you! See you later!" to our aunt three times, so why didn't you say it to me? That hurt me, especially (not) coming from you, Brother Dear, given how close we are. To top it off, you hung up on me when I called you back (even though you decided to call me every two minutes to make sure I was awake for your precious lizard) which hurt me even more. Just so you know, I did feed Buddy and I cleaned up his shit, which you neglected to tell me was there.

Love, but also lots of hurt,
Your son & older brother.

Dear mom,

Why did you have to make me watch Blink on the night I have to be up at five in the morning?

Loved the episode, but AAHHHHHHH!!!,
your daughter
---
Dear brain,

The Weeping Angels are not real. Stop trying to convince me they are. Even if they were real, the Doctor tricked them so they can't come to life again.

They're not going to come get me in my sleep. I will not open my eyes to see one or more in front of my face. I won't run into one waiting for me by the laundry room if I get up to go to the bathroom.

They're. Not. Real. Stop. It.

No love right now,
The nervous girl with the runaway imagination
---
ETA one more

Dear people saying "Well it's not like they KILL you."

OH YEAH, because getting sucked out of your own time and being dropped all alone and far away from everybody and everything that you knew with little to know chance of contacting your own time is SO much fucking better.

Jerks,
a cranky, underslept Doctor Who fan who's still scared of the Weeping Angels.

i_hope_that
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Dear Dad:

Why do you have to be such a jackass and ruin everything? Why can't you email me and say "hey I can't wait to see you on Christmas Eve!" instead of saying something that makes me NOT WANT TO SEE YOU AT ALL. Do you not understand that by being a prick, that makes me want to stay away? And can you please just own up to the fact that you are the one who screwed up this relationship. Things will never be better until you admit your failures as a father. And also, why is it always my fault that we go months without speaking? If I remember correctly, you know how to use a computer and a phone as well. You are the parent here, you are supposed to want to talk to your daughter. It's not fair for you to do this to me. I did nothing wrong. Stop making it seem like I did.

Love,
Your only child.

Dear sister,

I know you just moved back in. I know you're still trying to get everything situated. But, you brought a dog here. AND we picked up your son today. You think you could, maybe, I don't know, actually BE HOME to take care of said things? Maybe THIS is the reason you don't have your son back. You finally get to see him, and what do you do? Go pick up your stupid boyfriend and take hours doing it. The boyfriend that doesn't even NEED to be coming over here in the first place. And don't even dare asking if you two can sleep in my bed, because it's 'bigger'. I will bitchslap you back 23 years into our mother's womb.


Much disgust,
Your sister.




Dear T,

YOU DO NOT NEED A FUCKING GUY TO BE HAPPY. Stop with all your whining.

- A.

Dear postal service,
Screw you.
Do you have ANY idea how crazy I'm going? I cried last night over my FUTURE.
I NEVER WORRY ABOUT MY FUTURE
I JUST ATE TWO CONSOLOANCE MINCE PIES AND NOW I FEEL SICK.
You even made e question my relationship which is an entirely different matter and none of your business quite frankly.
Now I know it takes a long tim to get mail out here to Middle Earth but you've had the whole weekend to get your act together so I'm not playing nice anymore.
I want that letter and I want it now.

No love
Disgruntled middle-of-nowhere-resident

Dear NDU
Please like me.
Please have sent me that letter. Or just sent it late.
You said you wanted to see me next year. So where is it?
I know I said I didn't care where I went, but now all I want is you.
I don't know how to fight for anything else.
Love?
Terrified Student-Nobody

Dear World,

Stop fucking with me, okay? And stop upsetting my fiancé. Just go about your business and leave us the fuck alone.

No love,
That one guy you seem intent on screwing over.

----

Dear Brittany Murphy,

So, you're dead now. Why? My fiancé liked you, and now he's upset because you're dead.

RIP,
The intended of one of your fans.

Attention Wal Mart Shoppers:

"PLEASE TAKE TWO MINUTES OUT OF YOUR IMPORTANT SCHEDULE TO RETURN SHOPPING CARTS TO THE PROPER RECEPTACLE. DO NOT LEAVE FIVE OR TEN SHOPPING CARTS IN EVERY FIFTH PARKING STALL. FOR GOD'S SAKE. IS IT THAT HARD TO WALK TEN STEPS TO THE SHOPPING CART AREA? THANKS, AND HAVE A NICE DAY. YOU LAZY PRICKS."

I understand you're trying to help and that your opinions are actually good sometimes, but please stop judging me.

My hair got destroyed because of a sister in beauty school and a screeching bitch of a mother demanding I be blonde. After 5 rounds of bleaching, I'm happy I have hair left. However, I don't want to be a blonde. I look ridiculous with my natural color. I understand that women pay hundreds of dollars every month to get my natural color, but it's those women that make me not want to be blonde.

But anyway, I'm sick of walking in there and you telling me how shitty my hair is and how awful i look. Or that I buy four different hair dyes. Or that my dye job just won't turn out until I buy a special conditioner, a filler prep, a protein pack, a protein filler, a placenta treatment, a keratin re builder and other various goos that you insist I need the extra large bottle for. Why can you help me pick out 90 different protein/conditioning/prep potions but you can't tell me which hair dye is semi permanent?

Also, stop looking at my hair like it's a freaking car accident and repeating "it's really damaged." I get that. No one knows that more than I do, so stop. I had to start buying box dye from the grocery store because I'm just so sick of you telling me how horrific my hair is. My hair is a sensitive subject, I didn't do this to myself, and I don't want to be walking into a store where 3-5 people are just constantly telling me what a damaged mess my hair is.

No love,

girl who has to go in there today for goo.