Open Letter to the Producers of Mamma Mia! The Movie:

Dear Benny, Bjorn, Gary, Tom, and Rita,

Thank you for making a film version of ‘Mamma Mia!’ the story of a plucky young lady and her sassy mother who find ways to express themselves through song, specifically the songs of ABBA.

I will admit, I haven’t been a huge ABBA fan throughout my whole life, saving most of my heart for Led Zeppelin, Jack Johnson, Tom Petty, and Sublime, but after this weekend ABBA burst into my heart with their sparkly jumpsuits and catchy songs and hip bumped them out of contention.

So, thank you for that. Thank you very much. I really mean it. I do, I do, I do, I do.

Love,
Liz

Open Letter to Mark McGwire

Dear Mr McGwire,

Your time may have come and gone but what is with the spelling of your name? Where the hell does that ‘w’ come from? Your name is a Celtic name, prominent in Fermanagh, yet there is no ‘w’ in the Celtic world. You’ve butchered the Maguire name!

Why can’t you be more like Tobey or, to a lesser extent, Jerry?  Are you on drugs or something?!

Yours truly,

Fermanagh Area Residents Committee (FARC)

PS This FARC is not be confused with the FARC in Colombia
PPS McGuire is also acceptable

Open Letter to the Huge Conglomerate that Employs Me

To Whom it may concern:
Give me my money.  And give it to me now.  Or I will hunt you down and it won’t be pretty.

From,

Liz

An Open Letter to CERN Scientists from the Son of God

Hey Guys-

It’s me. Don’t turn this thing on.

I’ll be back later, see you then.

-Jesus

An Open Letter to My Dad

Dear Dad,

Thank you for instilling in me an innate ability to always be ahead of fashion trends. For example, because of your headstrong dedication to only taking me clothes shopping at Sears & Roebuck when I was younger, I was at least a year in front of the grunge-inspired flannel craze in 8th grade. And when hiking boots are finally realized as the hottest items to wear around town, I’ll be able to sit back once again and say, “Been there. Done that.”

Love,

Your Son

Open Letter to Spanish Students

Dear Spanish Students,

We meet again. Every July for the past couple of decades we’ve hosted your visits. Your parents claim that you are sent over here to learn English. In reality it’s because they’ve realised they’ve created a monster and think you should be shipped overseas.

Every July you seem to get noisier and more ignorant. So much so that our own streetkids are being outdone and being made to feel inadequate. Who do you think you are undermining our indigenous kids in their unique beige Nike sportswear and fabulous mullets? They’re not Incas so stop the oppression!

Can you also please tell us why 13 year old Latinos are going around wearing aviator sunglasses? This is Ireland where the sun hasn’t been experienced since the Great Day of ‘64. Are these kids trying to be some sort of Johnny Knoxville, or should we say, Juanny Knoxvilla? Because that was 2001, amigos.

We see you’ve also inspired Italian kids to come over here too. We’re as open-minded as the next people but do we really need another bunch of loud-mouthed self-obsessed prima donnas? Why couldn’t you inspire a different race to come over here to learn English instead? Like the Scandanivans. Or the Welsh.

In this age of the internets and information superautobahns I don’t think there’s any requirement for your summer visits any more. Babelfish will teach you English. Failing that, you can always pick it up from the Police Academy movies.

Signed,

The People of Dublin

Open Letter to WBOS

Dear Radio 92.9 WBOS,

On my rides to and fro work, I’ve noticed that you’re stepping things up with a more alternative sound. You’re keeping one hand on your old Peter Gabriel classics, and reaching out to new worlds of rock. Plus, you seem to be the only station that plays Silversun Pickups. You’ve always kept your fingers on the pulse of new music… and now you’re getting a harder edge. And I like that. And do you know what, Radio 92.9 WBOS? I like YOU.

Sincerely,

Molly

An Open Letter to Irish Air Passengers

Dear fellow Aer Lingus passenger,

If they call Rows 16-29 for boarding and you have a seat in Row 1-15 then get the feck out of the queue! Your ignorance, selfishness and downright ugliness makes a mockery of the system. You have a seat number so why panic by queueing and blocking all us Johnnie Row 27s from boarding? Is it a terriotrial thing? Do you lift up your leg and pee to mark your spot? I hope turbulence spills coffee all over your aran sweater.

The first 15 rows have made a very powerful enemy.

Sincerely,

Simon

Open Letter to the Herald AM Guy

Dear Herald AM Guy,

You are usually perched at the bottom of the Sean O’Casey bridge linking City Quay with Custom House Quay, eagerly handing out free copies of Herald AM to pedestrians headed to work.  And usually every morning I am there to take one and you go out of your way to hand it to me because you can spot me from a mile away.  It is always a highlight of the walk.  It’s between a friendly face or seeing the judgemental glances from other lady commuters as they size up my outfit choice and jacket (Marmot rain jacket – I’m always prepared).  The friendly face wins every time.

You were not there today, Herald AM guy.  I had to grab a Metro, which I will say, is far superior to the Herald AM on the basis that is prints ‘Letters to the Metro’ every day.  But I grab the Herald AM anyway so you don’t feel left out.  And because you’re very friendly.

I’m sure most people don’t even realize that you’re not there, but I do.  I hope you are okay.

From,

The lady who wears a black Marmot rain jacket, wears sunglasses on cloudy days, listens to her iPod, and says ‘Good morning’ every morning.

An open letter to Luigi’s

Dear Luigi’s,

Once again, your dinner tonight was subpar. You could really use some help from a little rat friend by the name of Ratatouille, or an abrasive British man named Gordon Ramsey. When your menu indicates a “cream sauce” will be delighted upon by ordering the Broccoli & Pollo dish, that should NOT mean that I will then get pasta, broccoli and chicken with tons of garlic and cheese soaked in what can only be described as garbage soup.

In short, Luigi’s… you have reached Villa league dining… even JJ McKay’s league dining, and now your incompetence will cost me time and energy in persuading my parents to find a new “fall back” ristorante in the Natick/Wayland area… thanks a lot! Thanks a lot for nothing.

Sincerely,

Molly

ps – the scientific term for “algae” is “yuck-a-pluck”