Dear FanLib, Simon & Schuster, Continental Airlines, judges on Shear Genius, and just about everyone involved with season 8 of America's Next Top Model,

What the hell were you thinking? Clearly, all of you get paid to sit around and drink Diet Coke all day.

No love. Fix this crap.

Cedar

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Links might come later, but right now I'm on my sidekick at the airport in New Orleans. Phoenix Rising was muchly fun and educationally delightful, but I have no pictures yet. Forgot to bring the camera. Except...

If you're the Snape I mistook for a vampire and tried to (not really, as there was no wood-to-person contact) stake at the Masquerade Ball, I apologize.

reversathon fic: 4800 words, three different endings (not counted), no middle.

Haven't slept in nearly 24 hours. Longer letter later.

Tags: the letters no one reads
917: MSY
126: exhausted

Dear person who not only stole my birthday present from mollymoon, but also $70 worth of limited-edition perfume I ordered and now cannot reorder, off my doorstep,

Fuck you sideways with a pineapple. I know you're somehow associated with the people who moved in across the hall in February, because I lived here for a year and a half and never lost so much as a J. Crew catalog until you moved in. Since you moved in, or your friends/relatives moved in, I've lost two clearly marked Priority Mail boxes with my name on them. I don't steal YOUR mail, fucktard. And I can't say anything to you about it because Dog knows what you'll do during the day while I'm at work and I have kittens to protect.

But I AM calling the apartment rental office and the local post office.

No love,

Cedar

Tags: the letters no one reads
126: pissed off