Dear 20 Something Cashiers,

I'm not in the store where you work to be friends or buddies with you. And I'm pretty sure you don't want to be BFFs with me. I'm there to buy something. That's it. What I don't want is the following:

• I don't want you to tell me about your new piercing, tattoo, or your new hair color. I could care less about what you did last night or before you came to work. I don't want to know about your dog, cat, brother, sister, kid, or in fact, anyone in your life.
• I don't want you to sneer at my purchases. I could care less if you think what I buy is crap, you're not buying, I am.
  
• I don't want you to check the eggs in my egg carton. I can do that myself, and most likely, I did before I put them in the cart.
• If I tell you I don't want a bag and you put some of my stuff in a plastic bag, I don't want you to toss that plastic bag away in a huff. I didn't want that bag in the first place, but now that you've used it I don't want you to toss it away, just give it to me and I'll recycle it.
• I don't need you to look at my aging face and short hair and assume I'm some kind of right winger. Most likely, I'm more left wing than you are you smarmy little turd.
• And finally, stop acting all hurt that I don't want to stay and chat with you. I'm painfully aware, as you should be, that there are customers behind me and they want to get checked out quickly as well, so I'll always skip the chit chat so they can get checked out a little faster.

Seriously people, I'm not there to make your day bright or to validate and to praise you effusively, that's your parents job, not mine. Let's keep things between us short, professional, and brief.

Thanks ever so much.

Sincerely,

Dr. Monkey

It's open letter time!

Dear The Daily Show,
Olivia Munn and John Hodgman are seriously painfully unfunny. And seeing as how you already have two unfunny correspondents, Sam Bee and Jason Jones, you ought to think of letting some of these unfunny people go.
Yours,
Dr. Monkerstein

Dear Intestinal Tract of Mine,
What crawled up inside you and died?
Sincerely,
Monkey

Dear Committed Christian Friends on Facebook,
I don't want to add any more of you nuts to my friend list so please stop suggesting I add more of you crazy fuckers.
Thanks,
Doctor Monkey

Dear Warm Weather,
I love you. I honestly love you. Let's run off and live together.
Adoringly yours,
Monkerstein

Hey Tailgating Asshole on Interstate 181,
The guy in front of me had a tire that was blowing out and tossing chunks of wire filled rubber at me. I saw you had to swerve to miss one as well, which should have given oyu a clue as to why I slowed down. But just for the record asshole, I slowed down to avoid an accident. I didn't need you driving up my ass and staying there. Then the worst part of your assholery was the stupid glare you gave me as you passed me. If I had had a taser gun, I would have tased your stupid ass.
Fuck off you idiot,
Me

Dear Blockbuster and Borders,
You both deserve bankruptcy because you refused to adapt to the changing market place. You especially Blockbuster, you seriously suck, idiots.
Yours in schadenfreude,
Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein.

Open letters

Dear Anyone Who Uses the Phrase 'Assless Chaps':
If chaps had an ass in them they'd be called pants. So please stop using the phrase 'assless chaps.' Or don't, you may actually like sounding like an idiot.

Sincerely yours,
Dr. Monkey


Dear People Who Email Me Monkey Related Stuff:
Keep it up, you people are feckin' awesome. I mean it. Really.

Yours in simian love,
Dr. Monkey

Dear Women at the Movie Theatre Who Talked All Through Julie & Julia:

Did you two never learn any manners? Or is it all right to blab through an entire movie just because you paid for your own tickets?

Seriously, you two blabbermouths had better be glad Sparky was with me at the time or I would have reminded you that you weren't the only ones who paid to see that movie and that you needed to be respectful of everyone else by keeping your traps shut. Seriously gals, you weren't at home watching Titanic for the hundredth time or some piece of shit on Lifetime Movie Network, you were in public amongst others who paid to see and hear the movie on the screen.

I'll be glad to buy you both a tall cup of 'shut the fuck up' next time we all go to the same movie. Deal?

Angrily yours,
Dr. Monkey


Dear Middle Aged Realtor Dudes in North Carolina:

The Blues Brothers? Are you fucking kidding me?
Which one of you thought it would be a good idea for you to put your picture of you dressed as characters from a 30 year old movie on a billboard? Guys, even Ackroyd and Belushi didn't look good dressed up as the Blues Brothers, so what makes you think you do? You cats are middle aged douchebags, I'm betting one or both of you drives a Corvette because you think it's 'cool' and you both probably hit on your daughter's college girlfriends.

I'd tell you two to be yourselves and to stop trying to co-opt other personas to try to help you sell your over priced real estate but you're too damn stupid to listen to me. So I'll have to settle for begging you two to stop giving the rest of us middle aged guys a bad name.

Disgustedly yours,
Dr. Monkey