Dear makers of food:
By no means should anything designed to be eaten ever be called a “slider.” I know, I know. Krystal (where I don’t believe I’ve ever eaten) is famous for theirs. But after hearing a radio commercial for an upscale local restaurant that will remain nameless (but the men’s bathroom in the same building is FAMOUS) numerous times on my drive to work, the word picture that the name “slider” brings to mind kind of makes me gag. OK, it makes me gag a lot. I’m just not going to eat it. Because the very name seems to guarantee a texture I’m going to hate and foreshadows a terrible stomachache. So I’m just avoiding the inevitable by refusing to eat them. And please, please, please stop calling food by that name!
Girl with a healthy dislike of gross word pictures,
Dear Muffin the Wonder Poodle:
In the days that you’ve been gone and off happily visiting Mom and Dad (your Moppy and Poppy), I’ve missed you! In my rose-colored world, I’ve remembered all the good things about you: how you sometimes snuggle up to me, your joy when you wake up in the morning, the way your hair looks after you rub your head all over the couch. I’ve blocked out how you bark incessantly at the neighbor dog, Roxanne, and how you sometimes look at me as if you’d rather I died, which, by the way, most dogs do not do to their owners! So when you come home with me a week from today, please, be on your best behavior for a few days. Let’s ease back in to your normal routine of eat, bark, sleep, go outside, glare, snuggle, growl, play ball.
The next time you want me to sing at your church and/or a special event, like say my brother’s ordination, tell me more than three or four days beforehand. But at least you told me this time! That’s a plus!
Your Baby Girl
Dear Robert B. Parker,
You are a published author, which is more than I can say for myself. I’ve listened to parts of your book Blue Screen on XM Radio. But here’s the deal and you can take this criticism or leave it: there are other words you can use than said. Yes, yes, I’m in journalism of sorts and we always use said because it’s generally the most straightforward way of handling what someone, well, said. But in literature and fiction, you can use so many great words like replied, mused, bemoaned, huffed, intoned, etc. I was listening yesterday and after a 10-minute interchange of “he said. . . . .she said. . . . . someone else said” I thought I was going to lose my mind. So just think about it. Or not. Whatever.
Fan of the thesaurus in TN,
Dear Suede on “Project Runway”:
Please cease and desist the overuse of the third person. Suede is tired; Suede is awesome; Suede loves the dress so much more than pants. Yeah, we know you want to be called Suede for whatever reason. But we also know from some slips you’ve made lately that you are capable of using the word I instead of referring to yourself in the third person. At first it was kind of funny and we mocked you. OK, we still mock you. But really, you’re getting annoying. And that thing you designed last night was not great. You were designing for a photographer, meaning a dress might not be the best idea. But her hair did look amazing, though I’m fairly sure you had nothing to do with that. And I think your time might be coming to a close in the competition. I’m just saying.
Making it work in Nashville,