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open letters

Part of what I read at writing group last night, while the wind wailed in the windows.

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Always that pause when two police cars and a fire truck come screaming past you just as you're walking up to work, Do I stand and listen for gunfire before going in?
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AN OPEN LETTER TO THE (CLEARLY) INDIGENT GENTLEMAN WHO WAS WALKING DOWN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET WITH A BRAND NEW ELECTRIC GUITAR AT 7:30 THIS MORNING, TALKING ON A CELL PHONE THAT (CLEARLY) WASN'T THERE

Sir,

Is your ID down at the pawn shop just an index card that says AWESOME on it?

Regards,
The Un-awesome Rest of Us


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Let's be honest: the Globe and Mail has been gutted to the extent that, most days, it takes about three minutes to read. Still, every once in awhile they surprise me. Like on Monday, when they ran a brief interview with Elaine Lui, who may just be my new hero after quotes like these --
I said, "I want to be Miss Hong Kong." My mom told me that was never going to happen, that I wasn't pretty enough and that Miss Hong Kong was probably a prostitute.
In terms of career advice, "follow your dreams" is far more common than "work hard", which is just crazy. Too many people believe in themselves.
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Yesterday I reached 100 followers on Tumblr. But will they sell Amway for me?

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An Oona video, for those of you who like like to slum it.
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AN OPEN LETTER TO THE VERY SLOW, VERY FAT CAT WHO RAN IN FRONT OF MY CAR LAST NIGHT

Dear Cat,

You have eight left.

Cold Regards,
DJB
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