Open Letters, additional installments #2
Dear Sodium Laurel Sulfate,
Yeah, I know, I know already, you're bad for me, etc etc. I'm aware you're an industrial detergent. I thought you and I had a deal.. I'd stop using soaps containing you, and you'd stop making me dry and itchy, right? It was working, I know, we were both pretty pleased with things.. but let's just, for a moment here, talk about my hair. I've tried organic fair trade shea butter shampoo. I've tried baby shampoo. I've tried house-brand crunchy-hippie shampoo potions, replacement ingredients, coco-sourced mysopropyl soaps, pure castile soap, shampoo bars, that really nice smelling but ungodly expensive Lush stuff that has to be refrigerated... All of it. But nothing, nothing gets my hair as clean and nice and silky as you do. I don't care if it's the swanky stuff or just suave knockoffs from CVS, my hair loves you, even against all my wishes. So let's cut a new deal, ok? How about you and I just see each other two or three times a week, ok? Nobody needs to know but us. I'm going to keep on with the SLS ban in all my other products, but you and me and my hair.. it shall be the love triangle that dares not speak its name.
Dear Google Ads,
You must know that normally I pretty much ignore you. I'm sorry if this hurts your feelings, but I have to be clear on how little attention I pay you in general. That said, I'd like to say thank you for the last week, wherein you have deluged me with ads for Viagra, Cialis, and all the related frippery that goes along with that market segment. I have to say it's amused me tremendously and helped me wash that man right out of my hair, so to speak, providing me with endless amusement and reinforcement that it was, indeed, 99.99% likely not me, regardless of the unreal justifications from the aforementioned that have shown up in my inbox. A wise person would conclude that the continued effort to lay the whole thing at my feet, or waistline, simply proves the point without me needing to raise so much as an eyebrow. But still, thanks for sending me so many little text reminders that there's a whole industry out there, just waiting to pounce, heh. And I know it makes me a bad person etc, to not feel pity or sympathy for that sort of thing.. but then I think about the reddit posts I read from the same, and all that lovely socially apportioned mercy goes right out the window. Tee hee.
Dear Blutengel,
Really? More with the vampire schtick? I just have to ask.. You people seriously haven't gotten over that yet? Wow.. I mean, I'm impressed a little bit to be honest.. You guys are going to stick to your guns, er, fangs.. good for you, I guess.
Dear Titus,
You know I love you. You have the softest, fluffiest belly I've ever had the pleasure to rub and wiggle. And you know I don't even mind when you come and knead on my neck with those insanely fast-growing claws of yours. I won't even put my shoes on the floor of my closet because I know you really like scratching the new carpet I put down in there. But you really, really, really need to stop curling up inside or on top of the clothes I have put onto my bed specifically for me to wear later. It doesn't matter if I put a towel over them or anything, what the hell? The extra two minutes I have to spend sticky-rolling myself is often the difference between me leaving on time and chilling in the car and me leaving two minutes late and trying to drive through people with my music cranked way up. Seriously, you don't lie on my bed at any other time but you seek out my clean clothes? No good, catty-fatbelly, cut it out.
Dear Apple-Scented Fabric Softener,
Look, I know I'm not supposed to use you and all that, and we can talk about that later.. but are you the one encouraging the cat? He seems perturbingly over-interested in the washing machine when I'm drizzling you into it. It's cool if so, I just want to know what's going on with you two is all.
Love, Me.
Yeah, I know, I know already, you're bad for me, etc etc. I'm aware you're an industrial detergent. I thought you and I had a deal.. I'd stop using soaps containing you, and you'd stop making me dry and itchy, right? It was working, I know, we were both pretty pleased with things.. but let's just, for a moment here, talk about my hair. I've tried organic fair trade shea butter shampoo. I've tried baby shampoo. I've tried house-brand crunchy-hippie shampoo potions, replacement ingredients, coco-sourced mysopropyl soaps, pure castile soap, shampoo bars, that really nice smelling but ungodly expensive Lush stuff that has to be refrigerated... All of it. But nothing, nothing gets my hair as clean and nice and silky as you do. I don't care if it's the swanky stuff or just suave knockoffs from CVS, my hair loves you, even against all my wishes. So let's cut a new deal, ok? How about you and I just see each other two or three times a week, ok? Nobody needs to know but us. I'm going to keep on with the SLS ban in all my other products, but you and me and my hair.. it shall be the love triangle that dares not speak its name.
Dear Google Ads,
You must know that normally I pretty much ignore you. I'm sorry if this hurts your feelings, but I have to be clear on how little attention I pay you in general. That said, I'd like to say thank you for the last week, wherein you have deluged me with ads for Viagra, Cialis, and all the related frippery that goes along with that market segment. I have to say it's amused me tremendously and helped me wash that man right out of my hair, so to speak, providing me with endless amusement and reinforcement that it was, indeed, 99.99% likely not me, regardless of the unreal justifications from the aforementioned that have shown up in my inbox. A wise person would conclude that the continued effort to lay the whole thing at my feet, or waistline, simply proves the point without me needing to raise so much as an eyebrow. But still, thanks for sending me so many little text reminders that there's a whole industry out there, just waiting to pounce, heh. And I know it makes me a bad person etc, to not feel pity or sympathy for that sort of thing.. but then I think about the reddit posts I read from the same, and all that lovely socially apportioned mercy goes right out the window. Tee hee.
Dear Blutengel,
Really? More with the vampire schtick? I just have to ask.. You people seriously haven't gotten over that yet? Wow.. I mean, I'm impressed a little bit to be honest.. You guys are going to stick to your guns, er, fangs.. good for you, I guess.
Dear Titus,
You know I love you. You have the softest, fluffiest belly I've ever had the pleasure to rub and wiggle. And you know I don't even mind when you come and knead on my neck with those insanely fast-growing claws of yours. I won't even put my shoes on the floor of my closet because I know you really like scratching the new carpet I put down in there. But you really, really, really need to stop curling up inside or on top of the clothes I have put onto my bed specifically for me to wear later. It doesn't matter if I put a towel over them or anything, what the hell? The extra two minutes I have to spend sticky-rolling myself is often the difference between me leaving on time and chilling in the car and me leaving two minutes late and trying to drive through people with my music cranked way up. Seriously, you don't lie on my bed at any other time but you seek out my clean clothes? No good, catty-fatbelly, cut it out.
Dear Apple-Scented Fabric Softener,
Look, I know I'm not supposed to use you and all that, and we can talk about that later.. but are you the one encouraging the cat? He seems perturbingly over-interested in the washing machine when I'm drizzling you into it. It's cool if so, I just want to know what's going on with you two is all.
Love, Me.