Corner of Bourbon & Division

Dear SAAQ,

You can suck it.

I provided official documentation from my doctor two years ago certifying that my medical condition is resolved. You're telling me that the signed document from a medical professional isn't sufficient evidence that I'm not a threat on the road? Really? Seriously?

Fuck you.

No love at all,

Me.

Dear 24,

Against my better judgment, I have started watching you again. Why do I do this? I don't know. I feel a bit like an abused wife.

"I know you didn't mean it —you were just drunk on your TV ratings!"

"Maybe this time it'll be different. I know you can change!"

At least so far this season no one has torn out someone else's jugular with their teeth. Small mercies.

See, this year I saw Katee Sackhoff was part of the lineup, and I thought "HOORAY! A strong female character at last!" Because, you know, 24, how disappointing you've been on that score. You keep introducing female characters who ought to be strong and awesome, and every single time you ruin them by having them be under some guy's thumb, one way or another.

I don't understand why I thought that you'd do something different with Katee Sackhoff's character. Maybe I was lulled into a false sense of security by her four years as Starbuck (who, sure, got ruined by the writers, but started out for the first two seasons being pretty freakin' awesome).

As it turns out, dear 24, you're not even four episodes in and you've wrecked the character's chances with me.

You know, 24, it's not even the fact that you can't pull a strong female character out of your ass that disappoints me. Having a show with an almost completely male bent to it isn't something I object to. I mean, look how obsessed I am with Supernatural, and that show kills off 99% of its women! Sure, I don't like that part of it all that much, but I love the show anyway. I just wish you'd learn and grow as a show, which you don't, not really. You've become practically a parody of yourself, which is sad.

Although having Jack Bauer say "I hate this place," while at CTU this season was a nice touch. I'll give you that. I would hate it too, in his shoes. ;)

I don't know why I'm disappointed, frankly. You'd think I would know better by now.

No love,

Me

Dear Prospective Candidate,

Here's a tip: if you can't call the RCMP by yourself to get information on how recruitment works, then the RCMP is probably not a career path you should consider. If you have to get your mommy to call for you, then the RCMP is definitely not a career path you should consider.

Please to grow a spine, some cojones, and buy a pair of scissors so you can cut those pesky apron strings.

No love,

Me

Dear banking website,

I have several inter-connected complaints to make. First off, if I click on "Pay A Bill," I do not, in fact, really mean "Log Me Out Successfully." Second, if I click "View My Transactions," I still do not, in fact, really mean "Log Me Out Successfully."

Related to this, given that there is a SERIOUS bug in your programming that logs me out every time I click on a link, forcing me to re-enter all my information over and over again, I would very much appreciate there being a section somewhere, ANYWHERE, on your site that would allow me to report the bug and open a trouble ticket.

Is there such a section? NO. I had to resort to your "customer feedback" section, and I am not optimistic about your promise to get back to me within 24 hours. I fully expect, given my previous experience with you, that your "response" will be an automated email thanking me for my patronage.

For the love of all that's good and holy, would you just fix your damned website?

No love,

Me

Dear cat,

I love you, you know I do. Here's a tip: if you're going to puke all over my pristine sofa, do NOT come and shove your puke-breath face directly into mine and ask for pats. No, really. It's gross, and I am already disinclined to give you pats after scrubbing the sofa.

Love,

Me

Dear Cat Who Has Just Sat Upon My Knitting,

Remove yourself. Right. Now.

So help me, I will NOT be held responsible for my actions if you unravel it.

Love,

Mama

Dear Self,

Here's something to remember. When you are chopping onions and your eyes water, when you go to take out your contact lenses, wash your hands first before sticking your onion-laded fingers right into your eye.

You'd think this would be self-evident, but you'd be wrong.

Love,

Me

Dear Canada Post,

Please to not be leaving my valuable Lee Valley shipment on my doorstep when I'm not home. You are supposed to take the package back to the post office and leave a notice in my mailbox. Same goes for my Amazon orders.

What you are doing now leaves my stuff vulnerable to being stolen by people passing by on the street, and I do believe that it violates a couple of federal statutes.

So, please, next time, do your freaking job.

No love,

Me

Dear ADD!Supervisor,

Please to not be sending the mental emails anymore. We, your employees, feel that this is discriminatory toward the telepathically challenged. Since we cannot read your mind, it is therefore unfair of you to assume that we are aware of the changes in procedures that you thought you sent to us last week, but didn't.

Kthxbai,

Me

Dear member of the public,

I am not a civil servant. I am a civilian member of a police service that happens to be funded by the federal government. You do NOT pay my salary, and you are not entitled to anything from me save the courteous service that is within my power to give to you.

You don't get to tell me how to do my job, you don't get to tell me that I'm incompetent, stupid, [insert many many more colourful insults here, the least offensive of which is "bitch"], and you certainly don't get to yell at me.

If you persist in telling me that you pay my salary, I will demand to see your medical records. After all, I pay for your medicare, and so I should have a right to see whether your medical treatment is being conducted the way I see fit.

In the meantime, I reserve the right to hang up on you if you are abusive. I warned you three times that if you didn't change your tone and be polite, that I would terminate the conversation. Three strikes, you're out, buddy.

No love,

Me