Sunday, October 4, 2009

Dear Sunshine Coast

21. Address the public.
Revive the lost art of letter writing by addressing fellow citizens.

Dear Sunshine Coast,

Stop fucking touching my dog.

Believe it or not, I didn't get a dog so that I could talk to you every three steps. I did not get a dog so I could answer your mindless questions. Rest assured he has a name, a breed (which no, I will not repeat nor describe), he is either female or male (fine - male), and his age is about that.

When you touch my dog without asking, Sunshine Coast, I was to stick my finger up your nose. I think it will soon become obvious that the way you feel about my finger fondling your nasal passage is how I feel about you groping my dog. I.e. Grossly invaded.

Asking before going in for the pat is much nicer, and my answer will always be "yes", because I appreciate your manners so. In gratitude I will even respond politely to the previously mindlessness. It will be like falling in love with an extremely ugly man, when you find yourself overlooking his hideousness because you have grown a fondness for his endearing ways. I will overlook your inane questions in fondness for both your manners and my pup, who yes I do love dearly (but who is not ugly).


See? Totally cute pup (named Mr. Darcy)

Sunshine Coast, I have to say your stupidity astounds me when you put your fingers in my puppy's mouth and encourage him to tug of war with you while you ACTUALLY GROWL AT HIM. I don't know why you don't just walk up to my three-year-old and engage him in a quick nunchuck sparring session. Why not first teach him how to fashion his own nunchucks by tying my GHD straightener and curling iron together? I wonder if your puny brain thought so far ahead as to picture the shoes, toys, clothes and little three-year-old fingers living in my home that might find themselves victim to your little game.

Here's the thing. I don't like chit-chat. I avoid it at all costs. And just because I have a puppy, this doesn't mean I want to carry on about it. I have my stuff, dog included, you have yours. Let's just leave it at that.

LOOK- just stop fucking touching my dog.

Yours in constant irritation,

Sally