Dear Peasants: As the politically turbulent year of 2017 draws to a close, I have but one simple wish. That we, as a nation, can put aside our differences and band together to banish the ultra pretentious and mind numbingly empty phrase “MASTER CLASS” from our collective vocabulary. First of all, what, exactly, IS a master class? Never mind that the phrase sounds like the precise description of racial or gender domination by one group over all others. A class where you can go so some asshole can tell you why he is a “master” at life! Which basically requires … Continue reading DEAR PEASANTS 


  Dear White People: Believe me. I understand. I am usually the whitest person in any situation I enter. I’ve never really had a tan. I am of Scandinavian descent (inbred), sometimes when I get my hair bleached, I become opaque if they leave the foils on too long. I grew up in the Midwest. I laugh too hard at my own jokes. It takes me a while to catch on to my surroundings. You know. I’m a fucking dork. So I understand better than anyone how boring it is to be relegated to the “White/Caucasian” box of every single … Continue reading DEAR WHITE PEOPLE


Dear BananaRammer:  There was once a time when Southwest Airlines was the gold standard for cool, funky, laid back flying. Herb Kelleher parlayed something that was typically a stuffy, uptight nightmare into a kitschy, lighthearted free for all; complete with stampede seating and employees who appeared to actually enjoy their jobs. Jokes were part of the schtick, and the customer was in on the riff. It was like… “hey guys, we know this sucks. Let’s just cop a good attitude and make the best of it…” and the staff led by example. Their attitude was infectious. When you flew Southwest, … Continue reading DEAR BANANARAMMER: 


Dear Kathy Griffin:  I never thought I’d live to see this day. Where I’m kind of, sort of, marginally on your side on ANY topic. I mean, I’ve suffered through the ravings of a lot of shitty comedians in my life due to my extreme disdain for social order, love of dark rooms and bizarre desire to suck down two glasses of water with a quarter shot of generic mad dog in each simultaneously to meet the two “drink” minimum while freezing my ass off and being treated like garbage by 70 year old waitresses with emphysema.  To wit: (but … Continue reading DEAR KATHY GRIFFIN


  Dear Stupid Spice: I think I just heard you tell some other dumb whore that you could somehow “just tell” that this losers “hair was a mess” ergo you “didn’t want to even OPEN” your Snapchat for fear of what you might see. Now, apparently you are in crisis, unable to decide whether or not to call him when you get home, even though you “don’t care that much” what happens. Wait. What? That was your only problem with this event? A glimpse of possibly messy hair? First of all. Physician, heal thyself. You’re not exactly cutting edge with … Continue reading DEAR STUPID SPICE


DEAR REFU-SHES: I get it. One minute, you’re on top of the world, snacking on moldy bread crusts you found in a hole under your dead neighbor, and the next, your dreams are shattered as you are cruelly, temporarily, maybe, possibly, denied entry into a country you have never been to, know nothing about and have zero right to live in. Then, suddenly, the moldy bread crust is rendered a death sentence. Even if it’s just temporary. I mean, you didn’t think it was a death sentence before. You were fine with it. But now that you’re not getting your … Continue reading  DEAR REFU-SHES: