If I Could Write a Letter To...

Dear Dallas Cowboys,
It's time to stop acting like a bunch of gossiping 8th grade girls at a junior high dance. As much as I hate your team, your owner, your players, and the shithole state you call home, I have to ask you to quit acting like a bunch of retards so I can watch Sportscenter without having to see Pedro Gomez or Ed Werder talking about how T.O. said that Tony Romo and Jason Witten were having Cowboy butt sex in the showers that day.

Seriously, enough already.
Cole

Dear Detroit Lions,
All my life I've been a Lions fan. Not the crazy "call into talk radio shows and go off about how we need better weakside protection on the outside zone then dress up as a Lion in a throwback Barry Sanders jersey and scream at everybody at every game and at my house when they're on the road" type fan, but a fan nonetheless. As a lifelong Lions fan I have to get something off my chest. YOU GUYS SUCK! From the top of the food chain Willam Clay Ford, all the way down to Carl, the guy who changes out the urinal cakes. If I had the power and the money to buy you I would fire everybody and just start over. I'm not going to get into how I would fix you because it wouldn't work anyway. As a fan, I hope and pray that you do in fact go 0-16 this year because damnit, you deserve it as an organization. It's my way of punishing you for punishing us as fans by throwing that terrible excuse for an NFL franchise at us year after miserable year. I will be the biggest Saints fan in America this week. I hope Brees torches you for 500 and 8 touchdowns and then I hope you get shut out. You're pathetic and I hate you.
Love Always,
Cole

Dear Jake Kirkendall,
Please get EMU Video Coordinator Matt Patterson a wrist pad for his mouse hand so he will stop bitching about getting carpal tunnel.
Cole

Dear Roomates,
I woke up this morning with every intention of shoveling the driveway. In fact, I was actually looking forward to it because I'm sick like that. Everything was great this morning until I lumbered up the stairs to take my morning leak only to see this message on the whiteboard in the kitchen: "If I Could Write a Letter To... Dear Cole, Shovel the driveway, don't be a lazy bastard today. Signed, Your Roomates" Now, like I said, I had nothing but the purest intentions this morning after we got the 4 inches of snow that covered our driveway but then you had to go and ruin it by being assholes. Have fun shoveling the driveway when you get home and watch out for the water I "spilled" on the porch step. Oh and another thing, next time the internet in the house goes out, don't freak out about it. It's not my fault you have to take a five minute break from your gay little World of Warcraft quest. That shit is gayer than Cowboy Butt Sex.
Love,
Cole

Dear Stores That Play Christmas Music on a Constant Loop During the Season,
There is nothing more agitating and frustrating than Christmas music. Especially when it's been redone by someone like Jessica Simpson or Reba McIntyre or The Backstreet Boys. If you want to play some Bing Crosby once or twice an hour I'm totally fine with that but once you start getting Justin Timberlake doing a remix of Little Drummer Boy, that's when my anger level starts to peak and when I'm most likely to scream at the old lady running the register for taking so damn long doing a price check on some little bastard's Buzz Lightyear or Princess Unicorn doll. Just stop it. I can't stand it any more. And you wonder why people get trampled at Wal-Mart.
I am not a Scrooge, I just hate Christmas music.
Cole

Dear Eastern Michigan University,
I swear to God, if you decide to be assholes and not let me graduate for some reason. I'll probably jump off the top of the Ypsilanti brick dick.
Cole