Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Dear Chinese Food,


I can't stop thinking about the wonderful time we spent together on Sunday night. You're a great HBO watching companion. And you looked so cute in your little box. Oh that little box! It's a symbol of "good times ahead!" One of my favorite things is when I see people on TV holding you in those little boxes. it gets me all nostalgic.

My only complaint is that even though we spent a few hours together, after you were gone, I longed for more of you. I also felt kinda dirty. So we'll totally hang out again, just not a for a few months, okay? Can't wait!

Love Always,
Giulia

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Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Dear Lactose Digesting Enzyme,


I wish my body produced you so I could fearlessly enjoy dairy. Instead cheese flirts with my stomach in some sick game of nutrient processing Russian roulette.

Oh you hurt so good, so good.


Love Always,
Giulia

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Monday, September 28, 2009

Dear Giulia,


Don't get so easily irritated if someone doesn't reply to your email within a few days. Your neediness is making me uncomfortable. Not everyone is like you and feels the need to reply almost immediately to messages because they just can't bare the burden of an unanswered email sitting there, taking up all that infinite space in their inbox. Remember that time you kept emailing that person and got really mad when they didn't respond so you kept emailing only to find out they had a death in the family? Ummmm yeah, you see, not everything is about you! Chill. Please. The whole world is not trying to avoid you. At least, I don't think it is.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Friday, September 25, 2009

Dear Person Not Using Headphones On The Subway,

Why? Just tell me why? Why are you not wearing headphones, thus forcing everyone on this subway car to listen to your shitty music? First of all the sound quality sucks coming out of your tiny cell phone speaker. Secondly, I hate this song. I don't know what song it is, but if you like it, I hate it. And third of all, you're an asshole.

WOW! Wowee wow wow! You have the technology to play MP3's from your mobile device. OOOOOOOOOH I'm so impressed. You, and everyone else in America. I think even my friends cat Nigel has a cell that plays music. So if you're trying to show off, it's not working. If you're trying to make me feel a violent pang in my heart stronger than most violent pangs I've felt before, then job well done.

If you're so desperate to be noticed, can you do something that's a quieter plea for attention, like tattoo your face?

I think instead of handing out sandwiches to the homeless, I want to start a nonprofit organization where we hand out headphones to you mindless, barbaric, ignorant, no-respect-for-anyones-space savages.

What I don't get, is how only one of you ends up on every subway car and rarely do you see two of you playing your MP3's sans headphones at the same time. It must be a conspiracy. So I plan to be that competitor. Yes, me. A short white gal in a dress is going to sit right next you, take out my IPhone and blast music too. Perhaps I'll blast this song:


Maybe you'll hear the words. Shut off your music. Put down your cellie. Look over at me with tears in your eyes and mouth the words "thank you."

Love Always,
Giulia

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Thursday, September 24, 2009

Dear Geeky Couple Practicing Drumming at the Coffee Shop,


I don't think a coffee shop is the best place to teach someone how to play drums. And I'm not talking about a little kid with spoons, I'm talking full-fledge adults banging drum sticks on a table.

There is a sign on the wall that reads "please refrain from talking on cell phones in cafe" but none that read "please refrain from drumming so loudly on your table that you shake the floor." So I guess you're free to continue being a totally obnoxious pair of assholes.

And now you're speaking the drum sounds too?! Lord help me if I hear one more "Chak Boom Ba Dom" come out of your mouths...

I'm looking around and no one else in here seems to care that you are so annoying. I can't be the only one. Or am I? Does everyone else here really think this is okay? Am I totally off here? Am I being all "square" cause I'm angry about public displays of drumming and cause not wearing a winter hat on an 83 degree day like most people in this hip NYU area coffee shop?

What was that? Did you just say "Ba Ba Dip Boom Ba Cha Cha?" of course you did. Of course.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Dear Adam Richman,

(WARNING THIS IS A LOVE LETTER!)

You have the best job. The best. traveling and eating? Not jsut eating, but eating massive amounts of delicious food? Oh your show is like porn for me.


Let's be friends please. Thanks.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Dear Man Picking Things Off Of Your Dreadlocks,


Can you please wait till you get home to do that mon? I assume I am not the only one on the subway that does not want whatever you are finding and then flicking to land on them.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Monday, September 21, 2009

Dear People Who Advertise Their Business In The Blog Comments,

Knock it off. I reject your comments anyhoo, so why even bother? You and those people who advertise their events on other peoples MySpace and Facebook walls should all go and write on eachothers assholes.

I know even know what that last line means, but I like it.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Friday, September 18, 2009

Dear Readers,


My column at ShoestringMag.com now has a name: "Pop Culture Pen Pal!" Every month I'll be writing a new deardouchebag.com style letter for them that's focused on fashion, culture, and/or budget-living. September is about tiny living spaces, read it by clicking here. Enjoy!

Love Always,
Giulia

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Thursday, September 17, 2009

Dear Super Creepy Sex Doll,

Okay, I'd like to think I'm pretty open-minded about sex, fetishes, sex toys, etc. But I just read about you on BUST.com and you scare me! A German company called First Androids created you, a sex doll, that is very close to a real lady. So close in fact that you breath, have a pulse, can perform oral sex acts and you a g-spot that responds to orgasm! What?!

Half the women I know complain they can't find a good guy, but you, a fake woman, can?! And you can cum!? Why are you stealing orgasms from the women of the world in need of an actual, real, fuck?

Then again, I'm not sure a real woman would want to fuck a guy who would fuck a doll, So I take the above statement back, keep those guys. Sadly I think your existence just perpetuates the idea that some men don't want a girlfriend or a wife, but just a vagina. A brainless, lifeless, "won't-talk-back" vagina.

I just vomited up my coffee.

Truth is I think most men do want more than a vagina. So then what kind of guy buys you? I sorta feel bad. I mean, are the men who buy that hopelessly loney? Or is this some sort of sick twisted control thing? A man gets to buy a (fake) womanand do whatever he wants with her. Is this type of thing healthy? (Although, who's to say what's healthy or not when it comes to sex? I mean, I've heard of weirder things than having sex with a doll).

I'm just scared, I mean if people are creating a humanoid to have sex with, what other humanoid creatures can be created and for what reasons.

I never ever want to meet you. Ever.

You do have pretty hair though. That's nice.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Dear Pancreatic Cancer,

You're an asshole.


Dirty Dancing - The funniest videos are a click away

We'll miss you Patrick!

Love Always,
Giulia

Monday, September 14, 2009

Dear Kayne,

I think I know what happen. You must have gotten some sort of brain injury when your barber was shaving that facinating swizzle wizzle fo' shizzle paisley haircut onto your head.



You're going for that whole "I have a field maze on my head" look right?


Fun!

So in the middle of getting that cornfield coiffure, the razor cut too close to your skull slicing off the part of your brain that contains self control. I mean, we all have favorites. We all have people we'd like to win things over other people. But you verbally poo pooed all over Taylor Swifts bright star. In the words of Stepahnie Tanner "how rude!" Take it away Steph...


You said on your blog "I feel like Ben Stiller in "Meet the Parents" when he messed up everything and Robert De Niro asked him to leave... That was Taylor's moment and I had no right in any way to take it from her. I am truly sorry."

Alright fine. Perhaps what's more annoying, is that in addition to putting attention on yourself during Taylor Swifts speech, we are continuing to put attention on you for days (probably weeks, months, oh God years) to follow because now everyone is talking about you! Your name is all over Facebook and Twitter. I heard 4 different conversations about you on the NYC subways today. Even Obama called you a 'jackass.' Wow, you even got the president talking shit!

Wait a minute, maybe that's not a corn field maze on your head! It's an alien created crop circle!


Oh God, did aliens steal the part of your brain that contains self control? Hmm, but ET and ALF were nice dudes. I can't imagine they'd do a mean thing like that.

E.T. just wanted Reeses.

And ALF just wanted cats.


Okay so maybe it wasn't aliens.

Alright I'm sick of talking about this already, hopefully soon everyone else will be too.

Don't fret, I still like some of your songs n' stuff. Cause I know you were worried and all.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Friday, September 11, 2009

Dear Umbrellas,


Why do I even bother with you? Regardless of if I paid $2 or $20 for you, you always break. I hate how I felt today walking thru sideways rain, praying that you will do as promised and protect me, only for you give up. You throw your hands in the air in defeat and fall apart.

Yet I can't let go of you. I see your collegues abandoned in trash cans and street corners all over the city. I should leave you with them to die and go to rain gear heaven (or hell). But no, I keep you, you failure! I keep you in my purse with a bizarre sense of optimism that the next time I open you up you will magically have found the strength to shield me from the harsh introduction to fall weather. Please, don't disappoint me again.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Thursday, September 10, 2009

Dear Asshole on 7th Ave & 35th St.


I'm wearing a red dress, that is correct. No need to keep hollering "girl you wearing a red dress!" at me. I'm glad you know the hues in the color spectrum, way to go! But your slobbering, spit-filled screaming is not impressive. Guess what? I am now seeing red too.

Ooooh, oh okay you're going to follow me for 2 blocks yelping "GIRL I SAID YOU WEARING A RED DRESS! I LIKE ME SOME RED!" Oh, well in that case let's go back to your mama's basement and make ugly little children together. Is that what you'd like me to do?

Wait, what's that you said? You said "I like them boots. You wanna step on me with those boots?" Step on you? I wouldn't even want the dirty soles of my sweet leather shoes to get within 5 feet of your infested, pathetic excuse for a human, self.

And yet again, I feel like I did something wrong by wearing a hot lil' outift in public. I guess cute dresses paired with beautiful booties beg for harassment. Shame on me for liking style.

I wish I took your photo and posted it on one of my favorite websites hollabacknyc.com, but I was to scared to reach into my bag for my phone, fearful that my leaning over would cause a hint more of cleavage to show and then I'd really be begging for your harassment. Right?

I think you dropped your beeper.

Love Always,
Giulia

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Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Dear Recession,

Sorry I haven't written in a few days, it was labor day weekend and I needed to take a vacation from not really having a fulltime job.

Seriously enough already. As previously mentioned in my last letter, I just read The Secret and have been following the whole law of attraction/creative visualization stuff as far as money goes, and I'm still broke. Me and the rest of the world. Or so it seemed, until I watched this:

One of my heros Joan Rivers has a new show "How'd You Get So Rich" in which she asks rich people the title question. Apparently some folks are recession proof. (Dammit, why couldn't I have though of the million dollar idea My Breast Friend?!)

But I refuse to loose it. Sure, I just cried when I realized my credit card bill is due today and I can't pay it. I may have stomped my feet and yelled "No fair! No fair!" when I went to the ATM and saw that yet again, I have overdrafted my account. Perhaps it's taken me a couple extra hours (not minutes, hours) to get out of bed lately because lyingin bed is free, and everything outside of the safety of my room seems to suck my wallet dry. BUT, I will not loose it. I am awake, I am showered, I am ready to take on the day (shit! it's almost 2pm?!) I will not be beated by you evil economy. I will not.

Dammit, I shoulda kept all those buy one free McDonalds coupons my mom always tries to give me.

No, no I shouldn't. I may feel a little defeated, but not processed, fatty, fake beef defeated.


Love Always,
Giulia

Thursday, September 03, 2009

Dear Prosciutto,


(This is a love letter!)
I love you. I love you so much that I was distracted by you and forgot to post yesterday! I was in a fabulous mood. It was one of those days where New York City felt new again! I sat in the park and finished reading "The Secret" (such a good book) while eating a delectable panini made of you and an interesting combo of your friends; goat cheese, spinach, roasted pepper and olive spread with a lovely hazelnut coffee. Why would I bother logging onto the Internet to write a complaint letter when I was having such a blast with you, my salty sinful friend? Sure I could have written a note to the man sitting on the bench to my left yelling at squirrels. Or I could have written a letter to the guy wearing sunglasses at the Black Crowes concert last night who stepped on my foot and didn't say sorry. (Perhaps he would have seen my foot had he not been wearing sunglasses at night. Sorry dude, you ain't no Corey Hart.) Or I could have written to the tiny little man who sucked his teeth and called me "mami" for at least 3 blocks as I walked home last night.

But instead on focused on what was beautiful- sitting in the sun with a fantastic book and my handsome ham, my porky playboy, my cured-meat machoman, my cutie pie cold cut. Oh embrace me with your sinful saltiness! My precious Prosciutto, will you marry me?

Love Always,
Giulia

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Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Dear Dude Requesting Me on Facebook,

I'm sure you are great. Really, Kenny or Denny or Benny (which all seem to be the names of strangers who send me such requests) you seem wonderful, truly. I mean, kudos to you for wanting to make my cyber-acquaintance. I'm always flattered when someone wants to be my friend whether it's based on genuine real-life interactions or simply cause my photo looks fun on a networking site. I mean that. I am a sucker for attention. And since I do put myself out there in the public eye and mostly use Facebook as a tool to shamelessly and shamefully promote my shows, writing, etc etc, I often accept friendship requests from strangers. I encourage people who like my work to connect with me online.

However today, I clicked "ignore" to you. I left you lingering in my requests lists for weeks because frankly, I hate saying no. I mean it's not just "no" it's "no" right to your face, literally, your little face is just pasted there next to your sweet plea of "confirm! confirm!" Don't get me wrong, you, with all those tattoos and that sultry spiked (are those frosted tips?) hair, I'm sure you are a super A+ sorta guy. Oh sketchy looking stranger, maybe if you were wearing a shirt in your profile pic I would have confirmed your friendship request. That, and maybe if you weren't also holding your daughter ( I assume it's your daughter) in such a sexy-ish? shot.

Again, I'm sure you meant no harm in wanting me to be your 7th friend but I just can't do it. The last time I confirmed friendship with a similar looking shirtless character who lived in Lebanon, I soon after got an email from the fellow saying "you look very senzual, can I take you out on a date?" Now I assume he meant "sensual." That, or he was referring to this random musical duo:

Whatever the case may be, I had to delete Mr. Middle East because I just don't want that sort of Internet interaction in my life. And since you and he both seem to hate clothing, which clearly means you are both totally like twins, I also don't want to interact with you. Unless of course you perhaps toss on a tank top, then maybe you can have the pleasure of knowing vital info about me like "Giulia took the Which Horse Are You Quiz? Result is Appaloosa."

Love Always,
Giulia

ps. This rule does not go for women with topless profile pics. You gals can request me all you'd like. Yea! Bring it! Dat's what I'm talkin' about!
pss. That last ps. was a joke. I just want to see what it felt like to be really creepy. And what I learned is it feels gross to be really creepy.

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