Thursday, July 17, 2008

Oh Shit


Dear Tom Mylan,
Please forgive me and my inability to cook pork. I feel as though it should be me engulfed in flames and not these spare ribs, not these chops.



Again, terribly sorry for thinking I actually knew what I was doing. Buen Provecho.

Kind Regards,
Fidel

Friday, July 11, 2008

Not Roger. Not even close.

Dear Stand-in for Roger the Bartender at Camp,
I understand that every now and again you have to have a cigarette. Smoking is cool. But if it's 6:55 and the 2-for-1 happy hour special ends at 7, you should not hang out post-smoke until 7:15 and screw my darling wife and I out of a free brew doggie. Furthermore, we sat patiently while you bullshitted with a dude that by most people's standards would be considered a douchebag. That in and of itself should qualify us for one on the house. You can have the tip money, but the next time you're behind the bar, we'll keep walking.

Regards,
Mr. and Mrs. Gastro

Monday, July 07, 2008