Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.


Open Letters, part hinty-bazillion

Dear upstairs neighbors,

They're called slippers. Invest.

"I have clinicals at 0700. Thanks."

Dear Coworkers,

My name really isn't pronounced Uh-Leeeeee-Suh, eee-leese, honey, or "the secretary." Believe it or not, I've been alive 31 years, and am fairly certain of the actual pronounciation that my parents intended. I will generally respond to either uh-liss-uh or ee-liss-uh. Either is permissible. Now that I've been working on your floor for over 2 years, I would appreciate the effort to actually make me feel like part of the team by pronouncing my name properly, unless you'd prefer that I horrendously misprounounce your name or confer demeaning nicknames (such as nursey) on you as well. I'm easy.

"How the fuck did you arrive at 'Susan' from that?"

Dear fellow student,

The dress code specifically states that we must wear white closed toe and heel shoes with white socks. Your holey-ass mary jane crocs with NO SOCKS over in OB the other day were seriously skeetchtastic. But to then wear them again the next day in labor and delivery, where the incidence of baby-goo was way, way higher is just nasty. Seriously. SOCKS! Look into them!

Crocs are just grown up jelly shoes.

Dear dude who sits behind me in class-

Congratulations for acing all of your classes despite rarely showing up ever. May I humbly suggest that if you're going to show up at 8:20 for an 8:00 class, and talk through the vast majority of it that you just not even bother? Seriously. Invest in a few extra hours of sleep. Go take yourself out for coffee. Go work on a paper or something. Or, here's a novel idea... STFU so I can hear the prof.


PS- I still hate you for the crap you pulled last semester.

Dear profs-

Please stop showing STIs of the eye. We can look at grody bits and bobs all day long, but seriously- I do not need to see a big freaking gooey eyeball. We get it. Don't touch your drippy peen hole, and then rub your eyes.

No cup cheese here, thanks.


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home