Dear Letter Y

You are not useful.  Really, what are you good for at all?  Lazy people use you to ask "Why?", which pisses me off to no end.  Do you think you are more important than W and H, you pretentious jerk?  If it wasn't for you, we'd have a nice 25 letter alphabet, and if something at my store cost $0.25, I could ask  for an alphabet coin.  The customer would slide me a quarter, and we would be so freaking awesome. You ruin this.

I can cite two reasons why you are the most worthless and disposable.  First, listen to any child sing the ABC song.  Everything is good and normal until they hit you, and suddenly it is "W,X, Y and Z".  You have to be tied to Z just so people remember you.  Without Z you would be Pete Best, Chad Channing, and Brian Jones all wrapped up in a suck ass bundle.

The other reason would be your whole vowel nonsense.  "And sometimes Y".  Really?  When has it ever been Y?  They gave this one to you, just like they give a participation trophy to the kid on the little league team they stick in right field for one inning.  All he does is twirl in circles and chew on his glove the whole time, but he gets a trophy.  That's you.

Dear Online Comment Posters

Sometimes old adages are around still because they are true.  "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth", "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure", and "Don't feed the bears" all still are relevant today.  The one that stands out above all others is "Those that talk the most have the least to say".  Nowhere is this more evident than on the internet. 

If I ever want to feel terrified with the world around me, I'll click on any random news story and scroll down to the comments section.  After the three or four idiots are done fighting on who posted "First" first, and then question each others heterosexuality, the real show starts.  It really doesn't matter what the article was about, because the comments will never be about anything remotely close to it.  The politics of the day or just plain rampant racism, homophobia, sexism, misogynist banter, and plain old name calling will fill pages and pages of the saddest story known to man.  If someone can make it until the third page until the Hitler card is pulled, then humanity gets to go on another day. 

To say that the people that feel the need to make their horrible opinions known to the world have nothing better to do would be needless.  If I'm reading an article about how the Phillies should eat money to get Papelbon traded, the comments section should contain Bible verses, a discussion that if Papelbon was black, they would get less for a trade, a rundown of the latest episode of Game of Thrones, or any number of links to porn or pyramid schemes.  I want people to discuss teams to trade him to, or the prospects we should get.  Comments on news articles about any crime always devolve into a rampaging screamfest about the death penalty. 

At random, I brought up an article on comedian Lisa Lamponelli losing over 100 pounds.  It was a nice article, congratulating her for a healthy life choice.  This was the third comment:

"jcextraSat May 11 2013 Reply 1 8 I guess she will certainly be able to raise her legs now for the endless pieces of Black **** she wants to take on a weekly basis, lol and SHE STILL HAS THE JAY LENO CHIN. That will never DISSOLVE. Maybe thats why her mouth is so FILTHY or could it be from sucking GIGANTIC DICKS, lol"

 That person clearly needs helped, but damned if I'm going to be the one to do it.

Next, I looked at an article about a 17 year old boy in New Jersey that was killed when a granite slab fell on him and killed him.  This was a featured comment:

Steven Wolff · Top Commenter

Well, they can just carve his birth date and the day he died on it and give it to his relatives.

Reply · Like · 2 · Follow Post · 3 hours ago"

Classy.  As you can see, this man is a top commenter.  He does this all the time.  On top of that, two people liked the comment.  This isn't a discussion on jokes being PC or not.  It's about a time and a place for jokes.  Clearly, we've lost the right to post our comments, because we can't handle the freedom.

Anyone, learn from me.  No one even cares what you have to say until you get a blog.  Then, your opinion is gospel.  People eat it up like a nice lobster bisque, no matter how much you make fun of children.

Dear St. Mary's College Alumni Reunion 2015 Survey

This afternoon, I returned home from my 10 year college reunion.  It was a weekend I desperately needed.  After losing my job a few weeks ago and living in the turmoil of not knowing what comes next, the antidote seemed to be getting together with several of my best friends and returning to the place where we all met.  It was a place where I honed my sense of humor, where I broke out of the uncomfortable shell I lived in through high school, and a place I hold dear in my struggling, meat clogged heart.

Getting home, I had an email already awaiting me, with a survey to let them know what I thought.  Since I have no secrets with me readers, I chose to post it here.

*What is your graduation year?

*Why did you decide to attend Alumni Weekend this year? My ten year anniversary

*How did you hear about Alumni Weekend? Check all that apply. SMCMail Facebook Mailed brochure Friend/Word of mouth St. Mary's website SMCM Email Other:

*When were you last at St. Mary's?
3-5 years

*Was it easy to find parking? Yes   No *How would you rate your check-in experience? Good, not great. Comments on parking or check-in: I walked into the checkin tent and was greeted by a volunteer.  The smiling little girl had on a name badge stating she would be Class of 2016.  My brain did not computer that this should be something allowed in reality.  I was class of 2005.  Clearly, this child is not a time traveler, and 2016 is too fat away from 2016 for this infant to be so close the the job hunt I now find myself in.  Despite much head shaking, calling her a liar, and tears on both ends, I was given my name badge.  I later found out I should have been given a 10 Year Alumni pin.  Maybe you should teach your interns that if they want to pretend to be college students, they need to learn to man up, stop crying, and give me what I deserve.  *Where did you stay during the weekend? Waring Commons Suites. If you stayed on campus, how was your housing experience? Incongruous.  When I lived in those suites 12 years ago, I remember there being more Henry Rollins posters and alcohol in the rooms.  There were none when I arrived.  Also, we all paid to go to this school, hence why we are at Alumni weekend.  I know several 10 year alums that had to stay off campus because the only priority signup was for those that gave money to fundraisers.  I am still paying off my loans after ten years, and you want $300 to stay there again for the weekend, and didn't give any weight towards a person who was there for a 10th, 20th, or 30th year reunion than if it was their 2 year, expect if we had given you even more money. So, even though we paid lots of money ten years ago, we didn't pay any money recently, so we had to wait further in line to give you even more money now.  I think that is called racketeering, but I'm not sure, because my degree hasn't been worth very much. Did you attend any activities on Friday Night?Yes.  I braved the 100 degree/ 99% humidity weather to wander aimlessly down the walking paths and to get to dinner.  As a man that spends most of his time clinging to familiarity and fleeing from change, I appreciate that my old table and seat in the Great Hall were open.  I was less thrilled to find that my beloved Slurpee machine and soft serve machine had been jettisoned in the last decade.  Your Choco Tacos were a pale comparison, and shame on you for hoping their fudgey gooey goodness would sedate me.  After gorging my face on veggie burgers, collard greens, and "special drink", which is a concoction of Pibb Xtra, Diet Coke, and spirit of dance, I wound on down to the waterfront.  Despite having eaten no meat, I broke out in a horrifying case of the meat sweats, which carried through the rest of the evening.  I was forced to hide on the second floor of the boathouse and drink gin until the alcohol sweats took over. Did you attend any activities on Saturday Night? The "band" that was booked to play the dancing tent ranked somewhere between Kathy Griffin singing the collected works of Jefferson Starship and the actual Jefferson Starship.  The band my friend Margaret made up called MOD (Miles of Dick) that afternoon would have been a showstopper.  It features Spike the Uncivil on Tuba, Mad Margaret Mayhem on the other tuba, and yours truly on vocals, jazz hands and pure gumption.  We are available for next year, as long as we aren't booked by the White House for a previous engagement.  Instead on standing under the blazingly hot tent and being deafened by the PA system that was turned to the decibel levels of the voices screaming in Gary Busey's head I went to visit different groups of my friend.  That's what the weekend is supposed to be about, not a cheap R&B band and stale air.      Do you have any suggestions for special reunion attendees next year, especially 10th and 25th years?                                                                                                              Yes.  Acknowledge them some way.  Any way.  Even just a handshake and a pat on the back.  We didn't get jack this year.