Dear Folks (in front of restaurant loudly discussing your Christianity and political affiliations):
How in the world did you get so deceived??
You hold a Master’s Degree, I understand that. What I don’t understand is how you obtained it with your grammar and spelling.
Dear Department Head:
If you don’t know how to spell it, don’t call someone else out on their “lapses of grammer.”
Dear Brown Recluse:
Haven’t you learned yet that every time you pick on someone else’s grammar and spelling, you make a dilli-whopper yourself?
Dear Sixth Grade Spelling Bee:
I still remember you putting with me out with the word “Biscuit.” I guess Betty Crocker’s “Bisquick” doesn’t mean biscuit is spelled “bisquit.”
Dear Phantom Neighbors:
I don’t ever see any of you. ::::raised eyebrow::::
Dear Wal*Mart Mommy:
When your 4 year old is pelting you with the toy he wants you to open NOWWWW!! in the middle of the store, I respectfully suggest you don’t keep offering him other toys he may like better than that one.