Just some observations.

Dear Mr. Impatient,

I am sorry that I offended your life by not accelerating up the the stop light, which was clearly red. I am sorry you took it upon yourself to proceed to tail-gate me, and flip me off. Then, when you realized I actually starting to go slower (HA!), you zoomed past me laying on your horn. As I waved, you apparently had a heart attack, as you slammed on the gas, just in time to slam on your breaks, right before we both approached the red light. At. The. Same. Time.

Congratulations.



Dear Ms. Screaming Person,

I am sorry that you don't know how to speak to your childen without screaming. Seriously. What is your deal? What is the point in bringing your child to Disneyland, if you simply planned on yelling, screaming, and calling them names the whole time. Obviously the statement "the whole time" is only a matter of my personal observation of you. Who knows, maybe those W H O L E ten minutes were just a small window of your lapse in judgement. But come on, I could hear you all the way across from the Dumb ride, as I sat feeding Hugh. And you screamed the whole time. And every single person in line is staring at you. And your son is crying. And you are still yelling at him.

I don't get it. Admission here isn't cheap.


Dear Public Smoker,

They have the roped off section for you to smoke in for a reason. I think it has something to do with the whole idea that second hand smoke is actually considered hazardous. So, while you think you are doing me a favor, I think it's still up for debate whether or not bringing your children into said area is totally a great idea. Not sure, but for some reason, I'm thinking it's not exactly the most intelligent decision you have ever made. While you sit with all your responsible friends, laughing as you blow smoke into your child's face, it actually infuriates me. Really.

I may be wrong, but I think you're an idiot.

But, it's just my observation.