Letters: we can't all be winners, can we?

It's time to open up the stationary kit and write a few letters.  Join along if you'd like.

Dear OSU Basketball team,

I see you.  I see what you are doing with your big home-court wins.  And I like it.  I like that when I choose to make that commute to come watch you play, knowing I'll get home late on a school night, you give a lot of effort.  Sure, you couldn't win a scrimmage against elderly people on the road, but I do appreciate you winning at home.  I also appreciate rebounding.  And following the shot.

Please don't lose to OU again.  

Orange hugs and kisses, 

Kathy
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Dear Zombie Cat,

I think I'm supposed to be in awe of your story.  But really, I'm weirded out.  It's weird that you were dead and now you aren't.  One of my greatest fears in life is when nature attacks.  I saw the movie Pet Cemetery.  I didn't like it.  I don't trust your motives.

Keeping one eye open,

Kath
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Dear Empire,

Thank you for being exactly what I thought you would be.  You are what has been missing in my life.  A hip-hop soap opera?  Yes, please!  The music is great.  And I've had a soft spot for Terrence Howard since Hustle & Flow.  You know you're a good actor when I have deep sympathy for a pimp.  Like they say, it's hard out here for a pimp.  Seriously, they said that, I'm not even paraphrasing.    I guess some people have been critical of this show, and those people are dumb and clearly do not have their finger on the pulse of hip hop culture like I do.

You do you,

K-Dogg
--

Dear Life,

Alright already.  Enough.  Some idiot somewhere once said, "you are only given what you can handle."  And that dumb advice is often given to people who are going through a really hard time.  And I guess, if that person hasn't completely lost it, this advice is kinda true.  For example, Zombie Cat seemed to be only given what he could handle.  And that included dying, but not really, being buried alive, and scratching and clawing his way out of the grave five days later.  But you know what they say, that which does not kill you only makes you stronger.  And since Zombie Cat did actually die, I think he is the strongest cat to ever exist.

Anyway, I'm about one more piece of bad news away from moving into a cardboard box and playing the drums on an empty bucket.  I need you, life, to take a sharp right turn and let's leave this doo doo behind.  Also, when I'm having a bad day, how about we refrain from sending possoms to run infront of my car.  Not cool, life.  Not cool at all.  I'm having a hard time reacting to things in a rational manner, so when the spawn of Satan scurried in my path last night, I yelled to the heavens, "Oh come on!  This is the last thing I need right now!'  I can only assume that possum had just emerged from the grave and was heading to my house.

Pull yourself together,

KHR

Letters: SEC, short pants, and dumb, smug faces

Dear SEC,

Haha suckers!  Maybe now we can move past being beat to death with the message that the SEC is the most dominant conference in the history of all of sports.  You're like the show Heroes.  At one point, you were the very best, nothing else could compare.  But then you ran out of ideas and got stale, and we're all moving on.  Save the cheerleader, save the world?  Sorry, the cheerleader is dead.  Urban Meyer killed her.

Sorry 'boutcha,

Kathy

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Dear Man I Walked Behind Today,

Your pants, they were such a strange length. I was intrigued.  They stopped right before the top of your combat boots.  Do people even call them combat boots any more?  Is that 1992 calling in the background?  Asking for their terminology back?  Anyway, I think they had to be that length on purpose.  Right?  They were kind of like capris, but not.  Because they were on a man.  They were like sensible mom pants for men.  They were truly high-waters.  I mean, if you were to get caught in high water, you'd be fine.  Maybe you are a trend-setter, I'll never know.  I thought about following you around for the rest of the day to figure out your story, but I opted not to.  Because that would make me crazy.

Thanks for the mystery,

Kath

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Dear Morris Twins,

As Husband and I watched the Suns vs. Thunder game the other night I felt compelled to announce I could never cheer for the Suns because of you two.  Because I don't like you.  Didn't like you when you were at KU, don't like you now.  And it's because of your faces.  You have Jay Cutler face.  And I don't like it.  It's the equivalent of BRF, except I refer to it as EPF, extreme punchable face. Other sufferers include: Pete Carroll, Urban Meyer, and JJ Redick.  And if we are being honest and open here, Le'Bryan Nash has EPF too.  Big time.  But I have to cheer for him, because he's a Cowboy.  But there are times I just want to yell, "That face!  I can't look at that face for one more minute!"

Wipe those faces off your heads,

KHR

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Dear Cowboys,

This is a joint letter to both the football and basketball team.  Let's do our best to pull out some victories, okay?  Okay.  For the football team, I hope that Shippensburg spent the last month coming up with more options than the long bomb down the field versus running it up the middle for a gain of two.  Earn that paycheck, big boy!  And to the basketball team, two teeny little things: make your frickin' free throws and for the love of everything holy, if you are up three at the end of the game, FOUL.  How many, "I can't believe he made that improbable three!" moments must I suffer through?

Good luck and Go Pokes!

K

Letters: Two X's and such

Dear Daxx Garman,

I see you.  With your two X's.  I assume they stand for your arm being two times stronger than Walsh's.  Too soon?  I never wish for injury, unless it's the opposing team, so I was sad to see Walsh go down.  I feel bad for him.  It's been a rough go.  But moving on... I'm in on team Daxx.  I don't know why there are two X's in your name, and frankly I don't care as long as you keep slinging the ball down the field.

Just win baby,

Kathy

Dear Guy at the Gym,

I know you are working hard on getting swole.  Your tight tank top and determined look told me so.  But the panting and the grunting... it's too much.  It takes every bit of self control for me not to turn around and tell you that I think you might be overexerting yourself.  Take it down a notch or seven.  Maybe you don't have to rep it out.  As to the other guy who eats peanut butter sandwiches in the corner, I don't understand you, but that's okay.  You just keep up your committment to protein during your workout.

Shhhhhh,

Kath

Dear Brandon Pettigrew,

You know that ol' Chinese Proverb, if you love someone let them go?  Possibly not Chinese and probably not about Fantasy Football, but I think it applies to us.  After drafting you in at least one league every year since your rookie debut, I had to set you free.  Fly little dove, fly.  I want to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your breakout season, because I know that is what will happen.  You're welcome, Lions fans.  I did this for you.

May your rock hands tranform to huge sticky mits,

KHR

Tuesday Tantrums (and other letters)

Happy Tax Day!  I was a good citizen this year and finished my taxes early...27 hours early to be exact.  Another year, another handful of cuss words as I write my check to the state of Oklahoma.  I think since I have to pay money every year, I should have a little more say in the legislation.  My first proposed bill is outlawing wind.  Next up, no more chewing gum for anyone.  If you can't chew quietly, you don't deserve the privilege.

So, let's jump right into this Tuesday edition of letters, shall we?

Dear Facebook Friends,

What gives?  What's with holding back on important information?  At no time have I seen people post about the without-warning-full-out-tantrums children aged 18 months throw. Why isn't anyone talking about this?  As of this weekend, I am the proud owner of a child who may or may not be possessed.  I thought tantrums were brought on by something actually happening, not just because.  I don't even know how to handle such occurrences, because I fail to understand why a reasonable person would throw themselves to the floor and scream at the top of their lungs because their bib is removed.  How about a little less talk of potty training, and more talk about what to do when your child's soul is taken over by the dark side.  That'd be great.

Sincerely,

Confused Parent

Dear Professional Wrestling,

Thanks for the trip down memory lane lately.  I've had more conversations about WWF and professional wrestling in the last week than I have in 25 years.  It's been fantastic.  I've reminisced about being a Hulkamaniac, the Saturday morning cartoon Hulk Hogan Rock n' Wrestling, Junkyard Dog, Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat, and G.L.O.W. (gorgeous ladies of wrestling).  And by reminisced, I mean I talked about them and Husband stared back in confusion.  Whatever.  I'm clearly a more well-rounded person because of my knowledge of Rowdy Roddy Piper and the sleeper hold.  

Whatcha gonna do, brotha?

Kath

Dear Oklahoma Weather,

Earthquakes, tornado warnings, 80 degrees and snow all within 48 hours?  Yawn.  Until you produce a typhoon, I'm underwhelmed.

Wall clouds and thunder sleet, 

Kathy

Speaking of thunder...

Dear Thunder,

I'm totally not worried.  So you lost to Jeff Withey and the walk-ons.  No big woo.  Everyone just remain calm, we've got them right where we want them.  It's almost playoff time, so you've got my full attention.  I think everything is going to be A-OK.  Unlike previous years, you aren't the hottest team going into the playoffs, and I think that's good.  Let's take the Tom Izzo approach to winning, it only matters if you win in the post season.  Let's just focus on making the following players cry over the next couple of weeks: Manu Ginobili, Tim Duncan, Mario Chalmers and Joakim Noah.  I realize that we necessarily play the last two, but my dislike for them is equal.

Fair weather fan at her finest,

K

Dear OSU baseball,

So I don't want to pin all my hopes and dreams on Bedlam baseball...but I'm pinning all my hopes and dreams on Bedlam baseball, of which we get a preview tonight. My long and difficult plight as an OSU fan is well-documented.  I need the blood moon and the stars to align and give me a big fat series sweep.  No mercy.  As they say on Mortal Kombat: Finish them! (<-- okay, that's not an exact quote, just go with me).  Here's to letting the Hulkamania run wild.

Go Pokes!

K Rath 

That zombie is slow

Hey!  It's Friday and I found where I packed the stamps yesterday, so let's write some letters, shall we?

Dear Walking Dead Fans: 

You are so passionate about this show, and for that I say, "Bravo!"  But here's the deal, I caught the first five minutes of an episode the other day, and I don't really get it.  Those zombies seem pretty slow.  And stupid.  I watched two impale themselves without provocation.  Why would I be afraid of something dumb and slow?  It seems to me, you would just run away from them. And by run, I mean slow jog, maybe even racewalk.  They are really slow.  Also, why were all the zombies wearing plaid?  Is that a thing?

Not afraid,

Kathy

Dear Little Boosie,

So, I wasn't actually familiar with any of your work.  Forgive me.  I did, however, read an article  about how you managed to get arrested for drug possession hours after your release from prison.  HOURS.  At the end of the article, I was encouraged to show my support for you by tweeting #freeboosieagain.  After some deliberation, I've decided against that.  Because, I think if I had just been sprung from the pokey, I wouldn't be carrying a big bag of drugs.  That's why you have a posse/crew/homies.  Make them carry the illegal stuff.  I feel like maybe you are on the same level as the zombies.  How about this hashtag: #makebetterdecisions

Not a member of your crew,

K-Dogg

Dear Thunder Fans,

You can't love AND hate the same thing about Russell Westbrook.  You have to pick.  I choose to love him for the risks he take and just know that he's probably going to take some ill-advised shots.  It's what I like to call it the Brett Favre Effect.  Or the Gunslinger Effect.   It's like dating the "super fun guy."  You were attracted to him because he's so super fun.  Life of the party.  Then after you date for a while, you kind of wish he didn't ALWAYS have to be the center of attention.  Yeah, but he's Super Fun Guy.  That's his thing.  That's why you like being around him.  Because he's fun.  So lighten up a little.  Embrace the 5-seconds-into-the-shot-clock-contested-jumper, because when they go in...Booya! 

Wolverine is Back,

Kath

Dear Tiny Human,

I'm sorry I showed you that Katy Perry video the other night.  I had no idea it was so inappropriate.  I just thought you two were on the same level, so you'd enjoy California Gurls.  Who was to know? Katy Perry = Not Safe for One and Half Year Olds.  Lesson Learned.

P.S. I'm glad you liked Gin and Juice as much as I do.  The song, of course.  Not the drink. We all know you're more of a vodka girl.

XOXO,

Momster