A Letter To Lionsgate Studios

Another good letter idea, this time from irishamish. Also, the new Franz Ferdinand album is pretty good, you should check it out. It's more techno and dancy than the first two, though, which I don't enjoy as much.

Attn: CEO
2700 Colorado Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90404

Dear Mr. Executive,

Hello, to sunny California! It's currently 10 degrees in Ohio, with about four inches of ice and another six of slushy snow on top of that. But, on the other hand, my tax refund isn't being withheld this year. Other than that I hope you are doing well, sir!

I watch a fair amount of television, so the past few weeks I've noticed your commercials for the new movie "My Bloody Valentine 3D", about a group of sexy teenagers that anger a miner and cause him to throw pick-axes at them. The sexy movie audience always jumps out of their seats at this point, because the movie is in 3D and the axe flies out of the movie screen. It's so exciting! Still, it has been brought to my attention that not only is your title misleading and incorrect, it's also a missed marketing opportunity. Because, Mr. Lion, your movie isn't in 3D at all!

Are you ready?

It's in 4D!

You see, you guys are forgetting the temporal dimension. Haven't you seen Lost? This is one of the most important dimensions, with a set of rules that only very important people can break. Besides, think of the ad campaign you can do with four dimensions. "Other movies can only promise three dimensions, but Lionsgate Entertainment is proud to bring you "The Care Bears 4D, in temporal vision!" People will line up in droves to see this new movies. Of course, they might notice if we don't give them something special. I recommend Elizabeth Shue.

This reminds me, did you ever play Rad Racer for the Nintendo Entertainment System? We owned it, and if you pressed the select button the screen would turn into these pyschedelic colors that were supposed to make the game 3D, if you had glasses. I spent a lot of years wondering about that, until I finally got some cheap 3D glasses and tried it out. Nothing happened! Not that it would matter, you can't get past the third stage in that game. Who races in the desert anyway? Of course there are no gas stations out there!

Well, let me know what you think of my new advertising angle. I could come up with all sorts of great ideas like this, if you paid me. My moving expenses wouldn't be that much, either. I bet if you gave me money for a plane ticket I'd just pocket it and drive my car. What do you care how I get there! I just saved myself a hundred bucks!

Always thinking,

The Correspondent

A Letter to Crocs

This is dedicated to Patrick Wilbraham, who can't be with me today, because I'm the only one working in my office.

Mr. Ronald R. Snyder
CEO - Crocs, Inc.
6328 Monarch Park Place
Niwot, CO 80503

Dear Mr. Snyder,

It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am contacting you today because of a breakthrough I recently had in the field of ideas and progress. You see, last weekend I was at the volunteer's banquet for the Southwest-Central Ohio Iditarod, a bi-decade dog sledding race that I founded for the benefit of the Midwest, when my feet began to hurt in my dress shoes.

I was wearing a pair of sandy brown leather Moschino wingtips, and my entire foot was on fire. The toe was tight and restricting, and the heel gave insufficient cushioning during the bolero beat of Poncho Sanchez's Son Son Charari. I looked at the women dancing around me, and several of them had also eschewed their fancy footwear to go barefoot on the sawdust-covered dancefloor.

Well, I immediately thought of my Crocs-brand clogs, which I always wear in the gymnasium while working with my dog team. I can stand on a hard sled for hours without feeling a thing, and their durable yet gentle foam-rubber body is perfect for kicking an ornery Alaskan Malamute in the ribs. So I melding the two ideas in my head, and before you know it, the idea of Croc-brand dress shoes was born.

Now, I know what you're thinking. The last thing you need is another usurper trying to wrest money and power from your commission as Crocs president. I can guarantee you that is not my goal, and you can have my ideas free of charge. To be honest, I stay busy as it is with my sledding and philan-tropical causes (I'm half Haitian, and I love to give back to my people). No, you can take this idea and run with it full-force, and to back it up I'll sign any piece of paper your lawyers can come up with. I even drew some rough sketches of the first Croc formalwear prototypes. Go ahead and use the names I came up with, too - inspiration was meant to be shared!

I hope you'll soon have these new models on the buying market, as I will be attending another ball in March for the Midwest Euchre Invitational. Margaret Bath, VP of Research for the Kellogg Company will be there, and she can cut it on the dancefloor harder and faster than a SlapChop!

God speed in your endeavors,

The Correspondent

Reply From Virginia

Original letter can be found here. I really hope this clicks to a larger version, I am so sick of trying to figure out how to post photos here. It's souring my usually cheer deposition.

A Letter To Aunt Jemima

I never knew these feelings existed.

Gary Rodkin
President of The Quaker Oats Company
555 W Monroe Street Fl. 1
Chicago, IL 60661

Dear Mr. Rodkin,

Hello, sir. To immediately put your mind at ease, I am not writing to complain about your racist Aunt Jemima bottle. I found a similar letter on the internet and just want you to know that I don't want to get in the middle of that. It said her bandanna was racist, which has me a little worried, because I wear a bananna a lot in the summer. I wear a green one because it reminds me a little of the hat Link wears in The Legend of Zelda. I just love that game, I always thought Link would be a great name for a son, but my lady friend says, "no way, José!" Not that there's anything wrong with Mexicans...

Anyway, I'm in a little conundrum here. You see, in my cabinet are two 64 ounce bottles of your Aunt Jemima Maple Syrup, bought in unison at Sam's Club. My records show that they were purchased in June of 2007. I have finally depleted one bottle, but when I looked at the second it had an expiration date that reads January 2009. Well, sir, I do not know what to do.

It was my first trip to Sam's Club, you see, and I was trigger-happy with all the deals I saw. $8.69 for 128 ounces of syrup? It was too good to pass up. Around August, though, I was getting pretty sick of making pancakes, and my Aunt Jemima consumption nosedived. I tried to revive things with my Eggo fad of April 2008, but I burned out again and was left with 14 uneaten waffles in my box of sixty (Sam's Club again).

I don't want to waste this syrup, so is there anyway it will last another year and a half? Perhaps that expiration date is just something the government makes you put on there. I am so sick of government regulation! Or maybe the syrup has other uses that would benefit me, such as a facial wash or motor oil. I am willing to think outside the box on this one; $4.345 is hanging in the balance.

Please write me back with your advise on this remaining bottle of syrup. I need to figure out it's future so I may make room in the pantry for a 30 lb. bag of funnel cake mix (Sam's Club again).

Sincerely,

The Correspondent

I'm back.

Hello, friend. How are you? I took a little leave of absinthe, and I apologize about that. I should have told you. Writing a letter every day is very difficult. Actually, it isn't, but writing a good letter everyday is. I've never considered myself to be a perfectionist, but in thinking about it the last few days I might have a little of it in me. Or perhaps a perfectionist is just someone afraid of failing, I don't know.

Anyway, I have several good letter ideas to work off of, and I'm starting to see a small uptick in responses, even if they are generally banal. I can no longer promise that I will write one everyday, so I'm amending the note to the side, but I will try. If you have any letter ideas, please email me. Email me anyway, but especially if you have letter ideas. Unfortunately, "write to So-and So" is not a letter idea, because it still leaves me figuring out what to write about. I'm still trying to think of a reason to write the Crocs Company.

I wonder how long it will take me to build back the site hits? I had it up to 300-400 a day, you know. One day I even got to 800. I'm afraid to look at the stats now, but it's all good. I just like having fun and making people laugh, and I'm sure at least one of you will show up every day.

A Letter to The Columbus Dispatch

I wanted to practice writing a press release. And what's the point of writing something if you don't intend for it to be published?

P.S. Damnit, I hate when I do that! You RSS feed people just won this round...

Attn: Alan Miller, News Managing Editor
The Columbus Dispatch
34 S 3rd Street
Columbus, OH 43215
Re: PRESS RELEASE - FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Columbus, OH - The Correspondent, of somewhere in Columbus, has finally perfected his Creamy Potato Soup recipe, rendering the purchase of Campbell's soup and all of its competitors completely unecessary. The breakthrough came late last week after several attempts to make the best cold-day comfort food possible.

The Correspondent, a 25-year old writer and bandy-man, began his research months ago utilizing a plethora of internet recipes and taking the best parts from each one to create the supreme soup. He starts by boiling cubed Russet potatoes in salted water. "Salting the water is key," The Correspondent said. "The name of the soup game is 'flavor', and it pays off to start your seasoning right off the bat."

As the potatoes cook, The Correspondent then dices a bunch of green onions and two cloves of garlic. On special occasions, he will then forgo butter to pan fry a quarter pound of bacon in a cast iron skillet, then use the bacon grease to saute the onions and garlic.

"The bacon grease tastes like bacon, which means the onions will taste like bacon, which means the soup will taste like bacon. Bacon is awesome."

Once the onions are glistening, The Correspondent strains the potatoes and adds them to the skillet, to "add a good char" to the soup's components. He seasons them with more salt and pepper, including a few other seasonings such as onion powder and cajun spices. Then, with a few cups of chicken broth at a rolling boil, it all gets dumped into the pot.

"The key to great potato soup is to attain an 85/15 ratio of mushed potato to firm potato cubes. The soup is supposed to be thick and creamy, but a few potato chunks are a good thing. Texture is the dark-haired, exotic mistress of any good chef."

Once the soup is simmering, the only thing left is a few glugs of whole cream and a jigger or two of The Correspondent's secret ingredient, which he says "takes this soup from so-so to 'whoa, whoa, who made this awesome soup? I bet he's a really great guy and good at sports.'"

If you're interested in trying this amazing soup, you unfortunately don't have a lot of options. You can try to contact The Correspondent at his Columbus home, but he'll only respond with the recipe as time allows. You can also try inviting yourself over, but his apartment is small and there isn't a lot of dining space. Please bring a chair.

Mr. Miller - if you have any follow up questions or need additional information, please contact me at the above address.

A Letter to the Refectory

It's so easy to write a letter when I have an idea already. This is the opposite of that.

Kamas Boulos
Owner - The Refectory Restaurant
1092 Bethel Road
Columbus, Ohio 43220

Dear Mr. Boulos,

How are you today, sir? I hope you are well. I have had a fairly boring evening. My lady friend and I went to Sam's Club in search of wholesale boxes of Ensure Geriatric Drink. She's entered into a rigorous exercise program, you see, and has been feeling a little lightheaded during the day on her present caloric diet. Since it would be difficult for her to pack more food from home, we thought perhaps she could drink an Ensure each day and stave off the shakes.

Unfortunately, Sam's Club didn't carry Ensure. They did, however, carry a generic "dietary supplement drink" in the baby food section of their pharmacy. It's carbohydrates were fairly high, though, and apropos of her workout program she decided she would rather forgo a starchy drink in favor of something with more protein. We did, however, pick up a 15-pack of buns and a book of stamps, which will come in handy when I mail this letter.

Now, driving home from our shopping trip we passed your restaurant, The Refectory, one of Columbus' finest culinary establishments. I personally have never been there, mostly because I cannot afford it and partly because the name reminds me of the words 'factory' and 'refinery', which then leads to thoughts of gasoline and animal lard. I'm sure, however, that once inside I would forget completely about rendered pig fat and crude oil derivatives in lieu of what I imagine must be a mouth-watering menu.

Outside of your restaurant, though, is another matter. I was surprised and disappointed to see that your American flag, although flying high and well-lit, was in tatters (like Mick Jagger). The lowest stripe was almost completely torn free; it hung limp as a warm string cheese! Which of the thirteen colonies deserves such disrespect? New Hampshire? Maryland? Georgia? Don't answer about that last one. At least they gave us Coke!

Listen, I'm not here to judge you. All I'm saying is, you've already got a French chef. I'd like to think these things are mere coincidences, but what do I know? And I know anybody can complain, which is why I'm doing it. I think you should take your flag down and seek out a veterans group or Boy Scout troop so that it can be properly disposed of. Then, please buy a new flag and fly it high and proud. No thanks are necessary, not even a free gift certificate for dinner for two. I don't even think I could use it. All my lady friend eats is spaghetti and toast. One time I tricked her into eating venison and I thought she would slice my throat in the night.

Cheers,


The Correspondent

A Letter To Death

Remember how hard Death was in Castlevania? He was harder than Dracula! Hello!

Paul T. Walker, Jr.
Union Cemetery
3349 Olentangy River Road
Columbus, OH 43202

Dear Mr. Walker,

I hope you are well, sir. I come to you with a delicate issue that I'm hoping you can resolve. You see, every Monday I take my five year-old neice to her belly-dancing class (her parents are very progressive) at Ohio State, and we pass by your Union Cemetery. Well, she began to notice a light on in the home located at the front gate of the cemetery, and has watched it for the last three weeks. It appears to be from a large television. Naturally, she asked me who it was that lived in the cemetery.

Well, sir, this is where I faltered. I did not know what to say, so I stalled by asking her, "Who do you think lives there?" Now, I was recovering from a cold, so my throat was very scratchy and phlegmy at the time, and I'm afraid I sounded much more ominous than I intended. I think she thought I was warning her or something, because her eyes got real big and she whispered, "Death!"

No matter what I said after that, she wouldn't give it up. To make matters worse, she asked me what he was watching, and I said "The Dog Whisperer" (it was the first thing that popped into my head). Now her parents are furious at me, because she refuses to be driven past the cemetery, and she cries whenever her father takes their labradoodle for a walk. She thinks Death is after Mr. Rustypaws (Rusty for short).

I've made a real mess of things, Mr. Walker. If you could write me back a letter explaining that Death does not live in your office, and that he doesn't want Mr. Rustypaws, I would really appreciate it. I could read it to her, and maybe she would buy that. She's such a smart kid, though! Do you have any special letterhead you could write on, so she knows I didn't fake it myself? Something with a watermark would be perfect.

Thanks so much for any help you can render, Mr. Walker. I think you run a very beautiful cemetery, and it always looks very clean from the street. It's a shame you have that grungy Kohl's sitting across the street.

Peacefully Yours,


The Correspondent

A Letter To a Financial Advisor

How do we make money? It's simple: volume.

Anthony Venetta
6055 Tain Drive
Dublin, OH 43017

Dear Mr. Venetta,

Sir, you need to sit down. Are you sitting? I'll give you a moment to find yourself a really comfortable chair.

Ok. Now, what would you say if I told you we could amass a quantity of wealth so towering that no economic recession could ever cripple our incredibly decadent and immoral lifestyles? That no matter what, we'd never run out of caviar, beautiful red-headed women or gold-leaf toilet paper? I know what you'd say, you'd say, "Please tell me how in the next paragraph."

Well, Tony, today is your lucky day, because I just hit the enter button. Two words....Forever stamps. Yes! Think about it! The United States Postal Service is printing new money every single day, but it isn't green! Tiny little dollar bills with adhesive backs, that's where you and I will invest! Fact: the price of stamps will never stop going up. Fact: We can buy a gargantuan supply of forever stamps today for 42 cents apiece. Then, when the price inevitably skyrockets, we sell. We sell hard, Mr. Venetta.

You may ask yourself, why is this man sharing his investment secrets with me? Why do I deserve his help after all those terrible things I've done? It's simple, Mr. Venetta. I need a man on the inside. You'll be my eyes and ears in the places I can't go. And, years from now when you're enjoying your billions on some sandy beach at Hilton Head, I'll call on you for a favor. It may be a trifle - a parking violation I need help with or a jacket zipper that broke. Or, I may need you to kill a man, who knows. It will probably help me to have a list of your various skills. Are you any good at laying tile and grout? What do you know about faux finishes?

I understand that since you don't know me you may hesitate to put your financial future in my hands. Fear not, though. I graduated from one of the most forward-thinking liberal arts schools in Ohio. I also invented the Hepa Nose Filter and am the two-time defending champion of the Sothwest-Central Ohio Iditarod, the toughest dogsledding race in the lower 48. "The Mush of the Midwest!" they call it. You can call it that, too.

Well, sir, that's my proposal. If you'd like me to present it personally at your office in front of many colleagues, I can, but I'll probably just stand up and read the letter. I will make sure my belt matches my shoes. Just let me know.

Your Partner,


The Correspondent

Let's Try This Again

President Mark Erickson wrote me back about my big new ideas for the future of Wittenberg University.

Original Letter


...and the reply.