Go ahead and dump a company that's been mooching off you for too long. Tell 'em about your new big thing.

By the way, you're fabulous. Have I told you that lately? You look really good. No, it's more than just your hair. You have a certain... I don't know... glow? Anyway, I just thought I'd say something. I know things have been a little rough lately. For you. For all of us. This is all so hard on all of us. Here, let me give you my number, and my e-mail address, so in case you ever need anything or whatever. Here's my cell phone number, too, in case you need that. I have this webpage, and you can reach me there. My office number. My card. Just, you know, in case you need someone to talk to... to come over or something. You just look like you could use a friend right now. That's what I'd like to be. If you'd have me. I'm gonna go over there now and stare at you from behind my pint glass, but if you start feeling weak, I'm ready to enable from right over there.

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Answers

Dear AOL,

Quit fooling yourself. It was never meant to be. All it was to me was a four-night stand, a fling to pass the time and get my email while I was on a business trip. I dumped your ass before I got home, and my boyfriend already knows about you.

Really, what did you expect? A meaningful relationship, when all you do is dress like a slut in your shiny shrinkwrap, peddling your 500 free hours like a cheap whore. Have some self respect! And stay out of my mailbox. No means no. Don't make me put your CDs in the microwave.

Loree

P.S. - Do yourself a favor -- call their customer service and tell them to take you off their mailing list, unless you feel you need an extensive collection of gaudy coasters.

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Dear Seattle Times,

Dumping you was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. But, honey, you suddenly started coming around in the morning when I'm all rushed and don't even have time to eat breakfast, let alone spend any quality time with you. What's wrong? Don't you remember the years of lazy evenings spent together cuddling in my armchair, talking about current events? Why'd you have to switch to the morning?

I know it's hard for you... we were together over seven years. It's hard for me, too. But, please, stop coming over! I called you two weeks ago and said in no uncertain terms that it was over. But every morning, I find you crawling up to my door, hoping to re-kindle our flame. It's over! I mean it! You're not getting one more dime out of me!

Coolly,
Kate

p.s. I am kind of enjoying our friends-with-privileges cuddle time as long as you're in the neighborhood. Don't think you'll make me change my mind and take you back, though.

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

darling pamie, your kind words brought a smile to my slightly-glazed expression. i wish i could tell about the great new opportunity i'll be taking, as this dump can't give us a raise this march- wait until sept., they say, and THE univ. might force us to... i'm whoring myself for insurance and a small amount of flex time.

ashamed. i'm so ashamed.

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

What? Monica was on the cover of Jane? What?

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Dear Details,

Please stop coming to my house. I mean it. My roommate canceled you 4 months ago and I thought that was it. But you just can't let it die - CAN YOU?! Look - 10 years ago you were really cool and I was proud to have you by my side, but times have changed.Dude, you don't even know who you are. Are you gay? Are you straight? You don't have a fucking clue. And for God's sake, have some dignity. You'll be going away soon anyway, why are you insisting on groveling for new subscribers? I'm not interested. You're embarassing! Don't you realize how uncomfortable I am when my friends see you peeking out from a pile of garbage? I mean, how do I explain it? Just. Go. Away

With Absolute Sincerity,

Sarah

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Dear Maxim- I am going to ask you one last time. Calmly step away from my mailbox and my boyfriend. Do you have any idea how hard I have worked for nearly 4 years to get him to where he is? He doesn't even remember the address of his former frat house. He even threw out his MTV Party to Go CD. Your control is waning buddy. You only come around once a month. You're not there for him the way I am. I guess you haven't heard. He read a book and sometimes he even cooks dinner. You're just busted, no good, a wash out, a has-been. And while I'm ashamed to admit it, I picked you up the other day and you know what? You're not even that funny. You're predictable and cliche. If I see you around my place again, they'll be hell to pay. Got it? Sincerely, Jen G.

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Dear Columbia House and BMG Music Service,

First of all, I bet neither of you knew that I was seeing you at the same time, did you? For five years I juggled the both of you, but I never meant for it to happen that way. Columbia House, you were my first. You found me my freshman year of college, broke and alone with a brand new CD player. You lured me in with your promise of free CDs just for giving you a penny and buying a CD or two from you a couple of years down the road. What could I do? I needed Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits bad. Real bad. So I became your filthy little whore.

A couple of years later, there was you, BMG. My best friend at the time was already within in your grasp, and because she could never get enough of those free CDs, I let her hook me up with you. We both got what we wanted (the Eagles' Greatest Hits Vol. 1 & 2), but felt dirty after. So,so dirty.

But things have changed, boys. I am now a grown, independent woman who doesn't need your damn pity CDs anymore. I finally realized that the money I could save in postage on your reply cards and on returning CDs I never ordered (you're sneaky like that, aren't you?) would by me all the used CDs I wanted.

That's right, you heard me. I found another. And Used CDs doesn't show up at my door uninvited, he doesn't cost me $18.99 plus shipping and handling, and I bet if I ever stop seeing him, he'll let me go without a fight. Unlike you guys.

It's time to let go. I sent both of you your Dear John letters already, but you just keeping mailing me things, telling me how much you miss me and how you'll give me more free CDs AND a free dufflebag if I'll just come back to you. I'm not going to lie - free copies of Third Eye Blind and Matchbox 20 are tempting. But we're through. For good. Please don't make me send over Used CDs to kick your ass.

Not yours anymore, Erin

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Dear BMG music,

I'll be your dirty whore! I love it when you send me those sheets of stickers, just like National Geographic used to do when I was a little kid. And I can pick Santana out of the middle of the sheet and have to tear it 12 times before I get that one precious little square to lick and stick to your order form. I love that. I never get tired of it, not even in an age of Internet savvy in which I could easily do all this online -- without that weird glue taste in my mouth. But I love you. You don't judge me when I order Guns and Roses and The Carpenters all at once. You're not like that.

Breathlessly awaiting my latest order,

Leigh Anne

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Not that I'd ever want to defend AOL, but "email" seems like a perfectly acceptable noun.

Chris

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Sarah:

It may please you to note that Details is dead.

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Dear Marlboro:
LEAVE ME ALONE! Stop sending me your Unlimited magazine. Do you even know what's in it? It's full of sporty things that REAL smokers can never do. Rock climbing? Arctic cave spelunking? Please. I'll bet not one of those sporty guys in your mag has ever looked at a smoke. Otherwise, it would be full of "Let's take a break" photos of team members huffing and puffing. "What? We've only climbed 1000 feet? My lungs are burning, man!"
And what's with those "Marlboro Ranch" things you keep sending me? Knock it off.
And what's with the birthday card? I can read between the lines. "Happy birthday from Marlboro. We're glad you're still alive and kicking, proving that cigarette smoking is not deadly."
Stay out of my mailbox.
Sincerely,
Sarah
she's actual size

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

Dear School of The Museum of Art Boston,

I am not going to your school just because I toured it. Sending me multiple catalogs featuring minority students smiling and laughing as they eat at one of your many fine "dining areas" (read:cafeteria) is not going to convince me. Seriously. I know those big half-inch things take effort, and you're really wasting it on me. C'mon, get up off your knees; you're not that desparate.

Same to you, MIT. I know you saw my PSAT scores, but once you see my grades, you'll want nothing to do with me. So just stop it. I know Madeline Albright went there. I'm not going to invest any energy in a relationship with you when we both know it'll end in failure. Yeah, yeah, you say I'm your number one girl, but you say that to all your money-grubbing capatalistic pocket-protected hos. Everyone knows it's the graduate students that you want, you just talkin' sweet to me so you can be the dope-ass playa, telling all your boys you got more cum laudes than Harvard. It hurts, but it's better we both get this through our heads now: I am not going to MIT.

-- Anonymous, March 28, 2000

dear credit card darlings, i'm not who i used to be. you can't slip into bed with me if you can't get my "new" (yeah, 4 mos. old) last name right. and, for those of you clever enough to get the last name right- you're so busted when you write the WRONG middle initial. that changed too, baby. there ain't no middle name no more- damn those social security people. just a letter, baybee. just a letter.

so, if you can't say my name baby, you can hit the curb b/c i be ripping yo shit up and tossin' it to the bin.

yo.

-- Anonymous, March 29, 2000

Dear Credit Card Companies,

Along those same lines, your mail is not even going to be opened if you get my GENDER incorrect. I know that "Leigh" is an either/or name, but for chrissakes already. I'm a woman. Whatever list you're buying my name from should have that kind of information.

Not confused about my sexual identity, Leigh Anne

-- Anonymous, March 29, 2000

Dear Amnesty International, Planned Parenthood, and Democratic National Committee,

Listen, I'm not letting you play me like a sucker anymore. You come around with your faux-handwritten labels and chat me up like I'm special, but in the end, it's always about *your* needs. You just want to get what you came for and then split. I know the only reason you're even talking to me is because that bitch The Nation said I was easy. Well I dumped Nation's sorry ass and I'll dump yours too. I'm sick of you hiting me up every time you want some, as if I didn't have my own needs, as if I didn't have my own problems. It's like I'm only good for one thing, and even if I gave you some last month, you act like you deserve more now.

So until you can learn to stop being so grabby, just stay out of my life.

P.S. I've been "donating" to the United Farmworkers the entire time.

-- Anonymous, March 29, 2000

Isn't this writing letters in your entry getting a bit old and overdone?

-- Anonymous, March 30, 2000

Dear Karen G.:
Damn! Better tell that evil sadist holding a gun to your head to knock it off, just in case you're forced to read (in their entirety) and then respond to entries you don't like.

I mean, they're free and all, but you certainly shouldn't suffer so.

:) hehehe

Dear Pamie:
I think the letters are funny.

-- Anonymous, March 30, 2000

Dear Pamie:
What the last girl said. You rule. Your letters make me laugh. Someday you're going to be a Famous Comedy Person and then we're going to be able to say that we knew you way back when.

xoxo
Jan

Dear Telemarketers,
I've had it with your shit. Every night at 9 p.m. the phone rings and I jump up and run over and answer it, because who could be calling at 9 p.m.? Could it be my Mom with terrible family news? Is it a friend calling to make weekend plans??

Then I hear the *click* pause, and I know it's you. You sick bastards. And then you ask me if I want to buy some of what you got. Well, listen to me now and believe me next Thursday, I don't want none of what you got. And I'm not gonna be polite anymore. I told one of your brethren last night to "eat me", and if another one calls me tonight, I have some even more choice words planned.

No more Ms. Nice Person. You've been warned.

Don't call,
Jan

-- Anonymous, March 30, 2000

Dear Continental Airlines,

Why did you send me an e-mail telling me to send my boarding pass stubs to get credit for frequent flyer miles, then when I did, you sent me another e-mail telling me boarding passes weren't valid, and I had to send in receipts. Why does it say on the back of the boarding pass stub "retain this stub as proof of your journey" if it's not valid?? Why didn't you answer my e-mail when I asked you that question?

You are idiots. I have been trying for a month to get credit for these miles, and I want them now. I had e-tickets you fools. Get with the program. I would never use your airlines now if it wasn't for work.

No love,

Joy

-- Anonymous, March 31, 2000

Dear Teen.com,

Yes, I know I was stupid to subscribe to eCrush. I know it was pointless and silly and absolutely ridiculous, since I don't have a crush on anyone and if I did, I wouldn't want them to know about it. I know I was asking for it. But I've been punished enough.

I thought I'd just be getting a couple of nice, friendly emails a week, maybe with some of those wonderful Free Money!!! Just For Checking Your Email!!! offers. I didn't know you were going to give my address to Teen.com, not to mention this insane woman called Crissy Wood who won't stop writing me. I didn't know that I would be receiving, on average, eleven mails a day from you and your consorts of darkness. I didn't know I'd have to go in there once or twice a day just to clear away the clutter so I can read my real email. I tried to unsubscribe, but the mails didn't stop.

Please. I know I've been a fool, but I've learned my lesson. I'll never ever ever put my name on a mailing list ever again. Please call off your insane stalker people. I've gotten the point.

I don't want to learn how to Plan Events For Free! or Rate-A-Date or Have The Perfect Prom With e-Crush. I don't want to get any more War and Peace-size newsletters that are apparently published every six minutes. I just want you to leave me alone.

Sincerely and desperately,

Erika K.

Oh, and pamie? Hey...thanks.

-- Anonymous, June 02, 2000