Category Archives: Totally random

Generic Pot?

My friend Christopher (aka @jackassletters) is owner and chief writer of the funniest letters to dignitaries and corporate figureheads you’ll ever read. Visit his site for the hilarity, and then come back to read my letter, below.

Disclaimer: I wrote the letter in an attempt to write a guest post for Jackass Letters. I do not smoke pot, and I really didn’t expect them to send me any samples. It’s no surprise, however, they didn’t respond. Since they didn’t, the letter won’t end up on Christopher’s website. I’m posting it here, because I can’t throw anything away, and it’s too good to waste.

Paula Gurz, Branch Manager
Geneva Pharmaceuticals, Inc.
2655 West Midway Boulevard
Broomfield, CO 80020-7186

RE: New Product Development

Dear Ms. Gurz,

I’m curious how the new Medical Marijuana legislation in Colorado, and many parts of the U.S., will impact your business, and the Colorado economy.

There are a lot of marijuana dispensaries in Colorado, especially in the Denver area, and from what I can tell, everyone is selling Brand Name marijuana, like White Rhino, White Widow, Blackberry Kush, and a bunch of others. Since the FDA gives Brand Names a chance to get their money first before a drug can go generic, I’m wondering how long it will be before you will be able to produce Generic Medical Marijuana.

I don’t know if you’ve checked into this yet, but most of the dispensaries are charging more than $400 per ounce! With the hundreds of thousands of people carrying Red Cards across the US, this is big money. The public could really use the affordability of Generics. This would be an awesome opportunity for the first pharmaceutical company to jump on board. I’m hoping that company will be you. The production could create new jobs in our state, and the boost in revenues would be great for the economy.

Not only that, but since you already ship to pharmacies, the ability to pick up medical marijuana at my local Walgreens, and paying just the insurance copay would be both a time and money saver.

Is Generic Pot on the horizon for Geneva Pharmaceuticals? If so, when will it be available? I heard you do a lot of clinical trials for your new drugs. Can I get some samples?

I’d like to try pot to see if it makes me feel better, but I don’t know where to get the good stuff, and I don’t think it’s safe to buy it on Colfax. I know if I got some from you, it would be primo. If I can’t get samples from you, do you know who I can trust? Maybe you could ask around. I’ll bet someone in Marketing would know.

Also, do you know why they’re called “Red cards?” It seems like it would make more sense to call them “Green Cards,” but that’s already taken. Maybe they should change the name of the green cards so everything makes more sense. That’s more of an observation than a question, really. But if you have any answers, that would be great.

Peace out,
Barbara Bailey

The Joke’s On Me

April 1st is my second-favorite “holiday”, and my third-favorite day of the year. I’ve been playing silly tricks on people for nigh on 40 years. They’re always juvenile and transparent. I like the “victim” to laugh along with me.

This year, I sent out an April Fools email, hoping people would “get” it, and catch me in the prank. Sadly, less than 4% of my friends clicked the link, and even fewer got the joke, which ended up with me backpedaling about 100 times.

Worst April Fools Day joke, ever.

Here’s the over-the-top, pompous, self-promotional email I sent:

You know how much I love public speaking, but probably didn’t realize I’m also a singer-songwriter. I’ve been keeping this hush-hush for several months now, but the documents were finalized today, and I now have a record deal to release my first single.

So, in addition to being a web developer, online marketing specialist, social media consultant, founder of BW4W, and professional public speaker, I can finally add “Singer” to my list of accomplishments.

I’d like to share this special day with you by giving you a sneak peak to listen to my first single: “Do you know what day it is?” –

Anyone who’s been on the internet for any length of time would know what they’d get when they click the link. But not my trusting friends. Not the people who believe in me. The people I totally betrayed with a simple joke that they didn’t get.

I’m such a jerk.

So then, to all the people who sent congratulations without clicking the link, and all the others who responded to tell me the link went to the wrong video, and not mine, I sent another email:

LOL! Happy April 1st. You’ve been Rickrolled. 🙂

Nobody; not a single person replied with “Ha ha, you got me.” Obviously, I’m the most hated person in my social circle right now.

Wait just a minute… I’m not a jerk.

How big is the rock all these people have been living under ??? That Rick Astley video has over 31 MILLION views. I’m not the only one doing a bit of rickrolling. Are my friends the only people on earth who have never been rickrolled? For crying out loud, even the Mets and Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade were rickrolled. If this meme has gone on so long that things as All-American as Parades and Baseball have been rickrolled, how have these people never heard of it?

I am boggled. Absolutely boggled.

Of course, husband (Mr. Voice of Reason) said not to do the Rickroll. Naturally, I didn’t listen to him, which means he has a whole wad of “I told you so’s” he’s waiting to drop on me.


I was making fun of Google for giving away the punch line too early in this years’ April Fools joke, and as it turns out, mine didn’t even have a punch line.

To my friends, and family, feel free to borrow my pick and shovel to get yourself out from under that rock, so you can join the rest of the world. Don’t say I never gave you anything. Besides chicken pox.

The Cat Letters

My good friend Christopher is one of the funniest people I know. We’ve never met face-to-face, and never talked on the phone, but we met on Twitter, and clicked. One of the many reasons I love twitter: I’ve met some totally awesome people who I consider friends, who live in parts of the world I have no plans to visit. Don’t judge me. I can make friends IRL, too. Twitter just cuts through the crap, and doesn’t require me to clean my house on a regular basis on the outside chance someone might stop by for tea and cookies.

Mmmm… tea and cookies. BRB.

Christopher’s website is a total hoot. He composes strange, silly, and unexpected letters to famous people and businesses, and then posts their responses. Don’t click the link until you’ve read the letters below to get a hint of what you’re in for.

Letter to SmartyKat:

Christopher L. Jorgensen
P.O. Box 93042
Des Moines, IA 50393

December 7, 2009

SmartyKat Catnip
PO Box 3360
San Rafael, CA 94912-3360

Dear SmartyKat,

First off, I couldn’t give two tosses about SmartyKat Certified Organic Catnip, but my cat does, and insists I write this letter. Unfortunately, she can’t do so on her own (the lack of opposable thumbs and the whole brain the size of a walnut thing coming into play), but I have promised I will try to transcribe her thoughts as well as I am able.

I don’t want to speak out of turn, but after a long night with your nip, my cat seems to get the munchies something fierce. She has all of Iowa fresh grown catnip at her disposal, but insists on your product. I am guessing she considers the fresh stuff to be “ditch weed,” or “Iowajuananip.”

Anyway, after a session of SmartyKat Certified Organic Catnip, my cat INSISTS on Purina Cat Whisker Lickin’s Tartar Control Crunch Lovers – Crab, but the problem here is this doesn’t seem to be available anymore. So I am left with few options:

1. Do you have an underground source for crab flavored cat treats?
2. Could you let my cat know supply lines are beyond my control?
3. Do you make anything for people?
4. Is there a catnip treatment program I am unaware of?

Something has to give, and I am hoping it’s not me! The way things stand now I fear my cat will kill me in my sleep. I can only sleep with one eye open for so long. Please help!

Christopher L. Jorgensen

I can’t believe they didn’t write back. Since my cat loves SmartyKat and Whisker Lickin’s, I was really hoping for some answers.

To show you what a cat lover he is, he said I could share Letter #2, to Scoop Away, another product we use in our house. And, as a mom, I think his idea is bordering on brilliant. Or insanity.

Either way, enjoy:

Christopher L. Jorgensen
P.O. Box 93042
Des Moines, IA 50393  

May 12, 2008

Scoop Away
c/o Clorox Pet Products Co.
1221 Broad Way
Oakland, CA 94612

Dear Scoop Away,

I love your Multiple Cat Formula Scoop Away Super Clump cat litter. I only have one cat, but I am not always diligent about changing her litter. I figure one cat with litter changed less often is like having a lot of cats and changing it a lot.

Though there is perhaps an overlooked way you could increase marketing share. I’ve read your legal disclaimer, so know I can expect nothing if you do decide to use my idea. It would still be super cool of you guys if you sent me a token of appreciation when you do produce this product: “Kiddy Litter!”

Think about it, parents have to wait until a child can walk and take interest in the toilet before potty training can occur. This could be solved by a box of “tightly clumping” “Kiddy Litter!” and a tyke sized ramp. Babies and infants crawl from a very early age. It would be much easier to teach a kid how to “bury it” than to constantly change diapers. This would also have a positive impact on the environment.

Instead of a landfill filled with discarded diapers a parent could purchase a bag of Multiple Baby Formula Scoop Away Super Clump “Kiddy Litter!” Even if they have only one baby, they could do like I do with my cat. Just change the litter less often.

The only downside I see is keeping the cats out of the kids’ box, but maybe you could come up with a dual use formula and they could share. Let me know what you think!

Christopher L. Jorgensen

Okay, now go to His Website. If you don’t laugh your ass off, I don’t know you at all.

Then, do this for me, and everyone who cherishes the written word: If you have 5 bucks (or more) laying around, buy yourself some good karma and send it to Christopher so he can keep me, and all his fans, in stitches.

Glorious Spring

Springtime in Colorado is fabulous. Sunshine, warm breeze, flowers popping their little heads out of the ground. Many people (Hi Dad!) think all of Colorado is under an eternal ice cap with occasional glimpses of sun, but it’s quite the opposite. I live in the burbs of Denver, where we get 300 days of sunshine, or so the Chamber of Commerce (who would never exaggerate, right?) says.

Some people hate our weather because it’s so unpredictable. It can be 75 degrees one day, and 35 the next. We’ll have a day that’s so windy, Antie Em would be calling frantically for Dorothy, followed by a dumping of snow, and then a day of shorts and sandals. I lived far too long in the Midwest with its predictable weather; snow starts falling in September, and stays on the ground until the last of the permafrost melts in June. I’ll take the fickle weather, since it brings with it the ability to see the actual ground more days than not.

So, today, I’m out driving my VW Passat with the sunroof open, enjoying the sunshine and wind in my hair, being a big girl and resisting the urge to put my hands out the top to wave at passersby. I was feeling as sassy as a cat on a window sill, and pitied all the poor folks with solid metal over their heads. As I pulled up to the light, all smug and happy, a pretty blue Corvette convertible pulled alongside me in the next lane. The driver smiled at me with sun on his face. And I still had plenty of metal above my head.

Well played, Mr. Corvette. Well played.


At least I got a free egg out of the deal

We’ve harmoniously co-existed with the chickens next door for about 8 months or so. Every now and then, the dogs go to the fence and sniff really hard, but other than that, you’d never know they were there.

Until this morning. I have a cold/flu/the plague, so when I got up this morning to let the dogs outside, I was planning to climb right back into bed. That never happened.

I should have looked into the backyard before I opened the door. But, with a 6-foot fence surrounding our property, I never expected to have an intruder.

Bob, the overgrown puppy, blasted through the door as soon as my hand was on the latch. Simba was right on her heels. In that split second, I looked up to see a brown Speckled Sussex hen clucking away in the back yard, and it looked like the dogs were going to have chicken for breakfast.

The Plague has given me laryngitis, so as I attempted to scream No! Stop! Leave it! Get back in here!, I chased the dogs as they chased the frightened hen around the yard, her wings and my arms, flapping in time. Finally, the dogs chased her under the deck, I got the dogs inside, and sat down to catch my breath.

Wouldn’t you know, the lady who owns the birds is out of town, and out of cell range. Her husband is hunting and won’t be back until tomorrow night. But, their eldest son was at home, so he came over to see if he could find the hen. She was so far in the recesses of the deck that she couldn’t be seen. He surmised she must be hurt and dying, and went home. He was happy to leave it like that. Obviously, not a fan of the chicks.

I thought about the possibilities:
1. She could come out on her own
2. She could stay under there and die

I was really rooting for option #1. No way do I want a dead chicken rotting under my back deck.

I waited at the window, watching for her to emerge. An hour went by. Then another. My dogs still needed to pee. I took them out on a supervised pee break, headed back in and called the neighbor kid again.

He came back with bird food. Shook the cup, called “here chick, chick, chick” and… nothing. Not a sound from under the deck. No movement. I hooked up the garden hose, and started soaking the deck, thinking a mad, wet hen would come running out the other side.


We looked in one end, and around the other. We stomped on the deck. Perhaps I was overdosed on cold medicine, but I was getting frantic.


I earned this

There’s a small section where the deck doesn’t quite meet the house. It finally occurred to me to remove the piece of wood we put there to keep the dogs from messing with the outside faucet, and heard a very pissed off bird. We looked in the hole, and there she was, with an egg, down in the window well. Did she get so upset she plopped an egg? Or, did she think she was going to be stuck there for life, and decided to hatch some company? Don’t ask me. I don’t know how chickens think. Or if they do.

Of course, there wasn’t room to get the bird out, so we tramped downstairs, opened the window, and rescued the bird. By “we” I mean, we both went downstairs, and he rescued the bird. And then rescued the egg, which he gave to me.

That’s why I buy my eggs in the supermarket. I can’t take the drama.