Monday, August 31, 2009

An open letter to Sylvia Browne

Or Brown, depending on the legal function.

Dear Sylvia,

I've been a housewife for a long time. Eons. Which means that I had opportunity to watch Montel Williams on TV near daily up until his show went off air. Most of those days he wore a vest. He looks spectacular in a vest. Wednesdays on Montel were special days because YOU were the guest of honor!


No psychic powers necessary to predict Montel's wardrobe.

What's motivated me to write to you today is learning that in the spring you'll be hopping on over to my neck of the desert to do a show at our fabulous casino concert hall. What a change from working on cruise ships right? Heads up though...you still might need some Dramamine when visiting the casinos.

I would like to know how much tickets will be. They don't go on sale until near Christmas and I'm not as talented as you are about precognitzerizing those details. That close to the holidays one needs to budget you know. After all, a phone reading with you will set me back 850 bucks. Seeing your manicure in person could cripple what little retirement fund my husband and I have left in these troubling times.

Wow...them are some talons.

Do I have questions for you! None of them are about dead people however. I figure that if dead people wanted to talk to me that they can figure out how to do it themselves. None of the people who I know to be dead were especially dense in life. They were pretty competent people. If a message was really important they'd call or at least text.

No, what I want to know is if Brad and Angelina is a happily ever after story. I so want it to be. They are so pretty.

No, wait, I want to know if Katie will end up divorcing Tom because he's weird.

No, no, wait! I want to know if we'll finally get a Walmart or Kmart in my town. Like soon. It makes absolutely no sense to pay for shipping for stuff with the "As seen on TV!" labeling on the box if I don't have to. That zebra print Snuggie is calling my name.

Finally...what is that smell? My god, is it my cat? Or was it me? You know it's bad when you can't tell the difference.

With the exception of the smell question, I think everything else can wait until spring. No rush. No phone call necessary either. We wouldn't want you to strain your voice yakkin' at me.

Love,

Becky..The Absent Minded Housewife

4 comments:

  1. Perhaps that smell is the neighbours cat.

    Have fun with Sylvia.

    Erf

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'd do her.

    But she knows that already.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Dear Author www.absentmindedhousewife.com !
    I congratulate, your idea is magnificent

    ReplyDelete
  4. I want to quote your post in my blog. It can?
    And you et an account on Twitter?

    ReplyDelete

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