An Explanation, And Then Two Letters

The Explanation:

Ralphie and the pink stays until Christmas has passed-unless I change my mind. After Christmas I'll go back to something a little more unisex (UGH! I hate that word), or at least, less pink.

Letter One:

Dear 95.5 FM,

Before I get down to business let me say you are my most favorite radio station. EVER. I've grown up with you man, and I gotta say I heart you (hard).
But lately, you've change. You're still great during the day, still let Paul Harvey tell us like it is three times a day, but sometimes (read: most of the time) at night, you change. Suddenly you are no longer that awesome "best of the 90s mix" I remember so well. No, when the big 5:00 rolls around you shift into overdrive. But...RAP!!!? WHY!!!!!????
I know that I now live where even the chicest of geeks are blasting "Big Pimpin'" through speakers so large they occupy an entire trunk, who wear their pants around their thighs and who have as many gangsta' leans as Tyra Banks has model walks, but come on!
What's up, yo?
Have you forgotten your roots? Forgotten that our town's biggest exports are lumber and bluegrass music? Doesn't anybody care about you anymore? Is this a cry for attention or are you being rebellious because mom wouldn't let you go to Hooters for your birthday this year? Get over it kid. Dad isn't coming back and you know it. YOU KNOW IT!!

In conclusion, stop being a dumbass, and play some tunes!

Still hearting you (hard)(for now),
Amelia

Letter Two:

Dear Winter:

Hurry Up!

Love,
Amelia