dear big bird,

  growing up, i looked up to you in so many ways. you helped me learn to count, you taught me to tie my shoes. i practiced my abc's with you, and when you were left alone by your friends i cried with you. you seemed to go through everything i was experiencing at almost the same time. i thought of you as the big brother i never had - except you never sat on my head or melted my g.i. joe's out of spite like a normal brother would do. instead, you took my hand, and guided me through those tender first few years of life.
we drifted apart as i grew older, but i still admired you. i thought what you were doing for millions of children was wonderful, and you were something to be idolized.
but then, when i hit junior high, we were all asked to write a celebrity, and get an autograph or piece of television memorabilia, to auction off, with the procedes going to the children's hospital. i watched in awe as my friends drew names like patrick stewart, and tom cruise. i never believed those famous actors would read the letters, much less contribute to our meager charity drive. i was delighted when i drew your name. i just *knew* that big bird would never let the children down. i wrote you a heart-felt fan letter, explaining how you'd helped to shape me into the strong young man i was becoming, and politely asking that you help us in any way you could.
my friends received their replies one by one: an actual piece of the star trek set used in several episodes, a hat worn by julia roberts in "pretty woman," the record player from "ghost." i couldn't wait to see what you would send me, but the letter never came. i sat silent in my chair at the auction, wondering how you could do this to me. i was heartbroken, and the stark coldness of my childhood hero lead me into a deep depression. i started stealing, beating up grade 5'ers for their lunch money, and in later years, wearing women's clothes to hide my shame.
after my recent appearance on the jerry springer show, i traced all of my pain and frustration back to you, and my therapist says it's time i vent my anger.
which is why i'm writing you today. i want to tell you what a heartless, big yellow jackass you really are. what's up with you anyway? you imposter. how dare you deceive innocent children into believing in, and even worshipping you? you probably feel them up when their parents aren't looking. don't you? admit it! you pretend to be so timid and young, but come on! what six year old is six feet tall? tell me that you feathery gash! like we really believe you've been a toddler for the last 27 years. what kind of sheep do you take us for!?
you better watch your back, pervert. that's all i'm gonna say. i'm not the only person you've hurt. we're banding together and we want to see your big yellow ass swinging from the nearest oak tree. then i'll auction off those hideous orange legs of yours on e-bay. i'm sure they'll clear a cool thousand a piece. i mean it bird, you'll be sorry you ever fucked with us.
sincerely,
astralfrog

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