Dear Person... & Cyclists Terrify Me

Dear Person who walked their dog to the top of my driveway, allowing said dog to poop in between my car and the garage door,

Congratulations on an incredible level of passive-aggressiveness.

Very bold, and very baffling. My front door is literally steps away.

You are a fucktard. We clean up our dogs' crap without fail, and the one time Feyoncé™ ran out of bags (after 3 consecutive dog poops), he walked the dogs home quickly, grabbed a bag, and LITERALLY SPRINTED BACK to scoop the mess.

So go fuck yourself.

I clean up enough dog poop on my own.


Piss-off-ed-ly,
Me

~

Dear Hypothetical Old Man on a bicycle who I possibly didn't see this morning as I backed out of my driveway going 4 km/hr,

I swear to mother-effing-Jebus I checked both sides of the road, my mirrors, my rear view. I constantly remind myself that although the street I live on is not busy, there are always people/kids/cyclists/dogs out and about, so to be very aware.

Your hypothetical white hair and blue shirt somehow manifested into the stealthiest camouflage I have ever seen. My windows were even open and I never saw or heard anything, except my own completely startled hypothetical voice, apologizing wholeheartedly and calling you sir.

I looked and I have no idea how I didn't hypothetically see you. I am very sorry. Very, very sorry. I still feel awful and probably more afraid than you were of my meep-meep sedan. The fear is increased by the fact I still understand how I hypothetically didn't see you. I vow to be EVEN MORE terrified of driving now than I was before.

I swear I looked everywhere I needed to, yet failed.

Apologetically (hypothetically),


Me


p.s. Did you come back with a small dog and poop in my driveway? You or the dog? Just curious...


~



Dear Cyclists,


I was going to write you a letter a few days ago and didn't. This morning's hypothetical cyclist incident got me thinking.


YOU TERRIFY ME when you are on the road. I know you are supposed to be, you are allowed to be, I know you have every right to be, and I honestly try my best to watch out for you, give wide leeway around you, and basically stay the fuck away from you as much as I can, because... well,

YOU TERRIFY ME.

I DO NOT WISH TO HURT YOU.

Also? If you are going to ride on the road, then you should be ADHERING TO TRAFFIC RULES, and be wearing a MOTHERLOVING HELMET for Chrissakes. (I saw a man with his skull cracked open, who surely died, from a bicycle accident. I don't blame the man and didn't see the actual accident, but I would like to think that his chances would have improved with a helmet). That being said, drivers can't be DERP DERP and not be aware.

Don't run stop signs or stop lights. It's MOTHERLOVING dangerous. And it makes you less predictable, increasing the danger factor.

Ride on, cyclists! Hey... where's your... helmet? (Image Source)

I am also afraid when I am walking and see a cyclist with headphones in. I understand the desire for and enjoyment of music, but if you are riding in traffic and are not following traffic rules, then at least leave one motherloving earhole free to hear the sounds around you! Please!!!

Mutual respect folks. Even though you TERRIFY me.

Curled up in the fetal position,


Me

~

Dear Google.ca Image Search,

Thank you for showing me that the number one search following the word "RIDICULOUS" is....

"pictures of Céline Dion".

My very own Canadian. How I beam with pride.

And on that note, a ridiculous photo of Céline Dion:

In all fairness, there are A LOT of ridiculous photos of Céline Dion on the interwebz. (Image Source)

Ridiculously,


Me


___________________________

Pin It Now!

Dear Puppy: Goddammit!!

Dear Puppy*,

While your eyes are adorable, and your looks are stunningly beautiful, you are PISSING ME OFF!

That plastic I found in the hallway yesterday that you had chewed, and I couldn't figure out what it was? The only trays I own to my tooth whitening kit.

Thanks for that, goddammit.

Her stunning good looks distract me from the next damaged item...

Puppy, you know our little ghetto garden with the few sparse strawberries? Yeah, you are NOT supposed to raid it for new fruit at all times, even if the plastic chicken wire is no longer standing. That strawberry I took from you, rinsed, and figured it was still safe to eat? Well, that was just bad judgement on my part, goddammit.

While I appreciate you keeping  me company as I FINALLY begin to sort through my mounds of hoarder like papers/receipts/tax documents/insurance documents/gluten-free recipes, your compulsion to chew your bone on the assorted file folders on the floor (what?!? I am still in the organizational stage... or something...) has created wet, destroyed file folders and papers, which... um, kind of negate the whole saving and filing bizznazz, goddammit.

The fact that no matter the temperature you must, MUST, lay your head on my leg so I sweat even more is adorable, but really hot, and apparently not good for my whole alpha-dog-smoke-and-mirror facade the trainer has me attempting, goddammit.

That white-painted wooden baseboard along the carpet... you know that stuff? Where you exercise your extreme aversion to 90-degree corners, obliterating them in a near-silent chew-fest as I sit here and blog and not notice you are ingesting paint chips and lumber? It's supposed to remain in tact, goddammit! And stop licking that bitter apple spray!! You are supposed to despise it, goddammit!

"I iz carefree dawggie. Your paperz are not mah concern." *runs away into long grass*

Finally... you have allowed me to see why Feyoncé™ and I have lasted as long as we have.

I can be super problematic, much like yourself, but I must be as cute to him as you are to me, which makes it all okay. Goddammit.

Now come over here and lay on mommy's leg while you try to shower me with grass and paint-infused kisses.

Good girl.



*Disclaimer: Note, this post was written in "sarcasm" font. I am very clearly aware that all of this is within my power to change, animal rights peeps. 
______________

Pin It Now!

F-cked Up Letters

Click HERE to View Round One

__________________

Dear SELF While DRIVING,

Just because you got rear-ended (resulting in whiplash) while stopped at a stoplight in 2010, it does not mean that EVERY.SINGLE.CAR that appears to be fast approaching behind you will also rear end you. You have been driving in fear of this for 8.5 months. I saw you cringe last night at a stoplight again. You need to get the fuck over it and realize it took 14 years of driving for it to happen to you once! Jaysus! Lighten up already.

Signed,
Me



Dear Tiny Itty Bitty Little Piece of Soap Left In The Shower,

I respect your work ethic. You seriously are giving it your all until the very end. And yours is a thankless job; I care not to know all of the things you have seen in your working life.

My skin crawls at the site of some of that beige "soap"...

That being said, I cannot ignore the panic and uneasiness that settles upon me when I attempt to wash my butt and/or buttcrack region, and you disappear. I know, I know, Dove Sensitive Skin that you match the (sometimes) white of the bathtub, but seriously... where did you go? WHERE did you disappear to? Is there dislodging I should be commencing? SERIOUSLY WHERE the fuck DID YOU GO? And now, how am I supposed to finish showering? You know I am not foolish enough to use BF's acid soap (Ivory... 99% pure...  lye, people!).

Just hang in there until I unceremoniously toss you into the garbage can, and prepare for the next showering experience with a new bar. No one wants to get lost in my nether regions. Except maybe Adam Levine. That would be okay.

Thankfully,
Me

I will never resort to this for soap shards. BF already thinks I have too much crap in the shower, anyway. (Sidenote: I hope no one googles "crap in the shower" and finds my blog. They will be disappointed)

Dear Adam Levine,

Hello there, Adam Levine. How yoooooou doooin'?

You are on my "free pass" list. (In fact, you are the only one I can think of right now. Maybe Sidney Crosby, but only the grown up version. I digress [EDIT: My friend A.P. reminded me indirectly that Bradley Cooper is also on that list. Just want to be clear]). You have an open invitation to get lost in my nether regions. BF hates you for that reason, but for that reason I also hate Jessica Alba. Please come up with better Tweets because you are losing some of your sex appeal. Pull a Britney and have a staffer do it for you. Please. Also? I cannot get the song "Misery" out of my head. Usually in the shower. Often after I 'misplace' the soap.

Dreamily Yours,
Me

p.s. Don't forget about my nether regions.

[Edit, Youtube Vid Below]




Dear Clearance Watch That Ticks Ever-So-Loudly,

I purchased you because, in truth, you were cheaper to buy than the cost to replace the battery in my faithful and trusty Mary Kate and Ashley model. Why must you tick so loudly? Like, super loud? If I am wearing you while I put earrings in, I think you may cause my sensitive eardrums to burst. Please be quiet. But don't die in doing so, because the cost to replace your battery will be more than you are worth.

Also? Thanks for being so damn loose. Your packaging hid that feature well and you were final sale. You are also not worth paying to have links removed. I know fear the jeweler would laugh me out of the store. But your blue face is pretty. That is all.

Silently,
Me



Dear $2 Impulse-Buy Bag of Peanuts,

Stop being so damn irresistible. I didn't even know I liked peanuts, but I was hungry. I don't think I do like peanuts. You make me feel super-dee-duper nauseous, but your salty-meatiness is irresistible. You are loaded with fat and salt and are satisfying, probably moreso than Adam Levine would be (I'm only guessing, he will have to probably prove himself otherwise).

You are adding to my weight gain and I have no restraint. Damn you peanuts.

In Good Health,
Me

"Righty-o, mates, here to plump up your bottom with my greasy, salty nuts. Off to work now, cheerio."

Cocky bastard, isn't he?

_____________________________ Pin It Now!