F-cked Up Letters

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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?

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I Slayed The Butterfinger!

Oh yeah. Corn, dairy, gluten, wheat, and nuts be damned.

Nobody better lay a finger on my Butterfinger(s).

I tried one of these when was in the U.S.A. many years ago in my youth, (because who could resist Bart Simpson's marketing tactics? And skateboard?) and I fell in love. Hard. Not with him, with the mighty Butterfinger.

Well, I learned last year that my deeply detested, self-loathing-inducer beloved Walmart carries these bad boys in "mini" size at Halloween. Oooooooh Baby. I bought three bags. (Okay, and one bag BEFORE Halloween).

Aaaaah Butterfinger........ *shudder*

Okay, side note, I totally googled "orgasm face" and found this picture immediately. This girl LOOKS like me, appears to have a mark where a nose ring would be (where mine USED to be) and has similar ear piercings in the same spots (but my third lower one is now defunct). If I didn't know any better, I would seriously think this was me. But it is not. Seriously, really, seriously. I even have two yellow towels like that. Day-um.

That also reminds me - I found this naked-artsy picture once and told a friend it was me. It LOOKS like it could have been me. But again, it is not. If I find it, I will post it for you. Because I am sure that would interest you. You pervs.

The partial aftermath (this was bag #2 remnants). (No, this is not the artsy nude photo in my likeness. Though I see how you might confuse a that and a pretty pink trash bag).

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I force fed BF perhaps 10 at best. I gave my dad one at a hockey game. I also gave my niece one. I bought three bags of 30 count. That means that approximately 78 of these bastards are making their way (albeit painfully) through my digestive tract, with a direct endgoal of my ass/saddlebaggage.

Stupid lack of self-control + 50% off candy + Bart Simpson + Mmmmmmm chocolate.

I am finally (supposedly) going back to blond(er) tomorrow. Wish me luck because we all know how well salon and spa experiences tend to work out for me.

I hope these babies don't decide to revolt or make some sort of statement while I am sitting in a salon chair with crazy ass foils all over the place at the mall. (Why ARE mall bathrooms always so far away, no matter where you are in the mall??!)

I digress. And by digress I mean "publish, go to bed, and don't look back."



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