Showing posts with label butts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label butts. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

F-cked Up Letters

38 COOOOOOMMENTS! Now you speak up!
Click HERE to View Round One

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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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