Dear Girl Standing with Guy in the Bacon Section at Shaw’s:
Hi. No, I’m not interested in your man. Really, I just want some bacon. He’s in front of the bacon I want. Yes, I know there is bacon over here, but I want the low-sodium Shaw’s bacon that’s $2.99/lb. He’s right in front of it. NO, I DON’T want him. He has too much body hair for me. Yes, I suppose I could wait until you two are done looking at every package of bacon in existence, but I already know which kind I want and it is just past his junk. EXCUSE ME. THANK YOU.
Sincerely,
Girl Who DOES NOT Want Your Man
Dear EVERYONE:
HOW could you let me go through almost an ENTIRE DAY with seeds in my teeth?? I tell you when something on YOUR face isn’t right. Remember that time you had a booger sticking right out of your nose? I told YOU! Yeah, some people are embarrassed when you tell them about that stuff, but it’s the right thing to do. I will thank you for it.
I’m so happy I went through my performance review like that.
Suck it, jerks.
Dear Fair-Weather Biker on
Start wearing pads and a helmet, because if I see you again, and you pull that shit where you disregard traffic laws just because you think I should be looking out for YOU, I will run you DOWN.
And then I will steal your bike-inappropriate shoes because they were CUTE. Are you by any chance a size 8.5?
Happy Trails,
Pissed Off Chick Screaming Profanities from the Barbie Jeep
Dear NStar:
For the past three years, I have lived in
It’s just that, of all the times you had to stop providing me power, it was like THE hottest night of the year and I live on the third floor. My little window air conditioner is all I have to prevent me from going into heat shock and my brain melting into goo. And the poor cats! Those fur pigs could barely breathe!
You’re mean NStar. We are fighting now.
Hot AND Bothered,
Account #2006 118 7616
2 comments:
I love this. I mean, I'm sorry that you're pissed about things, and you have every right to feel the way you feel, but you do it wittily.
And you know nobody looked at your teeth during your performance review; they found your eyes and your intelligent responses too captivating.
Oh, and I call it "quality", not "junk" (when it's my man, anyway). Heehee!
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