Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Letters to Some People......

Dear Neena:

Thank you for using this format in one of your own blog posts, thus allowing me to steal it. But I TOLD you I was going to steal it, so is it still stealing?

Still bowing down to you,



Dear Newspaper Carrier:

Thank you for having the newspaper here when I got up every day this week, including Sunday when I inexplicably got up at 4:41 AM. There is nothing more aggravating than trudging all the way out to the paper box in 20-degree temperatures, only to find it still empty. Let me refresh your memory - that happened TWICE last week.

Loving the improvement,



Dear Gus:

When it's 17 degrees outside, MUST you find EXACTLY the right spot in which to pee? Seriously, won't any old blade of grass do? Just scratch on the door when you're ready to come in, K? I'm damned if I'm going to stand out in the cold with you. I've got coffee waiting.

Still the woman who feeds you,



Dear Fatty:

Thank you for the blanket invitation to join your little weight-loss contest, with prizes available to anyone who succeeded in losing 10 pounds between the start of the contest and Christmas. I get that you are trying to counter the typical holiday weight gain by preposterously suggesting that we might even LOSE weight. It's not that I'm giving in to the temptation to chuck it all in honor of the holidays. It's that I happen to be FEMALE, and losing 10 pounds in 4 weeks is damn near impossible. Have fun with the rest of your testosterone-laden winners. Losers. Whatever.

Your faithful follower but pissed off about the whole weight thing,



Dear Cray-Cray:

Thank you, thank you, thank you for withdrawing from our little school. I am sorry it didn't work out for you here, and I wish you success in whatever you and your cray-cray mama decide is best for you. Feel free to email us and update us on your endeavors. Just don't drop by to visit. Please.

Your former English teacher,

Dr. Bragger


Dear Pioneer Woman:

Thank you for allowing me NOT to be chosen as a winner for yet another of your contests. I didn't need a damn camera anyway, and I probably wouldn't have known how to use it. I realize your winners are chosen by a random number generator and my entry was #37512 or some such. But it's hard to be bitter toward a random number generator, so you're it.

Trying to find a reason to hate you,



Dear Sisters:

It has been much too long since we had a Sisters' Saturday, and I'm going into withdrawal. MUST we wait until gymnastics season starts? I realize it's only a month away (okay, 32 days until the first home meet, to be exact), but still.

Still the baby sister,



Dear Sister-in-Law on Hubby's side:

You BETTER hope I don't run into you in a dark alley somewhere. You seriously are CHARGING your own mother, who is 81 years old, to clean her house? SERIOUSLY? There's a special place in Hell for you.

Wielding several different weapons,



Dear Co-Worker Who Shall Remain Nameless but Everyone Knows Who You Are:

Please. Shut. Up. Just. Shut. Up. I'm looking at YOU.

Seriously about to throttle you,

Bragger. That's Dr. Bragger to you.


Dear Big Brutus:

If you insist on going outside at 8:00 PM in the freezing cold just ONE MORE TIME, I'm going to leave your large arse out there. I know you want to sit on the bank next to the swimming pool and stare at the spot where you THINK a mole might appear. Let me remind you that you don't HAVE ANY CLAWS and you couldn't do anything about it if a mole DID come out. I'm tired of coming out there and carrying you inside because you're too stupid to know it's going to get down below freezing. Again. I think I wrenched my back carrying your lard butt inside night before last.

Wishing beds came in something larger than king-sized,



Dear Sleep Goddess:

Whatever I've done in a previously lifetime for which the penance is losing hours of sleep each night, I'M SORRY! Can we just call it a draw? Oh hell, never mind. I WILL LET YOU WIN! I hereby declare you the winner. You've won. I'm defeated. You're victorious. You rule. Now please, please, please let me sleep all night long. Please.




DJan said...

:-) :-) :-)

That was fun!

Kim said...

I am currently "overseeing" an eighth grade exam, trying desperately not to snort with laughter as I read this. I say "overseeing" because I'm obviously not doing a good job. You know, because I'm on the computer instead of making sure the little cherubs don't cheat.
You're too funny. Love you!

Kelly said...

What an entertaining post!

KatyDid53 said...

Did the lack of sleep bring all this on?

Starry wonder said...

My poor Olive-bo-bolive-banana-fanna-fo-folive-me-my-mo-molive-Olive, he's such a cute pain in the rear, sorry I'm not there to do that for ya, I was always staying up waiting on him when I was home, always a worrier about my babies!