stuff about where I live and play, and maybe some stuff about where I work and play.


it's about that time.

Dear marathon training program,

Where does it make sense that when you run upwards of 25 miles a week that you are allowed to gain weight? Shouldn’t the fact that I’m running circles around my former, skinnier self be enough to put me in the Nicole Richie pre-pregnancy weight class? Does it make sense that I have a growing paunch-belly even though I have no actual BABY inside me?? About as much sense as lindsay lohan getting a DAY of jail time for being a coked-out car chaser, you stupid hard core bastard.

Ps. I love you, please don’t hurt my knees.


Dear every single kind of food in the universe,

Please stop looking, smelling and tasting so good. Stop making me hunger every single one of the 24 hours in a day. Especially 3:45AM. No one should be hungry at this hour. Even if you’re stupid drunk and at a pizza place. Well, maybe just then. And only then.


Dear labor day weekend,

Get here faster. Momma wants her palm springs pool vacation, like now. K THX BAI.


Dear car,

Fix your stupid blinker before someone rear ends the living hell out of us. It’s getting scary and I don’t want to do one of those arm-outside-the-window moves to signal that I’m turning left. I’d rather get the living hell rear ended out of me. Yes, I’m THAT adverse to arm movements whilst in a moving vehicle. I blame the “FLUME” ride at Valleyfair in Minnesota.

Story for another time.

Are you still here? Go fix yourself already!


Dear co-workers,

I’m so glad you are all just as inappropriate as I am, and some of you, even moreso. I love you all the most. Except for YOU, the one who seems to have lost their personality somewhere along the way, and YOU, who sounds like a pig getting slaughtered when you laugh (shut your door already). The rest of you, I love.

Ps. Thanks for the drinks. You know what? Thanks for the memoooooorieeeeees too.


Dear big brother 8,

please continue to be awesome. i don't think it's possible for you to be any more awesome, but if you could muster a up just a little more awesome, that would be enough awesome to make me explode, and that would make for really great TV. like i told one of my big brother fan friends, sometimes i'm actually convinced that I am on big brother and you are all WATCHING me. it's this kind of warped reality you bring to my life, so thx. oh, and also, please replace every instance of "awesome" in this letter with "soul-sucking."


1 comment: said...

Would you actually go on Big Brother?