dear crazy lady on the metro,

i am very sorry that i turned around to see who was yelling a few rows back from me on the orange line today. i did not know that this would upset you so much as to start screaming at me for 10 minutes, proceed to tell everyone on the metro that i'm a bitch who can't mind their own business.... and then take off your pants. no, lady, i do not want your pants.

just another day in dc,
Dear Boyfriend,

Oww oww, I've been primping and curling all day, I have new shoes, a HOT new haircut and some wicked new lingerie from La Senza. You are not going to know what hit you.

Happy Birthday,

LOL. So True.

Dear college peeps that were on spring break,

Ok so I'm jealous b/c I was totally you last year! But umm.. when I'm reminiscing and stalking you on facebook, the last thing I need to see is your rolls and thunder thighs in a bikini! Some people should just never be photographed in a swimsuit. Also plus sizers-- bikinis are not for you! Hope you had fun! (oh and you probably want to de-tag...)

Dear Life,

What the crap? I don't know which god I offended but cant I get a break. First, got a $100 ticket for talking on my cell while driving [FUCK], second, turns out someone had my credit card number and charged 2 Iphones to it [DOUBLE FUCK] and lastly, boy that I have been seeing for a few weeks and I was major crushing on [as in the first boy I have let myself like since I broke up with my ex] was all over another girl last night. Not that we are even really dating, we were sleeping together, flirting, and having mini dates. SO COME ON!! At least I was very classy in saying no when he asked me to go home with him apparently when his "plans" fell through or whatever. I just don't get it! Something needs to change, maybe some feng shui or a haircut, SOMETHING!!!

HELP! How do I change my life around??
Dear Tyler,

What do you do, and how does it give you access to Metallica? I'm pretty sure that kind of brush with fame gets you lots of chicks. How can I get a birthday message?

Sexual favors open for discussion,
Penelope Ann
Dear new boy in my life,

Okay, listen up. Liking you has been something of a surprise to me. Obviously, you're not my usual type and obviously, I'm not your's, as you flat-out told me so. But what the hell does "dating" mean to you? We're making out one night while I'm being told that I "am so cute, have an amazing personality," etc. with more shit attached -- and the next I'm being ignored despite the fact I spend half the day in classes with you. Oh, unless you count that time you asked me to borrow a pen.

So thanks for "forgetting" to tell me you were leaving all weekend. If you'd shown just one ounce of melancholy over the fact that you weren't going to be able to hang out with me for three days, my spirits would be higher. As for right now, they're in the fucking gutter because I can't figure out if you like me or not. Blame it on the fact that your fingers are fucking attached to your damn phone, and I'm 99% sure that you're texting a million other girls at the same time.

If you don't text ME sometime today, I'm going to rip off your testicles one by one.

First-time poster,
Dear Doctors in the E.R.,

Thank you for making me forget about the excruciating pain I would otherwise be feeling by giving me oxycontin, morphine, and loratab. However, I do not appreciate you releasing me with a "muscle strain" despite the fact that (a) that's impossible since I haven't done any physical activity other than sack sessions in months and (b)I'm fairly certain my pain is coming from an internal organ which you were unable to identify.

Hoping I don't die of a mysterious disease because you couldn't figure me out,

P.S. Last time I checked, a muscle "strain" doesn't cause you to get progressively worse over 4 days or need 3 Hydracodons just to get through the night.
Dear boy who made me upset enough to listen to Fiona and Alanis for three weeks straight,

On the bright side, your nationality perfectly lends itself to a fun list of nicknames my friends and my mom have devised for you.

Deutsche bag.
Dear LA Weekly,

Thanks and no thanks for publishing this article in your newspaper this week. I do believe it may have changed my life. Although at times depressing, it made me contemplate where my 2-year relationship is going since my bf currently thinks that marriage is "just a piece of paper". *sigh*

Oh least I still have my bunny and a new pack of batteries,

Dear Metallica,

Just wanted to say thank you and let you know how awesome you are for recording the specialized birthday message for my little brother. I know it really made him happy, and that makes me happy. Thanks again. METAL!

Exit light enter night,
Dear Ex-boyfriend's picture that came up on my facebook minifeed,

Glad to know I dated you pre-drag phase.

Umm and I look way better in eyeliner than you,

PS - get a haircut cause I know you do not shower on a regular basis so I can only imagine how greasy that head is...eww.
Dear TMI about the ex,

You suck. Sure I'm doing the same thing, sure I'm making out with "hockey boy" and male bff for fun. But finding out the ex has also been having a lot of the same sort of fun?

Dear Completely Irrational Jealousy,

Why do you get so much more agitated when I try to imagine current boyfriend's ex-girlfriend which he had before he even met me, than you do when I think about ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend, who he knew before we even broke up?

You are whack,

I Love My Job

You know your life is interesting when you know kids like this.
Dear KB,

Way to 1-up me, you b*tch! I call a truce on Monday, and then your wedding invitation arrives today in the mail??? You filthy mattress smuggler! That means you must have mailed it BEFORE I called a truce.

Slutty whore, I'll see YOU at the wedding! <>
Dear Google Personalized Ads,

Here's a little sampling of what you thought I'd be interested in today:
Be the Woman Men Love
Committment Phobia
Understanding Men
Bad Relationships

Please fuck off immediately.

dear hockey boy,

let me get one thing straight here: ALL I am looking for is someone fun to make out with. it does NOT have to be this complicated... seriously. we've already gone out in the past (way distant past) and have already been friends after that. there's no need for this "hard to get" behavior. 1) it's annoying in a guy and 2) i'm not actually trying to "get" you. accept this for what it is, drinking, hanging out, and making out and stop with all the games.

i am willing to be your f-buddy with no strings attached. you should hurry up and get THAT before i find another hot boy to play with.

maybe it's time to meet the rest of the team,

Dear Katie Couric,

Thank you for catching me completely off guard by walking up five feet behind my in the student commons yesterday as I was getting coffee. Also, thanks for making my life by introducing yourself to your personal tour guide (your daughter is clearly a prospective student) as "Hi. I'm Katie!" (with a cheery smile).

My apologies for trailing 50 ft behind you on campus for a good ten minutes just to see where you went and point out to fellow students "You see that lady in the white pants up ahead? That's Katie Fucking Couric!".


P.S. A special thanks to boyfriend's iphone who was made it possible to take this inconspicuous picture (it turned out much better than the one he took of Kevin Costner's foot at Pancake Pantry).
dear life,

can i please catch a break? first i lose my expensive camera- but i can laugh that one off and blame it on the shots (and shots and shots). then, yesterday, i get into a car accident with a man named jesus. so- there's another $1000. and, yes, of course the athiest gets in a car accident named jesus. as i am driving to the post office to mail a check to the car insurance company for the next 6 months with my new, lower rate. well, guess that's out the window too.

i'm mad at you!,
Dear Earth,

I appreciate you... I really do... but why do you insist on existing in the most complicated way imaginable? Because of this, studying for my ecology test makes me less than inclined to save you.... at least for the next two days.

Saving my recycling until Thursday,
Dear Drama,

Go away! No more screaming and yelling - sending venomous, poison words into the universe. Stay away from me - do you hear me?

I will kick your A**.
Dear London Bus Driver,

I'm not sure if you were tired, or just cranky, or maybe just really protective of your bus, but in any case sorry for making you so angry on Saturday night that you pulled to the side of the road, came on the loudspeaker and announced "Either shut up or get off my bus! Your choice." I mean sure there were about a dozen of us, and sure americans/ australians aren't really known for their meekness, but we were upstairs, so we'd already segregated ourselves from the two or three normal people on sitting downstairs. Maybe it was my drunk friend screaming "Nazi! Nazi! at her German boyfriend that pushed you over the edge, who knows. Certainly wasn't the strangest thing I'd ever seen on a London bus. Or the most offensive. Or the loudest for that matter. In any case, hope your night improved!

Loud Obnoxious American,
Dear KB,

I really like how yo b*tch *ss tried to make a damn fool of me last Friday, you hairy munchkin wrestler. I like even more how my bf thinks I behaved "childish", even though I didn't do anything at the dinner to seem childish. I just literally SAT there and got ignored. I mean, childish would have been slamming your stupid face into the steak that you didn't know how to cut (like, how old are you, you retard muffin? you suck), or calling you a whore bag child of a crackhead and running out of the restaurant laughing hysterically, or taking all of the condiments and leftover beverages on the table and making a gigantic mushpot drink in a cocktail glass. Oh wait! That last one was you, you flat-chested **********.

All in all tho, I'm glad you didn't succeed in trying to make me stoop down to your low-*ss level. Even with my bf pretending to have the most rousing conversation of his life with you, it still doesn't bother me for the following reasons:

a) He hardly ever sees your conceited *ss
b) The birthday girl had a great time hanging out with all of you that it was totally worth it to have your stank *ss there with your crispy looking fiancé
c) Because you know I'm better than you'll ever be. Always have been (remember who was always on Honor Roll and who WASN'T? Hint, dumb*ss: you were NEVER on Honor Roll) and I always will be.

...And last, but not least

d) I'm for certain...without any doubt in my mind...put that on everything I love...that my bf has a waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay bigger peen than your fiancé does. Have fun with that!

So I'm gonna be the bigger woman and call a truce. Because as I looked across the table at you telling that same story about how you accidentally sprayed yourself in the face with mace (for the 9th time), I just felt sorry for you...and also glad that they have programs where they hire autistic people into real jobs.

Still praying that you're sterile tho,
Dear Boyfriend:

Our 6 year anniversary (which fabulously fell on a Saturday for once) consisted of waking up early, rushing over to the bus station, riding on a smelly, crowded Greyhound bus for 4 hours all the while listening to the ghetto, overweight girls in the seats behind us talk and eat chicken nuggets and watching you play a Nintendo DS. Then we went to your creepy Grandmother's house where we hung out (watched basketball) with your perverted brother who commented repeatedly on my breasts and touched me a little bit too much. To make matters worse- I had to sleep (alone) in a room with a bunch of weird art, animals, and a really creepy mannequin that I thought was a person in the middle of the night hovering over my bed. This is really not the romantic day/evening that I'd had in mind. So.. basically... YOU OWE ME!!

dear whoever now has my camera,

hi. so... i can explain. if you decided to review the pictures of my lost camera then you may see pictures of my friend peeing in a urinal. or of me dancing with some 40 year old sketchy man. and i think my incriminating halloween pictures are still on that memory card too. i'd appreciate it if you used your discretion in sharing these photos. thanks!

guess i'll never run for public office,
Dear Stupid Girls my Aussie Roommates Were Trying to Bone,

Im not sure what kind of geography they teach you in Montana, but South America is not a country.

Also, thanks for the most entertaining King's game ever.

Also, my roommate says it's not nice to stick your hand down a guys pants in a club then tell him you won't bone him because you're a born again virgin.

He's crying, but I'm laughing,
Dear Friday,

You are in rare form today, my friend! It is unbelievably sunny and gorgeous out, I decided to make it 'casual friday' even though my office doesn't technically abide by any dress down policies...(and when I say 'casual' I'm talking, like, Wear Your Uggs to Work Day), probably 60% of the office is out on vacay, there's no meetings scheduled, and my boss is in an extraordinarily chipper mood, Massie came to meet me for a nice long lunch outside in the sun, I've been reading up on bracketology for the past hour, uninterrupted, I just found out that we get a surprise early release day, and the mail came early so I can now peace out for an extended weekend! Talk about GOOD Friday!
(I know, I'm sooo witty!!)

Dear Life,

Last night as I was stretching after my 5-mile run and feeling awesome, a bird shat on me. Is this a sign? hahaha then as I was coming out of the bathroom of Nike after washing shit off my shirt (wearing a sports bra) who did I run into? No.. not a hot guy which would have been kind of awesome... but a weird as hell crazy guy who informed me I would be a great mom because I love kids. Umm no I don't love kids and "you will be a great mom" is not something you say to a hot chick wearing a sports bra and running tights. What is this life??

Dear St. Patty's weekend,
Now that you and I are a few days removed, I think we can debrief.

Things gained from our Saturday-Monday bender:

1. fake flower lei that I had to kiss a bartender to acquire.
2. guinness t-shirt from a guy who thought he was coming home with me.
3. green rolling rock wrist sweatband (wtf? sweatband, really?) from guy (#2's friend) who actually did come home with me.

Things not gained:

1. dignity.

Incidentally, I had to sneakily check guy from #3's wallet for a driver's license while he used my bathroom so I could remember his name, which he actually may have never told me (refer to #1 under "things not gained").

Whatevs - look at all the free stuff I got!

See ya next year,
Dear hippies protesting outside my workplace,

Dude, I’m fresh out of the government. Unless there are four thousand of you or you’re pelting me with aborted fetuses, you’re doing little more than obstructing my doorway. Oh, and hint: if you’re peeved about the war, try channeling your misguided rage elsewhere than the liberal hippy anti-war media.

Better luck next time,
Dear Life,

I just bought a lighter and a can of vitamin energy, and the total with tax was $4.20. How appropriate is that?!

Dear sex,

I need you soon or else i'm going to go crazy. What with the bf going to school, taking care of his daughter, and having the worst piece of sh*t for a car, poor me hasn't seen you in nearly 2 and a half weeks!

F*ck it, i'm buying a Bunny and a quadruple pack of batteries,
Dear guys who get turned off by menstruation:

Here’s something to think about…

1.) It is true that most gay men find female biology icky…
2.) and; you’re getting blown by your bunny, but;
3.) the memory of a recent encounter with a natural female process is too unpleasant for you to enjoy said hummer, then;
4.) perhaps you might be happier dating dudes.

Seriously…stop pretending to dig chicks and then going and giving them complexes about something that is not a big deal. Shit! Getting to meet auntie flo means you’re IN, dude! Effing GO with it! If SHE’S not too weirded out to do the microphone check, do NOT cut power to the speakers!

If you are lost in the desert and somebody offers you water, do you say…hmm…this water should have more ice? Fuck no you don’t! You slam it and say, can I have some more? WOMEN choose US, you assholes…we are the demand side of the equation. Appreciate it, like it, and be happy you ain’t self-servicing.

Unless you don’t like water…

Find her seven and get to work or get out the way for somebody who will.

Shocked by disbelief
Dear Boyfriend,

I'm sorry that we got a surprise visit from Aunt Flo last night when we were hooking up, but you played it so cool and were so sweet about it. I almost believed you until I started blowing you to which you interrupted me to say "This just isn't going to happen for me tonight. Honestly, I'm still kind of grossed out".

I'm glad my menstruation was such a boner-kill despite my attempts to still remain calm, collected, and sexy.

Kill me.

P For Period,
Aunt Flo's Ashamed Niece
Dear Straight Guys,

I guess I am just over gay men seeing as how I racked up three new formerly straight men this weekend/St. Patty's Day. I know I am a hot, slutty mess when I am drunk, but I am only human... and totally gay. So when you freak out because we're making out in public (that YOU started, btw) it is NOT my fault. Straight guys... can't live with em, can't live without em.

Dear Cute New Boy,

So, it's been fun flirting with you over the past few weeks, and even more fun watching you get up the nerve to call me and ask me out. However, you can imagine my surprise when I found myself on a date with Teen Wolf. Faded tapered jeans, sneakers, Michael J Fox sweater (with a HOLE), and a baseball cap?? You are so lucky I already have a crush on you, because this whole well-dressed-girl-with-shy-unfashionable-boy thing is just too 80s movie for me.

Hoping you have a giant peen and a secret wardrobe of collared shirts,
Dear Vanderbilt Kid,

You little twit. Who do you think you are (a) trying to hit on me at my boyfriend's party?-i'm old enough to be your mother (...almost) (b) slapping me on the wrist for smoking by saying "You can see my dad when you get cancer...he's the top pulmonary specialist in Chicago"- I don't need your reprimands, a girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere...besides, I quit (mostly) and (c) THEN deciding to linger your way back to me once you figured out I had weed and wanted to mooch off my shit (What would Daddy Dearest think?)

Bless Your Toolish Heart,
Dear Paula Deen-

Love your show. You're funny and very Southern. I don't even mind that you somehow manage to put butter and/or mayonaise into every single one of your receipes. But showing up to the charity event I planned last night wearing that HUGE CHINCHILLA FUR was unacceptable. Alamo and Waldo (my 2 pet chinchillas) would be horrified. Why do you even need that shit? You're from Georgia. I'm almost as ashamed of you as I was of myself after I ate way too much of your banana pudding. Go back South and leave the small soft furry animals alone please!!


PS- RIP Hubert (my old chinchilla who would take up approximately 1/800th of the chinchillas used to make that enormous coat to fit over your huge ass)
Dear California Recorder's office,


It's been nearly two months since I performed my duty as a citizen, and y'all mofos ain't gave up the goods YET! My parents and everyone else in the world has gotten paid, BUT ME. Don't test me. I have a keen skill of pestering the sh*t out of everyone in that office until that damn check is hand-delivered to my door.

If i see you on the streets, it's CURTAINS!

i'll be waiting by my mailbox, bitches...
Dear Lungs and Cervix,

I believe if I am aware of either of you something must be wrong.

Quiet down!
Dear Sex/Adventure-Camping Dream,

You were SO FREAKIN AWESOME, and approx. 23534643524879x better than being at work. I'm contemplating napping under my desk George Costanza-style just so I can try and coax you back out from my subconscious.

Can't Argue With Multiple O's Before 8am - Even If It's Just In My Head,
Dear Nerdy Girl Who Lives Above Me,

If you would kindly stop playing:

a.) classical music every Saturday morning.
b.) your GODDAMN VIOLA AT 2 a.m.
c.) "More Than This" by Roxy Music (circa 1982) on FUCKING REPEAT... do you KNOW any other songs in English?!?! Jesus Christ.

That would be awesome.

Listening to your instrumental selection as I type 11:59 p.m.,

you just restarted the last song you've been listening to for the fourth time. i want to punch you in the tit.

Dear Small Asian Child,

Please live in our closet. We will feed you and you can sing for us.

Culturally Aware,
CF and Massie

Future Drag Queen

A Little Bit Of Spirit For St.Patrick's

Sick Me Kind Of Out
Dear new VP candidate,

I know you're "important" but back the fuck out of my personal bubble. Is it really necessary to stand about 3 inches from my face when thanking me for directions? Did you not get the hint when I kept subtly backing up only to have you continue to cram your face into mine? And aren't you supossed to wait at least until AFTER you're hired to try and bang the corporate admin?!

You're way too old for me, creep.

p.s. you're in biz dev, ever heard of a breath mint? sick. me. out.


Dear bf's good guy friend,

Hey and you...we're cool and't think we are cool enough for you to not only pat my ass the other night at your party, but for you to commence the cupping and full-on grab/squeeze of my ass. That, my dear, is reserved for the man that gives me the peen (aka my bf/your best bud).

So how bout this: how bout you act like i DON'T have the biggest and most "grabbable" ass of this century (although i REALLY do), and I won't tell my gigantic man of a boyfriend what you did. Deal?

oh yeah, and i think you totally dipped into a crease that you weren't even supposed to be near, MISTER! *wags finger*

p.s. and just for the record, it is funny when i do it to you and your fiancee (yeah, remember her?), and it's funny when she does it to me, but not so funny when you try to get in on the action. Alcohol induced Faux lesbian lovin = ok/funny. Get it?
Dear Weekend-Self,

Consider this a warning. You are OFFICIALLY on notice for being a complete and total fuckhead. Basically... 0.0% of the shenanigans you pulled this weekend could be considered even remotely acceptable for a person of your birth year, IQ, or relationship status. Stop acting like a douche. Stop embarassing your friends. Most importantly, stop embarassing Future You. She pretty much hates you 100% of the time. Because when you clock out at 4am on your friend's futon with your shoes on and a green plastic shot glass still around your neck, SHE'S the one who gets to take over in the morning to clean up your mess of a life, and with a raging headache no less. Pull yourself together, woman!

Act Your Age, Not Your Shoe Size,
Dear A,

Missed you at Justin's party tonight. And I just wanted to say thank you for having great taste in music (and by great taste, I mean my taste). Towards the end of the party, in the wee hours of the night when only the strong survive, Justin threw in a CD to keep the ambiance going, and just as I was on the verge of passing out, Junior Boys "In the Morning" started playing. I made him play the track again, because it happens to be one of my favorite songs, and only three people in the entire world have ever heard it (I can say that because I know ALL the people in the entire world that matter). So naturally, I inquired how he had heard of this amazing song and he told me it was on the CD that you made for his B-day. It was one of those moments in which you're both surprised and not surprised at the same time. So I thought it was appropriate for me to say thank you for two reasons. For one, thank you for providing me with musical enjoyment. And two (and most importantly), thank you for providing me with a familiar and very well-liked song that I could focus my attention on, which allowed me to divert my attention away from the alcohol-induced spins that would have otherwise consumed me and probably led to me clogging up Justin's toilet with vomit consisting of chunky, yet-to-be-digested Five Guys burgers and fries (which if you haven't already tried, you need to. It's fantastic). So in conclusion, our shared taste in music saved both the good time I had at the party and the delightfulness of a greasy, future heart-attack-inducing meal indulged upon just hours before. Must be the Aquarius in us.

I owe you a burger and fries,

I have absolutely no clue whose baby this is, but I just saw this little bugger on facebook and had to post it. He's so adorable.
Dear drunken stair-falling over-giggling making-the-first-move self,

You are great! Everybody loves you!

See you tonight,
Dear sex,

You are great!! Way better than I even remembered. Here is to boning older men who ACTUALLY know what they are doing.

Cuming just thinking about it,

Dear DC tourists who hid their children when they saw me conducting my walk of shame in knee high boots, booty dress and unkempt hair,

Give it a few years and your daughter will be doing the same.

step off.
Dear New Crush,

WHY do you have a girlfriend? She lives far, far away and has already said she won't move out here. You've lived out here almost two years and you've said you don't intend to move back (nor do you intend to marry her, your words). Move on already, for fuck's sake. I know you like me, and I like you, and I really kind of want to date you. But I can't because ... why?!

I'm trying really hard to be cool about this, but I kind of really just want to scream. I've already liked a guy who was unavailable. It's not fair that I should finally find someone else I can like and yet he, too, is not single (uh, and that would be you). Fuck that. If you don't break up with your gf soon, you better at least introduce me to some cute, single guy. I think you owe me that much.

Frustrated beyond rational comprehension,
Dear Dad,

I need money.

Pretty please,
dear best friend,

Soooo not cool ditching me for the guy that left you stranded and that I bitched out and then got in the hugest fight of the century with my bf over. good job.

i've been trying to set up this drinking session with you for WEEKS now and i get nothing. *sad face*

i mean seriously dude, tell which is it: do you really like him or is it that you are borderline desperate to have a male companion after dating so many c*ckjugglers and skooch monsters? no one told you to date 2 diff guys for 2 years and then get your heart broken when neither want to commit to you. Helloooo? they knew about eachother! did we learn NOTHING in college when we would date multiple guys at the same time?!

So come on now, the next time you wanna totally ruin our "closure" session (aka "girls night out"), try to make sure it's for a guy whose shoe size is bigger than mine.

k, love ya, ttyl *smooches!*
Dear Gay Bestfriend,

I love you to death and always will, i think i have loved you more since you came out of the closet but if you had have been within a metre of me this past week i would have stabbed you in the eye with a pen.

I always knew you had an interest in only materialistic things but FUCK you have taken it to another level. 2 months ago you were the one that suggested it to me that we move in together, I wasnt so sure about it but because i love you and were bff's i thought i could trust, but i couldnt have been more wrong. After shopping for apt's with you for a while (which has been complete hell) you decide that you are going to wait 6 months and buy your own place. Nice way to fuck me over. You are so pathetic that you wont look at a place because the "building is too ugly" and that you wouldnt want to have your friends over because they wouldnt like an ugly building, well your friends can go and get fucked. You have told me on numerous occasions about how all your rich friends are offering you a room in their apt, so this just tells me that you dont want to live with me because you dont want your friends to know that you have a friend ME that doesnt earn as much money as them, that doesnt drive a fucking BMW like them, that my dad doesnt go to live in dubai for 6 months every year, that i dont wear gucci underwear, and im sure they all think their shit dont stink, well bitches MINE DOES DEAL WITH IT!

So you and all your superficial friends can go live in your superficial world and go to all those fabulous superficial parties, which you dont even get a direct invitation too anyway, and have a great superficial life

p.s when i get my own apt you can think twice about ever staying over, or even visiting.
Dear Mildly Attractive Boy in Lab Section,

At the end of the semester, when I no longer have to sit next to you every Thursday from 3:30 to 5:45, I'm going to say everything in the prior letter plus all the little insights I pick up on a weekly basis.

Like, say:

1) Refusing to drive a Honda, Mazda or Toyota simply because the car does not "feel American" enough is an excuse I'll remind you of when I pull over to the side of the road in my Camry and help you jumpstart your SUV.

2) Multitasking involves having the intelligence of a seventh grader. You know, enough to minimize an IM window and keep typing a paper. If you can't do that, I do not want to see you try to walk and chew gum.

3) If you mention how you dated the same girl for six years to me one more time in the context of how immoral I am, I'm going to whip out my last PAP smear result and ask how you justify telling me I REALLY get around.

4) If it takes you two hours to write a two page, double spaced article review on global warming that's a page long (and an extra hour to edit) should probably consider community college.

5) IMing me when you're putting off paper writing to try to have an intelligent conversation and then responding to every comment with "haha" isn't intelligent.

Here's hoping that someday I get to watch you drive a Honda Civic while drinking a wheatgrass smoothie and afterwards write a detailed analysis of Crime and Punishment (haha),


Dear Mildly Attractive Boy in Lab Section,

At the end of the semester, when I no longer have to sit next to you every
Thursday from 3:30 to 5:45, I'm going to say everything in the prior
letter plus all the little insights I pick up on a weekly basis.

Like, say:

1) Refusing to drive a Honda, Mazda or Toyota simply because the car does
not "feel American" enough is an excuse I'll remind you of when I pull
over to the side of the road in my Camry and help you jumpstart your SUV.

2) Multitasking involves having the intelligence of a seventh grader. You
know, enough to minimize an IM window and keep typing a paper. If you
can't do that, I do not want to see you try to walk and chew gum.

3) If you mention how you dated the same girl for six years to me one more
time in the context of how immoral I am, I'm going to whip out my last PAP
smear result and ask how you justify telling me I REALLY get around.

4) If it takes you two hours to write a two page, double spaced article
review on global warming that's a page long (and an extra hour to
edit) should probably consider community college.

5) IMing me when you're putting off paper writing to try to have an
intelligent conversation and then responding to every comment with "haha"
isn't intelligent.

Here's hoping that someday I get to watch you drive a Honda Civic while
drinking a wheatgrass smoothie and afterwards write a detailed analysis of
Crime and Punishment (haha),



This Is Hilarious

Dear God
dear ex-thing,

YOU can go fuck yourself. i LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE how you jerk me around for like, three fucking years. on and off on and off on and off. and our last little fling ended in with "i need space". well, you can have your space with your new high school girlfriend. REAL FUCKING CUTE, dude. but whatevs. i'm not upset at all. you know why? because you're a tool. and you do not groom your nether regions. which is fucking gross. do you know what it's like to try and fellash a big jungle-y mess? its gross and hard and made me wanna kill myself. so do me a favor and tell your new girlfriend to enjoy that bush of yours. also, i cannot befuckinglieve i discovered this on FACEBOOK. you can't call me and be like "hey, im sorry i jerked you around since you were a fetus but i have a girlfriend now." HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF COMMON DECENCY?!?!?! obvs not. whatever.

i hate youuuuuuu,

ps. your girlfriend's new puppy is not cute at all. ive seen WAYYYYYY cuter bulldog puppies. and bulldogs have a shit ton of problems so props on dog research before purchasing a $3000 dog, you dumb bitch.

Echo Got Adopted!!!

Dear Girl Caddy Corner From Me In Yoga Class,

How does a human ass get to be that large anyway?

At Least You're Being Proactive,
Dear Girl In Front Of Me In Yoga Class,

Something tells me you had some serious tattooer's remorse immediately after commissioning someone to ink your shoulder with a picture of Homer Simpson without a shirt on.

If I were a guy and about to bang you, then undressed you to find that, my dong would helplessly go soft-serve.

Bad Call.
Dear Brothers,

Ummm. I talk to you maybe a few times each year and see you at major holidays. So, when you both called within a minute and a half of one another this evening "just to talk", you freaked the shit out of me. I spent the first 5 minutes making Bubba 1 promise that Mom and/or Dad hadn't died in a horrible accident. Once I was sure that Mom and Dad were intact, it became all too clear that just bc I asked our parents if they wanted to come visit me sometime soon, they assumed I must be miserable and homesick. God forbid, I just want them to come visit and spoil me! So clearly, Daddy, emailed or called you and said you needed to call me - which you, being oh so obedient did - at the same fucking time.

Anywho, it was sincerely great to talk to you. I do love you both dearly in our own way. But I am on to you. And I am fine. Just itching for spring in this ridiculously long winter that seems to take over NYC. No need to call in the sister suicide watch. Oh - and thanks for rubbing in the fact that it was 78 today - bastards!

Oh, Daddy, you know I love you more than anything else on this earth and you could never possibly do any wrong. But maybe you should individualize your stern emails/calls about being a more proactive family to my brothers on separate it more slyly.

loving my dysfunctional family in all the fucked-upness that it is,
Dear bf,

Although we have been fighting twice a week for the past 3 weeks, I still can't help but to spoil the shit out of you for your bday.

Here's what I have planned:

Friday Night - Group Dinner with Family and Friends at some mid-priced restaurant (I am sure some sort of drunken video gamer talk will ensue if all goes well. woo. hoo. lol)
Saturday - Group camping trip by the beach (trees. tequila. t-bone steaks. titties...oops, i meant, smores. lol)
Sunday - pack up from camping, drive home
Sunday Night - Michael Jackson Club Party, hopefully sponsored by your job. Sheesh, i'm so crafty...(MJ impersonators, MJ art, MJ music, and "Moonwalker" on repeat. What could be better?)

After all this, I'd better get laid everyday for like a month.

I'm just sayin...

Turn Your Volume Down

Dear Life Bloggers,

Death Metal Puppy - Watch more free videos

Dear Easter Bunny:

If you would please fill my cute little bunny basket with the following goodies, I would be most grateful (I don't know when Easter is, but here's my list anyway):

1. Cadbury caramel eggs
2. Reese's peanut butter eggs
3. Peeps, in various colors
4. a few cash eggs w/ various denominations
5. a teeny bunny or maybe a colored chickie!!! (unless the dye is bad for them, and then just a fuzzy yellow one!)

Thanks ever so kindly!

Can't wait to relive my few good childhood memories,
Dear Global Warming,

Did you forget about Boston? Why is it that the ice-caps are melting in Antarctica, but I still cant leave the house without my coat, scarf, hat and gloves? I know you are supposed to be a bad thing, but please come visit us here, I am BEGGING YOU!!

Slowly dying from seasonal depression disorder until it feels like F$%$ING summer,
Dear 25th Birthday Self-

You are celebrating tomorrow. That's pretty awesome. Don't make a drunken fool of yourself at the posh Lux Magazine (in which your legs appear in this month's issue!!) party you are going to. If you choose to get wasted, please wait until the rock show to follow the party.

Stay classy,
Dear Wendy's,

It's not a Super Value if I can't get a jbc and a 5 piece nugget for 99 [bleeping] cents each.


Anyone Up For A Peep Show?

Dear Self,

It was unfortunate that you chose to stay at new crush's (that you happened to go to HS with and elementary school with) place even though you knew that it would end up in awkward drunken sex. Oh, and it did. In your defense, he did offer you booze and to give you money for gas to get home the next day since you were so far out of town and he complimented the shit out of your 'fucking amazing body' and informed you that 'some people pay to have bodies like yours.' Unforch, it wasn't enough to make up for the incredibly awkward following morning including, but not limited to, the fact that my car was almost towed twice right in front of said crush while waiting for the gas money because I lost my ATM card two nights before while drunkenly gallivanting around the city. I kinda felt prostitute-y.

Doing what I usually do, just not for free this time,
TA in CA


Dear Girl I hardly talk to but whose new profile picture I just saw of you being married,

I'm happy for you. Really, truly I am. I remember meeting you like once. Cool, whatever. But I have to ask ... how long did it take you before you finally accepted the fact that for the rest of your life, your last name would be Heimann (assumedly pronounced HYMEN)?

It would take a lot to get me to say yes to that,

p.s. i realize it could possibly be pronounced HEYMAN, but fuck that. it's funnier if it's hymen.
Dear A and Your Flirting Abilities,

Cable man is coming over tomorrow morning.... will you come flirt with him for me too?

You're Pretty Much Amazing,
Dear potential child stars at the audition this weekend,

Sucks to be you:

1) Most of your parents either look like trailer trash with super frizzy, fried out hair, or ghetto messes with 9 kids, or both.

2) You have the craziest bowl cuts I have ever seen. I really can't tell the little boys from the little girls. Sadness.

3) You're so cute that it's not even funny. Really. It's not funny, so stop it.

4) If you are Asian and a girl, your mom is going to dress you up like a korean whore, with the 3-inch heels to match...and you're only 6. Wow. Double Sadness...

5) If you mess up your lines, you won't get dinner. Triple Sadness...

6) Stop smiling at me. I'm not an agent.

7) Even if they do pick you and you become a huge child star, the chances of you ever having a normal life or making a smooth transition into adulthood are so unlikely that you might as well put a hit out on yourself when you turn 12, so you won't have to suffer. Ever heard of Gary Coleman?

8) None of your friends at school like you. No, not because you are "gonna be somebody", but because you smell like your mom's perfume that she bought at 7-Eleven.

9) Being "precocious" is not a good thing. It's annoying.

10) No one really does The Charleston anymore.

Good luck!
Dear people who live in the apartment building next to ours:

If you happened to be gazing out your window last night at approximately 1:00 am then I hope you found the enormous shadow of my boyfriend's wiener against the window that I made with a flashlight to be as hilarious as I did.

Still giggling!!
Dear Facebook Couples,

Most of the time I am absolutely fine with the fact that I haven't had a date in almost a year -- it's my own choice and it really is the latest and most successful doucheterrent yet -- but the more you post status updates about all the adoooorable little everyday moments you and your beloved treasure together, the more I want to EAT MY OWN FUCKING FACE!

I am not a hateful person, so stop making me hate you!! My advice to you, as a friend who cares, is to SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUUUUUUT UUUUUUUUUUP!!!!

Willfully ignoring the tumbleweeds in my uterus,
Dear Spring Break,

Nine days in New York City is going to be the BEST spring break of ALL TIME. It's going to be like a reunion of all of the most fabulous people to ever come out of Missouri, and everyone I decide to sleep with. (That's crude.) NYC had better watch out.


PS. I recently got my wisdom teeth out, so I'm kind of hopped up on pain killers, so if I seem like a hot tranny mess, sorry.
Dear Warren and Toby (The Ants That Live In My Bathroom),

I know that Massie and I gave you cute little names and pretend like you are our pets in some feeble attempt to make it seem like we actually WANT you lurking around our sink, and I know that sometimes when I find you I talk to you guys in a high-pitched voice as if you are cute little puppies or something, but let's get one thing straight -

It is NOT okay for you to camp out inside my Body Wash. I do NOT want you on or around my Loofah. Ever.

Don't Make Me Send You To The Pound,
Dear college freshman that I gave my number to at a heavily intoxicated party,

You’re adorable, but I have socks older than you.

Call me when you hit puberty,
Dear Hot Cable Guy,

Thanks for "downgrading my cable" aka not doing anything to my digital cable but telling comcast you did and to charge me $11 a month for basic cable. I knew it would pay off to flirt with you.

Loving My 80+ Channels,
Dear girl I just saw walking on campus,

Just because you are able to squeeze yourself into a skirt, that does not mean you should wear it. Especially when said skirt is quite short, and has a 4" slit right up the back, which gapes when you walk and leaves nothing to the imagination. Jesus.

Never eating cottage cheese again,
Dear Feet,

Sorry for wearing such unsensible shoes out in the hurricane/monsoon/act of god this morning. Of course being soggy and chilly all day at work is no fun, but the problem seems to be: I don't own any sensible shoes. However, if you cheer up and stop being blue, I will look into investing in the cutest, brightest pair of wellies I can find.

Until then, enjoy the fuzzy socks,
Dear LITTLE Brother,

I know I am crazy and irresponsible and that drunken photos of me doing ridiculous things virtually flood your facebook newsfeed. And I know that I have shirked all responsibility and career ambitions to gallivant around the world. And I know when it comes down to it I am unorganized and fundamentally very silly. But Jesus Christ,


Your big sis,

PS. Do keep being the responsible one, because I'm probably going to be hitting you up for money one day...
Dear Winter,

I hate you. Be over. I can't stop sleeping. It's annoying.

Dear Spring Break,

FTW? I've been on break, technically since Friday afternoon. It was wonderful to be able to spend 2 full days (and nights *wink*) with my boyfriend. However, you then took a turn for the worse when I realized that I now have to write a paper, work on a huge assignment, and make doctors appointments for the THREE DAYS I'm home. Not that I enjoy being home all that much, but at least give me time to freakin' sleep in and do nothing. Isn't that the point of a BREAK? I should be drinking beer and playing video games, dude. Well ... or at the beach, but I haven't had money for that since ...well never. Damn it.

ML.NoBeer() == SadPanda;
dear K,

regarding 'dear attractive boy in my lab section', you snapped. you should say the entire thing (maybe paraphrased but still with the same excellent points) to him. cause that was awesome.

Dear world,

In the grand search for clarity and Zen in this life, may I suggest yoga or ballet as opposed to, say, banging your coworker?

Dear world,

In the grand search for clarity and Zen in this life, may I suggest yoga or ballet as opposed to, say, banging your coworker?

Dear New Vibrator,

We need to talk. I think we need to take a break.

Although you provide me with mind blowing orgasms you appear to be taking away from my real sex life. It is completely unacceptable. My boyfriend is incredible in bed. I used to have orgasms like clockwork. But ever since you showed up my orgasms with him are few and far between (unless you're involved).

If only his dick could vibrate…

Or if you could kiss me and tell me you loved me…

Don't worry, I won't get rid of you. I'll just tuck you away until the real deal can get me off again.
What are your thoughts on break-up sex??

It's not you, it's me,
Dear attractive boy in my lab section,

You know, the first time you walked in the room and sat down at my table, I pretty much wanted to marry you. In fact, when you showed me your 2005 Tahoe, said you were an upperclassman, and told me that you also enjoyed Will Ferrell movies, my love for you continued to grow.

...And then you really had to open your mouth and try to impress me. You think you succeeded, but see, I have this problem. All I want to smack you upside the head, and you can't take the hint.

See, your idea of showing off is telling me that you're better at math than english, yet you failed Calc III three times in a row. That's pretty epic, because even I managed to pull off a C in Statistics and I left 2/3 of my final exam blank. I had to count on my fingers under the desk to do mental math.

Then, you told me you were 24 and have no job, you refuse to take more than 12 credit hours per semester (less you strain yourself), your parents still pay for everything and your Grandma bought you that SUV. She also supplies you with $1,000 spending money for you to eat Bojangle's three nights a week and avoid fresh vegetables like they're Calc III equations.

You also told me that you hate college, you can't read or write worth the price of your Calc III textbook (or even the wholesale value of a 4 year old copy), and in an effort to graduate before you turn 30, you changed your major to something called "Science, Technology and Society" which has no direct career pathway in the real world. In fact, nobody can even figure out what it is you do for your major-related classes. And when this super hard major made you score an awesome 1.2 GPA, you also decided to convince the counseling center that your breakup with a girlfriend who should have won the First Annual Sweet Potato Lookalike Contest warranted a year to be dropped from your record.

You also mentioned that your highest GPA was attained during the semester you decided to try out whether or not studying for a test more than 10 minutes after you notice it on your syllabus (which coincidentally is 10 minutes before it begins) and was a fantastic 2.7. Kudos, my friend.

...At this point, if you attempt to have one more "intelligent" conversation with me in which you inform me that your life goal is to be able to sit on a couch and watch DVRed episodes of Dirty Jobs and basketball for 14 hours a day, I want to fill a prescription for whatever quaalude the zoo uses to shoot an obnoxious elephant in the ass.

In fact, if I had the choice between asking you and any given dusty brick on our campus for advice on the meaning of life...I'd trust the building material to give me a wiser reply.

Here's to hoping you realize that living off Mommy and Daddy into your mid 20s just isn't sexually enticing,
dear new coworker,

your stupid giggle after EVERY single thing that anyone including yourself says is super unnecessary. and the way you're saying you're going to be a manager 'very soon' when you just started TWO WEEKS ago is ridiculous. i mean, really?

shut up before i punch you in the face,
Dear Life,

It is 2pm, I am dressed up like a golfer. I just did a beer bong with three Australians dressed like bowlers. Life, what have you become?


I'm Jealous

Dear 8 Whining Newborn Puppies,

Yes, you're cute as you swim blindly around in the cardboard box by my bed but must you whine the entire night and cause me to drink a whole bottle of WINE so that I can sleep?

Not your mother,
Dear Work,

Why am I here? All I'm doing is sitting in an office by myself watching the project runway final on youtube and farting.

Dear co-workers,

The reason that I'm fumbling around and drooping my head is because I am mad hungover/borderline drunk at work and pretending to be sick so I go home early. It really has nothing to do with allergies, Ms. 40-something year old co-worker. Get a clue.

But I guess I should let you know now that I am dying and that you might want to search for a replacement ASAP. My legs hurt (from hip hop class, and last night's 3am romp session), my head hurts, i have to pee and no one is here to cover the phones, my fingers hurt, my tummy hurts, i'm sooooooooooo sleepy, i want to throw up, and I think I want my mommy, but i'm not sure.

Freakin 3 shots of Jose and 1 shot of Patron: you are my nemesis'...nah, j/k, we had fun last night. Especially when me and bf made out in the bushes on the walk home from the concert (Dave was unavailable at the time)

I want to pass out, but I can't. How cruel...

p.s. can you guys call building management and tell them to make the room stop spinning? thanks.
Dear Spicy Chicken Sandwich,

You were delicious, but the pain you caused me this morning was inexcusable. As if turning in a 20 page paper wasn't bad enough, to be trapped in the library washroom for 20 minutes while you reigned fiery terror upon my asshole was just the icing on the cake. Seriously, it was like Prince Eric vs Malificent the Dragon. As if that wasn't bad enough, I had to walk back to my apartment trailing a tail of fire that would put Haley's Comet to shame. On top of that, I have to have surgery tomorrow.

kthanksbai dignity,

Dear Dan Abrams on MSNBC,

You are fucking hot. So hot in fact that I turned down dinner plans to stay home and watch you on tv. This may be an indication that I have crossed the line from a "normal" tv crush, to full blown psychotic sexual obsession. An obsession that includes the strong compulsion to bite you.

Thanks for making news my porn,

Dear unidentified text message that I just received,

I know exactly who you are, though I'm pretending I don't.

You are a guy I found on the side of Slice of Life, brought home (on 2 occassions) and thought I was allergic to. However, the doctor later informed me that it wasn't an allergy I was a few million little things called scabies. That's right. YOU gave me SCABIES. I later passed those scabies along to my bestie after spending the weekend at her apartment (don't judge dear lifers, i thought it was an allergy at the time).

I cut off contact with you several months back for a reason. I'm sure you know you have/had we really need to vocalize why I cut you off?

Just getting a text from you made me itchy.

Putting on the cream the doc gave me back in January (you can't be too cautious),
Dear Today,

You were awesome!

keep it up,
* I've added urban dictionary links in anticipation that people will not know the definitions of these slang terms. Apparently I'm old because I didn't either. -A

dear boy,

i'm sorry i gave such awful dome last night. i mean, i didn't think i was that wasted. for real. that was just unnecessary. i can totally redeem myself, though. don't even front, dude. I've got derbin' down to a T, so i'm not really sure how i could fuck that up. damn tequila shots.

redemption head?,

ps. you're kinda cute, by the way. i can redeem myself multipleee times if necessary. ;)

Someone Execute This Child Before She Reproduces

Dear Cadbury Mini Eggs,

You are my very favorite Easter candy- the best candy of all! But I just realized that the 2.4 oz bag of you I just scarfed down contains 330 calories and 40% of my daily saturated fat allowance. Fuck! I'll remember you on my 5 mile run tonight. But the worst part is that you were 3 for $2 and I still have 2 bags left...

I should have gotten Peeps....
My dearest Dave Grohl,

Tonight is our big date and I am so excited. I am going shopping this afternoon to spend my entire tax return on a new outfit and shoes. I am sure that you will look DASHING, as usual. Just don't cut your hair like you did that one time a long time ago, I like it long. *wink*

Anyway, I'm sure we will have a fantastic time singing all of your greatest songs together. And don't act surprised when I cream all down my leg; I only do that when I'm happy.

Afterwards, let's meet at your l.a. abode this time. We could go to my place, but I don't want my roommate to see you and try to talk to you about her favorite shows, La Femme Nikita or Remington Steele, although I am sure that you might like at least ONE of those shows too.

Ok, see you soon, lover!

And wear that little thing I like,

p.s. don't mind my bf, we just carpooled together.
Dear Organic Raw Kombucha Tea,

You were not a wise purchase. You taste FOUL and I'm pretty sure you are mildly alcoholic. In fact, you taste kind of like what I expect hard cider would taste like if I made it in my kitchen sink and used seaweed and spinach instead of apples. You kinda make me want to vom, but I'll prob still drink all of you bc your label claims to support my metabolism, appetite control, immune system, weight control, liver function, and give me healthy skin and hair. And also bc I'm kind of hoping you are as alcoholic as you taste and maybe will make the rest of the day a little more entertaining.

Dear Dude in Comparative Religions,

It's time for you to be on me. This needs to happen soon as I have to write a 15 pager and all i can think about is you ripping my shirt off, romance novel style, and doing me in class (an empty class, but a classroom, nonetheless).

Desperately wanting to make love to that schoolboy,
TA in CA
Dear anal coworker-

It is not my fault that you are a 45 year old virgin with nothing better to do than to bug the shit out of me. However I don't think the clients mind if there is a newspaper on my desk... why would they? So you don't have to move it and say something to me like I should be ashamed of having a newspaper. You need to get laid almost as much as I need to get a new job.

Dear "Ridiculously Good Looking Co-worker",

I never thought I would say this, but you don't appeal to me at all anymore. I'm not sure if it was the whole "Mr. Nice Guy" thing, or maybe it was when you invited your crazy ex to dinner with your mom. Wait, no i think it was the letting your crazy Ex call me and threaten me multiple times over the course of the last month and a half. Whichever one it was, I have lost all interest in you and it makes me sad. Who am I going to flirt with at work now?

Desperately searching for a replacement hottie in Boston.

Not enjoying work nearly as much now,
Dear Sexual Harassment Training,

I can't believe I really just got to waste an hour and a half of the workday on you, eating cookies in the back of the room with my gay bff/coworker and giggling, passing notes, and making generally inappropriate comments during the redonkulous early-to-mid 90s video we were shown for educational purposes. Also thanks for being company-wide and mandatory, so I could see the hottie who works at another branch and sexually harass him with my eyes the entire time. Karma's back on my side, bitch!

"You make me harder than Sudoku"
Dear Boyfriend's Parent's House,

Somehow I feel guilty hooking it in you when I look up from atop my straddled legs to see... a yarn stitched tissue box, a robin hood poster, and countless tiny trophies.

Also, it doesn't help that mom's down the hall and doesn't believe in locks on doors. WHAT DOES HELP... is her hearing impairment.


P.S. You are the sweetest country Kentucky home I've ever seen and I love you so much. There are chachkees (?), gizmos, relics, and folk art in like every niche and I'm going to have fun exploring you today when they're gone :)
Dear uncontrollable sexual tension,

Here’s the thing: When my mouth is telling someone how shitty they’ve been to me over the past year and my little heart is breaking into a million pieces, you’ve really got to NOT make me pounce on them as soon as I get one drink in me. It kind of sends a mixed message.

So much for closure,
Dear Dear Life Blog:

You're like a million spectator sports rolled into one. I want in on the prelist to buy seats ringside for the TR and KB knife-fight. And the only thing that could interrupt CF's mood-swing triathlon is a depakote and haldol cocktail.

Somebody stop the peanut guy next time he's in our aisle. This is the best show ever. I don't even need a life of my own anymore...this is nonstop, commercial-free schadenfreude.


p.s. "A" the hell do you trim your arm hair? I'm a GUY and can't even see the point of it. Maybe I need Rogaine hand-lotion? And how do you manage to trim the other arm with opposite-handed scissors? Confused and carrying a sharp object here...
Dear Mom & Dad,

Thanks for listening to me tell you about the fab/posh charity event I'm planning/volunteering for and then turning around and buying tickets to it. I should be glad you shelled out the $500/ticket because it's for charity... but deep inside I wish I was attending and not you! I will be there to check your coats while you enjoy the fruits of my labor. Slip me some "free" drinks (and some money) please.

Dear everyone that I know,

Can you guys just chill the f*ck out for like 2 seconds? I swear to Buddha, I'm going to start choppin toes if y'all mofos don't calm down and stop trying to get on my sh*t list.

Here's who I have so far, as of March 2008:
1) that b*tch, KB (reason: for being born)
2) my bf (only for like 4 seconds tho, reason: for befriending that b*tch, KB)
3) that loser muffin who threatened my sister (reason: because he is mentally challenged on purpose)
4) my car's motor mounts (reason: because they are weak, little bastards!)
5) Ms. Ray (reason: she made me write a 3-page fundraiser proposal and then didn't even read it)
6) My cousin, Y (reason: she owes me $300)
7) Some dude at Food 4 Less last night (reason: he ran into me with his basket, didn't apologize, then proceeded to act like he didn't speak english, only to offer me "coupons?" while I was packing my groceries. Maybe that was his way of apologizing for pushing me. Well, f*ck it, he still made the list.)
...and last but not least, an old addition to a new list:
8) my 40-something loser co-worker (reason: for giving me the silent treatment this morning FOR NO REASON! No reason, people. I stood 6 feet away from her desk, called her name and asked if she wanted anything from the vending machine, and the trick ignored me! Can you believe that???)

So if you are a person that I know, please bust your ass and keep yourself off this list. Because you really don't want me to sick Karma on your ass. That b*tch is my best friend and she handles her business. I just sit back and watch the mayhem, then take full credit. She doesn't mind, she's on probation anyway.

Karma is my co-pilot,
Dear Self,

I never thought at the age of 22 you would get so angry for there not being Peanut Butter Captain Crunch in the grocery store.

Get a life,
Dear Universe,

WHAT am I doing that you are so pissed off at me?! I don't get it. On Friday I get chewed out by my boss for being late (which is maybe a little uptight but, OK, valid). I feel really guilty and vow to do better. Monday - I wake up bright and early, even have time for breakfast (!), and hop on the metro only to have some assface get sick, forcing the whole fucking train to evacuate and wait 15 minutes for another one. Surprise - late to work. WAH. Tuesday - I'm up early, munchin' my granola...I stroll down the street to the metro and only THEN do I realize that I left my entire wallet (with my metro card) in my OTHER coat. So, I sprint home and then back to the station - in heels no less- and get to work 10 min late to find my boss waiting for me at the front desk. No.fucking.fair. I mean, I understand being punished for being lazy/not giving a crap, but COME ON! - you're just being hateful.

Boo, You Whore,
Dear Nightmares,

You need to stop. I'm not even eating cheese before bed. what's you deal?

Dear Aklen Place Town Homes in Hillsborro Village,

I look forward to making you my new home in June. Not only are you a town home rather than an apartment, give us access to a pool, and come with a washer and dryer.... I will once again only be 2 minutes away from Aids. Yes that's what I said, 2 minutes.

How excited are you? It will be like our rendezvous on West End!

Rock on,
Dear ex-boyfriend,

Pretty sure that the phrase "if this keeps going on I'm going to have to break up with you" is ample and direct warning. Stop being a complete douchelord and insisting to our friends that I just "dropped you" out of nowhere to make me look like a bitch. You know you're just mad this bangin' bod is now surrounded by a team full of hot hockey players for me to choose from.

Get off me,

P.S. "Getting kicked in the back of the face" is actually impossible, but thanks for reassuring me that if I want intelligent children you're not the right choice.
Dear Vag,

I am so sorry that you have been vacant for so damn long. I promise as soon as I find a worthy enough man-sicle you will get some attention.

Next Time there is a Party in my Pants- You Will be Invited,
Dear Spring Break Self,

You should apply more sunscreen and probably stop making out with various college springbreakers. yyyeeeeaaaahhhhh

Dear Boy Who Has Been In My Life For [Exactly A] Year [Today],

Smell ya later.

Dear life,

On Saturday night I knew I was going to a frat party with a "topless waitress." What I didn't know was that I would be the ONLY OTHER GIRL THERE and that by "topless waitress" you meant nasty naked pierced girl doing a sex show with a dildo drill. Therefore you can't really blame me for drinking mass quantities and then blacking out and (evidently) telling my boyfriend's pledge class that my boobs are bigger than the gross stripper's. I might feel bad for for making my boyfriend miss the "show" but I feel much worse that he spent the remainder of the evening cleaning my vom off of a cab, the door of our apartment building, & our bathroom floor. Sick life for real.

Dear Bf,

Sorry I broke up with you for 5 hours on Saturday, but you deserved it. Stop being such an ass, and I'll stop being such a bitch. Deal?

It's good to know that I can always count on you to compromise,
Dear Me,

Note to self: The next time you think about beginning with beer at noon, consuming 142 of them, moving on to half a bottle of wine, eating Indian Food, then wrapping it all up with 4 margaritas, don't.

You will puke just like you did all night last night. ugh. i taste fennel and tequila.

Good times,

Badass Idea

I Want One. Bad.

Dear People In Musical Theater,

Why is it suddenly OK for you to post pictures of yourself in your underwear on facebook just because it's part of your "getting ready process"? It's not a picture documenting you warming up, it's a picture that you posted so everyone could stare at your tits in a boostea. Attentionwhore.

Stop It,

P.S. Brides, this goes for you too. We don't need to see you in your dressing room in only a petticoat. It's not necessary for me to understand that you got married to have to see your entire 45 minutes in your dressing room posted on the Internet.

P.P.S. Kelly, this does not apply to you. I would love to see you tits anytime.
Dear Mo,

I know this sounds weird...but I'm actually looking forward to traffic school today. Why? Because we got speeding tickets around the same time and have planned it so we may attend together, and giggle in the back like school girls while everyone else gets to be miz watching videos of people being projected out of vehicles, pounded about the theory of defensive driving, and have to alone endure an instructor whose drawl will most likely be thicker than Little Jimmy Dickens and who adjusts his elastic waistband around his muffintop approx twice every 5 minutes.

We Beat The System, Let's Pass Notes,
Dear Cigarettes,

Ever since I quit you, I've been eating like a wolverine. I've gained weight and I know there is more where that came from coming my way. I really hate that. Tell me why you're bad again?