You Must....

Go here....

Heather- Hilarious stay at home mother (SAHM) or "Shit Ass Ho Motherfucker" as she refers to herself. Oh yeah, and it helps that she's hot, insanely witty, and takes amazing pictures.

Jon- Her husband who also stays at home.

Leta- Her adorable daughter.

Chuck- Their dog.

I aspire to be like her someday. I hope I don't regret sharing this site with you because her site happens to be infinitely better than mine so you'd better not replace me for her....dammit!

but, the bish is great.

Total Badass

Dear Male Figure Skaters,

Your obvious flaming homosexualness did not deter me from checking you out so hard that I crashed headfirst into innocent passerby. For reasons unknown to me, your prancing and ice dancing was irresistable. Is it possible to have a "gay man fetish?"

Probably need counseling,
Dear Drano,

You are the shit! You are the GOD of cleaning supplies! No contest with those I-have-no-idea-if-you-are-really-killing-bacteria sprays, which are probably colored water anyway, but you provide immediate gratification and immediate results. If I could pour you over my finals and have you flush out the answer [haha flush] I would invest in a Costco size tub. Better yet if I could pour you over a hot douche bag and within 15 minutes have your MAX GEL power melt away his toolness I would never leave home without you!

De-clogging my life,

I Just Laughed So Hard

Just in case you never saw this...:)

But, I bet you haven't seen this one!

How Much You Want To Bet His Shirt Is A Disguise To Make People Think He's Straight? Too Bad The Jumbotron Outted Him.

Sounds Like A Good Idea To Me

Dear Dear-Lifers,

Does baking a cake and bringing a present for your exboyfriend send the signals of "I'm into you" or "I'm so glad we are such good friends"?
And...if you don't know what signals you want to send to him...what should you do?


PS - did I mention that I'm driving 4 hours for his party?
Dear life,

I feel like college is the ex-boyfriend that I will never get over. To quote a part from the new Mariah Carey CD "We said let go, but I kept on hanging on, inside I know it's over you're really gone, it's killing me cause there ain't nothing I can do..." Is it weird I think of college during this song? I just miss everything about it- it was so comfortable and fun.. but I can't go back b/c it's wrong and that is sad. Real life is like the new guy who seemed like he would be so much better but it turns out he's limp and sucky. I miss you college!!

Reminiscent and broken-hearted,
Dear Crazy Girl:

Uh, maybe you don't bother to come out next time I meet someone even mildly interesting. Whaddya say, huh? B/c basically, you are used to being out in the open b/c I was in a relationship w/ someone who could dig the crazy, but now...NOW you need to take a little cat nap. Maybe even a dirt nap. You have a lot of super fun qualities, but you are also way too into being the center of attention. The little man in my canoe needs some love and you are depriving him of that option.

Will dose myself into oblivion to hide you from the light of day,

PS In a related dear, I swear to god that if jesus cockblocks me one more time I'll kill an orphan just for fun. An orphan with CELEBRITY ADOPTION POTENTIAL.
Dear Life,

Okay, fine. I can't make an omelette. I waited too long to fold it, so it's an explosion of eggs, peppers and half-melted cheese. I'll call mom next time. However, I think almost choking on it is twisting the knife a little. I live alone, dude. I can see the headstone now: "Choked on her own badly made omelette."

Dear Final Paper,

I just want to be done with youuuuuuuuu. Sure I procrastinated for 4 days past your official due date, but I've been busting my ass these past few days on you.

You're not finished. I don't give a fuck. I don't want to proofread you. I'm so over you.

Also, I'm over grad school....too bad I was supposed to graduate this month, but can't because I haven't STARTED my thesis.

Not Love,
Dear unexplainable fatigue and other symptoms,

You sucked enough when you caught me unawares in the form of strep throat last weekend, effectively ruining my awesome plans to see Point Break LIVE and go on a raging weekend bender. Now that you have turned into unexplainable fatigue, general malaise, a still sore throat and hot flashes it's fair to say you might in fact be mono. What. the. fuck.

I'm newly single, have made plans every weekend for the next month and have plenty of prospects who probably wouldn't appreciate me if I turn into a cesspool of germs that contain the "kissing disease". So sack up! Please be the result of stress and too much partying. Ruining my now fabulous social life would be grievously unacceptable.

That little blood test better be negative, bitch, or there'll be hell to pay,
Dear Self,

Just for future reference: when your version of Unattainable Coworker walks by and asks, "how are you doing?" and you mishear him and think he says, "what are you doing?"... do NOT assume he would want to hang out with you outside of office hours and is in fact asking what you are doing tonight, and therefore, please refrain from blurting out "Open Mic Night!" so quickly that he can't even understand what you are saying so that you are forced to repeat "open - mic - night" three times before you realize that he is not in fact asking whether or not you have plans tonight, and he realizes that you are a complete weirdo. (And then you turn beet red and throw yourself out the nearest window, taking your dignity with you.)

Ummmm. At first this grossed me out, now I am just sad.

-massie [and the world]
Dear Downtown,

WHAT THE F*CK IS YOUR PROBLEM??? How do you explain not f*cking having one f*cking damn Ben & Jerry's f*cking Ice Cream f*cking Store ANY-f*cking-WHERE in or f*cking near you? Huh? Well...??? Can you f*cking explain THAT??? Oh, so NOW you ain't got nuthin to say when I'm trying to get my free ice cream on, huh sucka??!

Now, I gotta dream about ice cream all afternoon through my lunch break and then wait until i get off work, then go hunt one of those bastard ice cream stores down. Why can't you just have everything? I mean, you have all these dumbass, tempting clothing stores, but you don't have one damn Ben & Jerry's in the entire damn downtown zip code??? You suck, lick AND swallow, you smog having, std carrying, bum infested, summa biatch! This is serious!

And you know what else? You ain't sh*t. And you ain't never gonna be sh*t. Be your life together, you beezy.

Hot, frustrated, and not getting cream,
Dear Readers,

don't know if you're aware of this, but it's free cone day at Ben & Jerry's aka the best day on the year. today i will be enjoying a delectable coneful of chocolate chip cookie dough which will taste even better because i didn't pay for it.

Get your asses out and reap the benefits.

God Bless America.
Dear BF's PhD colleague's girlfriend,

When your PhD BF brought your homemade Oreo 'truffles' into the lab, did you realize you were entering a baking throw down? Your baked goods have now entered the arena of my "Happy Birthday BF Black Forest Cupcakes" and "Here's your Damn Yellow Cake, Physics Bitches." I've been trying to perfect the "I am the Ultimate Asian Julia Child so Eat these Chocolate Chip Cookies and Bow Down to my Supreme Baking Glory Cookies" all weekend.

If I see you on the street, you best get out your spatula.

Hope you use salt instead of sugar,
Buddha :)

P.S. Shameless, when I come visit, I'm bringing the lamb and bacon. BF is bringing the beer/Lagrangian theory.
Dear Bf,

I couldn't hold it back anymore. Last night those three little words that I have been refusing to be the first to say caught me by surprise and came catapulting out of my mouth like a fistful of mashed potatoes in a food fight.

It turns out you love me back. You were just scared to say it.

Dear Dear Lifers,

Remember this girl?
Dear Life,

When do I officially throw in the towel on this girl? I really don't like being taken for granted, or not communicated with, or flaked out on. I hang in there and it only becomes more apparent every day that I should have let it go at least the day before. Dear Life readers....I put it to you.... when a girl puts this on her facebook wall, is it past time to move on? I'll take your response off the air.

Oh yeah, she's engaged to the guy who cheated on her for months. They're getting married on the 25th of May. Preggers? I'll leave it to you. Speculations?

-Jon in Denver
Dear Karma,

Something here in my life is a bitch, and I hope it's you. Because if it's not you, and you are still to come a knockin', I'm screwed.

Lessons learned,
Dear Boundary-Pushing Internet Crush,

Holy hothouse orchid!

For someone who gets off thinking about licking the dirt from my feet and the sweat from my armpits, you sure are delicate when it comes to sitting in front of your damn computer. I know you're tired from looking at a screen all weekend, but you got this engine revved, Andretti, and she's awfully eager to take a few spins around the track every day. So don't tell me how excited you are going to be to IM with me the next day and then leave no messages for me to wake up to, forcing me to have to email you at midday with a "where you at?" only to find out you're "getting out of the house in a minute" because you're "burnt out." That shit is disempowering as hell, and I thought I was the goddess here! I would never have agreed to get quite so sexperimental in my conversations with you if I thought you'd turn into Flaky McBailer, so sack the fuck up, Jack! Would you rather I shop those nasty foot pics I took just for you to the highest bidder? Because mama needs a new pair of everything, and as I'm learning from you and your reactions, that shit has currency.

But it also occurs to me that you do sometimes just want to be naughty and uncooperative so that I'll punish you, because that's part of your deal. I'd throw my drink in your face but you've already told me you'd like that. Your fetishes can be so hot, but so confusing sometimes. Alas, hotness wins every time.

Still not even sure if I want to bone you (but stoked for you to pay for my pedicures),

xo RG

(PS: Sorry I haven't DearLife'd in a while, y'all - hope this makes up for it!)

you're the funniest typo I've made all day.

laughing cause its true,
dear pepsi truck driver,

thank you so much for first telling me that i blew a tire (who knows how long it would've taken me to realize what was going on) and then changing my tire for me on the side of interstate 64 at night. you were maybe 2 feet away from cars goign 80 mph down the road and there weren't even any street lights. people like you have restored my faith in humanity and random acts of kindness.

pay it forward,
Dear med student,

It has come to my attention that you are in fact perfect. Initially I thought maybe you were prude [who takes things that slow anyway] but then it turns out you are a beast in bed and your number one goal is to make me happy, whether that is in bed, surprising me with Chunky Monkey [my fav] during our study date, bringing me flowers, or sending me inappropriate emails about how I am due for a physical [oh wait that was me!]. Turns out you have never taken things so slow with a girl before and the reason you did with me was because you thought that was what I deserved. Either you are the BEST player ever or you really are this genuine and I am one lucky girl.

Smitten like a kitten,

PS readying this even makes me want to vom over our cuteness [sorry dear lifers]
Dear wtf???

Okay, mr. bf: you have been my supposed "male bffe" for almost 3 years. And I have never once doubted you were a mysogenist with sociopathic tendencies. We've even agreed about it over margaritas many-a-time. But TODAY! you might take my distrust of men to a whole new level.

You've always told me about every cheat, every impulse, yada...

You met your dream girl in September. Suddenly, you were all about love at first sight. I rolled my eyes - you had gone down this road before. You moved in with her in November. Again, I rolled my eyes, you move in with every girlfriend asap. I met her - she's awesome. You seemed different. I was happy. I thought she was awesome, and - again- you actually seemed different.

Then the fucking drama.

You call/email/text/IM that it's horrible and over. You're moving out. Never do...Repeat cycle. But you decide to buy an apartment in nyc wtth her.

You call/email/text/IM that it's horrible and over. You're moving out. Never do...Repeat cycle.

You call/emai/text/IM that it's horrible and over. You're moving out. Never do...Repeat cycle. But would I have break up sex? (no.)

You call/emai/text/IM that it's horrible and over. You're moving out. Ask me if you can stay with me for a weekend while you get you affairs in order.

You IM that you're engaged. (2 weeks after the moving out fiasco). and you've been engaged, it was just a "mum" thing for awhile.

During all these months, in which I have been horribly busy with my new job we have made and broken a million dates to get together and catch up. I have been so busy with my job, it wasn't personal or even evasive. But we have always talked. But yet, in all the love you all the fights you all the apartment renovation plans you shared....

why the fucketdy - fuck-fuck - did I meet one of your "fiance"s co-workers today and find out that she is 8 (E-I-G-H-T Months) preggers????

First 12-weeks doctors say precarious. don't tell
First 5-months (if a troubled pregnancy) - it's iffy
8 months. baby is damn deliverable.

You might be the most fucked up individual I have ever met in my life.


PS. Since you don't know I know, I am TOTALLY telling you I am preggers with Mr. On-again/Off-again just to fuck with your world a bit before I cut off all communication.
You will be the worst father ever.
dear recent Easy Mac addiction,

so wrong. yet so soooo right.

therefore, dear size 2 bod,

you were fun while you lasted.

done and done,
dear self,

first off, you should know from college that shot night is never a good idea. second, understand that at 430 am when your boyfriend doesnt pick up his phone the first time, nor the next eight phone calls patiently spaced 3ish minutes apart, he won't pick up on the ninth. Nor will he answer your fifty text messages pleading him to "please be my boyfriend on weekends too," "I brag about you all the time, you are not giving me something to brag about," or "just so you know guys hit on me all the time and I tell them I have a boyfriend bc i love you and answer YOUR phone calls."

Keep reassuring yourself you arent the only girl that does this. youre lucky he loves you.

why does he put up with me,
Dear Grey's Anatomy,

Was that "intestines in the hand" scene really necessary?

dear self,

wow. you're a big skank.

Dear Life,

Really? Really??? Was it completely necessary for me to completely face plant while trying to jump into the subway car at the last minute, lay with my legs hanging out the car for a few seconds in stunned silence, then be helped up by the subway employee while all the other yuppie commuters gaped at me? Where was my tall broad-shouldered prince charming stranger to help me up and fall in love with me, despite the horrible bruises that will likely cover the entire surface of both my legs for approximately three weeks, making people wonder if I have an abusive boyfriend when I wear my adorable minidress (yet unknown) for my birthday next weekend? And was it further necessary for that cab to splash me while I limped down the street the mile to my office, just in case I had any dignity remaining? Just wondering.

Terrified of what you might have in store for the rest of the day,

P.S. Life, I do have to say that although we're in a fight right now, I appreciate you sparing any damage to my amazing brand new pink Members Only jacket, since that would be criminal.
dear self,

getting so high you can't feel your face? who are you....lil wayne? honestly, girlfriend i know you're sad and all that shit. but you're doing awesome at work, you're getting promoted, the owner told you that you're doing 'phenomenal'. grow up. you're not 19.

not the birdman jr.,
dear lifers,

The last paragraph says it all!

Dear me,

You look and feel like crap. Pull yourself together, biatch. He is not the first and he won't be the last.

Just remember when you talk to him tonight: you will only go back to him if he gets his act together and starts treating you like the Queen you are! And stay strong. Don't punk out like you always do and look at his face and think of his peen and then just melt like Jell-O on hot concrete. That mess has gots to stop.

Be like, "look masturbater, you betta treat me right, like you got some damn sense or it's CURTAINS for you. Got it?!" But maybe try to say it less gangsta and more relationship counselor.

Oh, and one more thing, if it doesn't work out, be sure to have some awesome "I-hate-you-so-much-you-bastard" sex before you drop him off at his house, k? Cool.

Checkin out rebound prospects AS WE SPEAK,
Dear Boyfriend's ex-gf,

You may enjoy writing all over his facebook wall and trying to make me feel all insecure but today you have slipped up! You wrote:

"you went to the british museum??? what the hell has happened to you?!? i tried so hard to get you away from that damn computer and to something slightly more cultural."

What happened to him? Me. Clearly the more superior of girlfriends; the one he loves enough to spend an afternoon looking at Greek statues. It's a small victory, but I will take it.


PS: Dear completely irrational jealousy,

Please die.
Dear Break up with BF #4,

I think you might be the one, but you still hurt like a mutherf*cker.

So out of it,
Dear man who inappropriately touched me at lunch yesterday,

If you think you can just violate girls standing in line to get food then you're wrong! I thought it was my friend touching me at first.. but when I realized it was you and I freaked. I should have said something bitchy or hit you or something. Too bad I was too shocked by the fact that sketch people like you exist. Get off me! If I ever see you again I'll touch you back.. with my foot in your sac you sick fucker!

Still disturbed,

PS- It's coincidental that I'm listening to "Touch My Body" by MC right now..
Dear Vag:

You finally did it. You made a commitment and got lasered. And let me just say, IF THIS SHIT ISN'T FUCKING PERMANENT I AM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE b/c so far, no one has gotten to see your bald beauty.

Um, it's been since January, this isn't okay, someone get on me N.O.W.,
Dear Friends,

Ok seriously, why are none of you getting married?!?! I can't believe I just said that....but hey, why the FUCK am I not invited to ANY weddings this summer?! Isn't this what your twenties are about? Owning a billion hideous bridesmaid's dresses and constantly worrying who your plus one will be?!

Today I realized that I have zero invitations for shenanigans in which I get to dress up, dance my ass off, and drink til I die. This needs to change. Mama's thirsty and wants to put on her dancing shoes.

Tie The Knot Dammit!
Dear Coworkers,

STOP telling me I look tired. I know it is code for "you look like shit."

Mornings are hard, get off me,
Dear world,

Is it so wrong that I’m considering putting out simply because my room is a sweatbox and I just want to sleep in a place with air conditioning?

Don’t answer that,
Dear Life,

There are undoubtedly many things that I am never going to understand. I'm not saying that I need to understand the meaning of You (although that would be nice). However, how the hell are there people walking around campus...walking around from A to B...while reading books? Are they really THAT busy that they can't sit down? I'm also going to assume that they are the same people who inexplicably are unable to cross the street in crosswalks and feel the need to just dart out in front of my car whenever they feel like it (usually at twilight while wearing all black) without checking for traffic and then proceed to give me, the driver in a hurry, a dirty look and the finger.

But the multitasking thing...I just don't get it. I can barely read a magazine on the elliptical and people are walking around reading their physics textbooks on the way to who knows where. Oh, and the other day, I saw some chick highlighting a journal article while she was running on the treadmill. Actually running. I'm not hating on this one...I'm seriously just amazed at some people's coordination. Yesterday I walked into my door because I tried to open it before I turned the knob. Amazing.

I'm awesome,

P.S. Can you tell I'm in finals and therefore procrastinating?
Dear Barack Obama-

Please win Pennsylvania.

Dear apartment,

Please don't kill me in my sleep. I just got this whole career thing rolling, me and my bf have finally stopped fighting so much, my face is clearing up, and most importantly, my student loans still have to be paid even if I die and my parents are too poor to support the expense of my undergrad education now.

So how about you simma down now with that carbon monoxide poisoning you might be slowly leaking into my room while i'm sleeping, eh? In the meantime though, I'll just stay up all night like I always do and sleep in my car during my lunch breaks.

You're the greatest!
Dear Self,

Last week, when you were excited about your Dad and Stepmom coming to visit, you conveniently forgot that your parents are 1) incredibly high maintenance and 2) inexplicably insane.

When you decided to go away with them for an entire weekend, you forgot that they drive you completely nuts.

When you agreed to this dinner on Friday, you forgot that you would be introducing your reserved British boyfriend to two of the most unpredictable strange people you know. Who also happen to be related to you. In case he didn't think you were odd enough already.

Here's hoping we all just get drunk,
Dear girl whose job keeps you on the road so I never get to see you:

I have no idea how you got your work to buy me a plane ticket to Chicago for the weekend. 'Course, I don’t care. The only thing sexier than a bunny willing to pay to have you come see her is a bunny who gets her WORK to fly you in. You made my week.

The other hotel guests are going to HATE you by Monday…that's a promise.

Determined to earn my frequent flier miles,
Dear ex who is attempting to revive an old group blog (who’s clever name I devised, thankyouverymuch),

I have Dear Life now. ‘Nuf said.

Dear People Who Post Anonymously on,

I have never seen such malicious and hateful words written in my life. Go kill yourselves. Thanks.


P.S. You're all Nazis.
Dear BF's daughter aka my "God daughter" (what's the correct term for this?),

You are still cute, even though you had your back turned to the audience for the entire time you were onstage for my fashion show.

I am almost positive that even amidst the impending doom of your retarded a** birth mother, you are destined to be the next Tyra Banks. :)

Lub you lil mama,
Dear Grandma

This week?! You decide to die this week?! The week that I have tests coming out of my ass and TWO huge projects and I haven't been drunk in a month!

I can't do this
Dear Recent Switch To YAZ,

I'm pretty sure YOU are the reason I started crying at the target "Good buy, Hello" commercial today.

Hormonally Challenged,

P.S. Please make my boobs bigger.
Dear Lil Jon,

You are possibly the best person I've ever seen in concert. Ever. HHHWHAT?!OKAY!

So Crunk For You,

Creamy. Beige.

"I Love Asians. Asians Are Fierce."

Funnies Home Videos used to be so much better with Bob Saget.
dear ex-boyfriend,

it makes me so sad to see you with your new girlfriend. and i hateeeee that we have mutual friends so we hang out all in a group including your girlfriend. and i hate that i don't hate her. i hate that she gets the moments that i miss so much. i hate that we won't have a spring/summer fling this year. i hate that i'm this sad over you.

i mean, i'm trying. i have a crush. a legitimate crush that MIGHT like me back. why can't i do this?

here's to getting over you,

ps. i'm drunk, dear lifers. sorry. ha.
dear same boy,

i hatehatehatehatehatehatethateHATEYOU.

we work together tonight. we are flirting and talking and being amazing like we always are, and you ask if i want to come over later. i say yes. then after work, you ask me what i'm doing tonight. i remind you that less than an hour ago you invited me over, and you say you can't hang out because you have finals next week and have to study and that i will "distract you."

you wanted reassurance that you're still "the man" by getting me to say that i wanted you
and/ or
you are the dumbest piece of shit ever with nothing resembling a short term memory
you actually do not have a soul or a moral compass
you might actually be studying, but probably not
perhaps you realized that you still have not broken up with your fug ass bitch of a girlfriend and hmmm.. felt bad.

well FUCK ME, boy, for ever thinking i would be enough to change you and your sick relationship tendencies and your backbone made of overcooked spaghetti.

in a perfect world, i would say no when you ask me to hang out tomorrow night, and when you ask why, i would yell at you and tell you all the things i hate about you and all the ways you've made me miserable in the past month.

but in the real world, where c is a dumbass whore who made the mistake of having feelings, i will reason with myself and tell myself that it's okay to see you one more time since after this weekend i won't see you at least until august or perhaps never, right? that it's okay to just have fun with you, because i can turn off my feelings, right?


i am so, so wrong.
and i have no idea how to be right again.

and i can't talk to you about it, because i'm scared you'll think i'm a big crazy freak and never talk to me again.

fuck you and fuck my life.

Dear Local News,

Why do I feel compelled to read you every couple of weeks?
Oh yeah, probably to be reminded that there are people like this in the world, and that they are breeding:

Hoping I don't get my ass capped by a 4 year old,
Dear BF,

When we're talking about the L-word and you say, "I love...spending time with you", and I start crying, you should know why.


'Tude Much?

Dear Jim and Pam:

God, I heart y'all. Please always be so ridiculously cute and in love and keeping me believing in love like that.

sighs and hearts and stars,
Dear Scrabulous,

I was just playing an innocent game of you with my mother, and you gave me this:

Get off me, you judgmental asshole,
Dear extremely insecure moms,

Is THIS really the lesson that you want your young daughters to learn?

Deeply saddened,

p.s. not that anything is wrong with cosmetic surgery PER SE, but to actually have a book explaining why "mommy thinks she's a fat, ugly cow" doesn't really give a positive self-image to young girls, whose bodies will change constantly over the upcoming years, causing them to possibly develop premature eating disorders and self-esteem problems. Just a thought.
There are no words:
Dear McDonalds Value Meal,

After the day I had yesterday you well worth the calories and carcinogens. The effect of a medium fries and chicken Mcnuggets after no fast food for six months was like crack cocaine on my system. So what if I have to put on a bikini in like, a month? You were worth every magical bite. Same goes for you giant chocolate bar.

Think I'm having withdrawal...

I highly resent the following:,,20191875,00.html

Just because a girl in her early-to-mid-20s can eat an entire brisket sandwich and french fries at lunch, and then has dinner later that night, does NOT mean she's eating for two! By that standard, I'd be about two years pregnant. Also? Food is delicious, so it's okay to eat "with gusto". You all but called Ashlee Simpson a fatty, and frankly, my size-four self is grievously offended.

Extending you the double-bird,
dear illness,

what the fuck? when i woke up with a sore throat i was angry but an hour into work you hit me with aches and pains, chills then sweats then repeat, pounding headache, dizziness, upset stomach, and VOMITING?! you've crossed the line with the puking, buddy. so, why don't you fuck off? i don't wanna be sick. its 72 degrees outside. i got shit to do that doesn't include having the plague.

you better not be mono,
Dear roommate,

Sorry me and my bf have been getting it on like bunnies lately. It's just that it's been so hot. And he's so hot. Then, I get hot and...well you know the rest. Or you've heard the rest, I should say.

But seriously dude, you should try to get laid at some point of us living together. I've been there 4 months, and I haven't heard thumping yet! I promise I won't be offended to hear your dvd collection come crashing to the ground, or the sound of latex snapping. Even a moan or two is permissible. Don't bother me none.

I just hate coming out of my room to do my usual pee-after-sex (take note ladies), and having you see me all sweaty and happy. You should be sweaty and happy too, instead of just sweaty...

Anywayz, I'll see what I can do on my part to get you hooked up with one of my bf's friends. In the meantime tho, I do have a few suggestions:
1) STOP watching La Femme Nikita. I beg you. I don't know what guys think of it, but I'm almost positive that it makes you some kind of weird geek like those Trekkie people. Eww...
2) Do your hair. You can brush it, comb it, you can wet it or set it. There is a whole WORLD of things you can do to it. Don't just leave it and let it be. Makes you look like a crackhead, seriously.
3) Become best friends with the gym and best enemies with chocolate chip cookies. Nuff said.

With this plan of action, I figure you'll be pregnant by the time you're 35. That pretty much only leaves us 2 years to make this happen, so let's get it crackin!

Happy Humping,
Dear Ex GF,

I don't really care if you have a new guy that lives even further away than your previous guy....just stop lying to me about it. You've had some shitty things happen to you, but that doesn't mean you can do shitty things to me. Fool me once....

Dear women who hate men because we are all assholes:

Though you have a point…we are all dicks…you have no reason to complain…

It IS totally your fault we’re tools, after all.

The notion that you want the nice, sensitive, caring boy who thinks the world of you is bullshit. The nice guys get no ass. No ass means no little nice guys. So they’ve died off. RIP nice guys.

The dangerous, insensitive, difficult-to-win-over-boy with tattoos, piercings and dubious morals with the wandering eye is the challenge to you. YOU all pick us, don’t forget, not the other way around. And we understand it…when the jerk likes you, you feel special. When the nice guy is nice, who the fuck cares? He’s nice to everybody! After all, we all chase the hottie bitches for similar reasons.

So no, it’s the bad choice…not the nice guy…who you make out with and take home again and again. That nice boy who princess-carried your drunk ass home and tucked you in with a cup of water left by your bed? You break that fucker’s heart like there's money in it. Being sweet is the biggest mistake a dude can make.

THAT’S why you don’t get to complain about the asshole gene.

Our asshole gene is simple evolution. The caveman who painted pretty pictures on the walls and listened to what the cavechick’s histrionic hopes and dreams? No offspring. His ass got sent outside where he got eaten by a Sabertooth.

Nope, The cave linebacker who got Cro-Magnon on the Mammoth is who the cave-sweety chose. His insensitive furrowed brow is the one y’all made out with…

…so that’s who we’re all descended from! The purebred niceguy? Totally extinct. Killed off by lack of getting chosen. You don’t get to consistently pick assholes to take home and then hate that that’s what we all are! We have fucking conformed to your preferences!

So deal with it.


You know you’re more mystified by the jerks, anyway. Enjoy enjoying what you’ve created, already.
Dear Michael Jackson Impersonator,

Arriving an hour and a half late and then demanding to get paid full price is sooooo stupid of you. Do you KNOW who I am and what I can do to you? Get over yourself. You weren't even worth the initial investment that I was willing to put up for you to perform.

Tell me again how you can do a "Thriller" performance and: a) not bring your own music, stating that "Everyone has 'Thriller'", b) do the SAME dance for the entire 6 minute song, and c) not even lipsinc the lyrics because you didn't know them? Thank God I saved my money.

Oh and don't worry about the verbal assassination I issued you when you asked where the rest of your money was. It was nothing wait, yes it was, but it doesn't make you special. It just forever places you on my shit list, right under "Crab-faced racist lunch lady" and just below "Inefficient A**hole".

Good thing the $3 drinks got my bf drunk enough not to notice that you sucked.

Keep your day job, a**hole,
Dear general male population,

I have absolutely lost all faith in you. I'm pretty damn sure the asshole gene was installed in each and every one of you upon birth, but some of you are just more adept at utilizing that gene than others.

And YOU -- your body is just completely fused with asshole DNA. Only an asshole like you would make date plans for that super fancy, important gala that I was honored to be attending with you .. and then out of nowhere dump me a week beforehand because you're "seeing someone else." Where the fuck did you pull that one from, buddy? And you are perfectly aware that I now have a $350 non-returnable dress hanging on the back of my closet door. You let me go ahead and buy the dress while you were planning this entire little shenanigan. I work hard for my money and, for some dumbass reason, invested $350 .. in YOU.

So, that leaves only one thing to be said.

You owe me fucking $350. I want my damn money right now. And you WILL pay it to me, because I know where you live, and I know people. Remember me by that, asshole.

And I also want to let you know that your new girlfriend that "you love so much and miss so much! even though you've only been dating for about a week!" has more STDs than you have fingers. But since she can't write, count, or multitask to save her life, she probably doesn't even know what an STD is (or how to spell it -- she definitely gives new meaning to the term "dumb blonde").

Have fun living with gonorrhea!

Dear Shameless,

For the love of all things holy, how dare you complain about naked Australians in your bed?

Penelope Ann
Dear Australian Roommates,

I know you think you are oh-so-funny, but when I come home drunk at 5am, the last thing I feel like doing is shooing one or more of your naked asses out of my bed. And tonight when I was cozily curled up and deep asleep I just about had a heart attack when two of you tried to jump on top of your skivvies. Jesus, I only have a twin bed! And I don't need your junxes free floating in it! The fact that you seemed to really enjoy being chased away with my spiky hairbrush is also deeply troubling.

Does anyone else in the world have this problem?
dear life,

There is hope in this world ... I believe!

Thank you,
Dear Ex girlfriend....

Thank you so much for the last couple of years. Yes, I thought that you weren't really ready for a serious relationship since your last ones were centered around sexual acts with boyfriends or friends with benefits. You, however, in your sweet ways, convinced me you had changed and that you were no longer going to do those physical things with people. That you actually wanted a serious relationship and that you would gladly wait on the other things until you found that person. It further convinced me when you watched porn with me, participated in a three way, used toys, gave a strip tease, role played, etc. It caught me off guard, however, when we abruptly stopped seeing each other a couple of months ago. However, it shocked me more when I saw you with another guy shortly after. I mean, you gave no clues that you had resorted back to your old ways. The dialogue between us was so convincing....

Ex Boyfriend: Are you sure you're ready for a relationship?
Ex Girlfriend: Yes, I'm not the same person..Now, lets watch porn.
Ex Boyfriend: Are you sure
Ex Girlfriend: Yes, I would love a three way
Ex Boyfriend: Well, you really don't want those things with anyone else?
Ex Girlfriend: No....Well, I like to think of other guys and get off..

Ah, I feel better. I seriously hope you get what you're looking for. It's my understanding you will be leaving Music City soon. I guess you ran out of guys. Good luck as you infiltrate another population of males. Remember, do your stretches....You're bound to pull a muscle.


(image from her myspace page)

Dear ex-roommate,

I pretty much hate your guts. When we moved here to LA, you seemed normal enough. Fat, but normal. Then, as time progressed, I realized you liked going to church more than paying rent. This was a problem. But we let a couple months slide because you were let go from your secretary job at the fire station. I know what it’s like to have hard times financially (THANK YOU WRITER’S GUILD!). Other roommate and I would ask you about rent money and you would say “Oh I’m just waiting on check from work!” Riiiiiiiiiight. You never had time to write a rent check, but somehow you had PLENTY of time to go to Disneyland. Multiple times. You, being the not-smart person that you are had the balls to post pictures from your fun little day trips with your skinny-guy nerd boyfriend on Facebook and MySpace. Did you think we would not notice? Did you think we were idiots? Well we did, and we’re not. We found you out for what you really are: a fat, disgusting, lying, manipulating bible-banger with no sense of hygiene or respect for other people. And I’m pretty sure you stole my Kenneth Cole watch. I can’t wait to tell all your friends about the time I walked into your room to find a pair of shit-ridden panties lying on the floor. Do you not wipe your ass? DISGUSTING. Listen bitch, if you can’t pay the rent you’re paying now (of which you owe 5 months worth) you are NEVER GOING TO MAKE IT IN LOS ANGELES. Just go back to Oklahoma. You’re a piece of shit and I hate you.

Rant over
I feel better
Dear Spring,

So all day I've heard birds chirping rather loudly and consistently outside my window, and I thought maybe it was the storms that were making them so agitated. Then I realized, that it's spring, and they're probably just having bird sex.

Thanks for the visual,
Dear self,

Next time you move and hire a company to do it for you, remember to check under the couch for condom wrappers.

Dear Dream About Puppies,

Ummm. wow. Best happy dream ever. How cute were the little furballs that wanted to crawl all over me and lick me. What did I take the night before that induced you?

Oh, but the man that offered to give me a puppy for free if I got preggers before my friend...that better not be the way my biological clock decides to speak to me.

make puppies, not babies,

Dear Dr. Who,

Granted I've only seen like three episodes, but your show makes ZERO point ZERO sense! Space traveling telephone booths? Body snatching cats dressed as nurses? Terrifying murderous scare crows of doom? HUH?

The only thing more mysterious than your plot lines is why I find David Tennant so strangely attractive.

Going to keep tuning in...
Dear Unemployed Friend-

Thanks for inviting me out for coffee, which led to drinks across the street which led to being drunk at 4:00 in the afternoon.


ps: let's do it again tomorrow.
"I see that you keep on thanking God but your language and how you view or treat other people, in my honest opinion, is not well off with God's. How come?"

Hey asshole...."what happened to stand up and be counted". Nothing better than some jerkoff playing the "holier than thou" card and remaining anonymous. For all you know, A could actually be the second coming of Christ in her formative years. If you ever decide to sack up and speak in front of all of us, then I can get to criticizing your narrow mindedness.

Jon Shay in Denver
Dear Annoying Coworker,

HA! Your wife has MONO?! Who's she been kissing - 12 year old boys?? Or..A?!

Dear spring breakers,

I just wanted to let you all know that you can shove it because Florida is overrated. Mexico is overrated. (The caribbean? Okay, not so much, I wouldn't mind wasting a week in Barbados, but that's not the point.) Spending a relaxing week at home with a couple friends is not as torturous as you might think, especially since I'm here working and making a shitload of money while you're all down there WASTING IT.

And I really appreciate YOU calling me "the only time you've been sober" just to let me know that you're having the time of your life, although you can't remember exactly how you ended up on the beach this morning. And I can't exactly remember why I'm dating you. But hey, spring break only happens once a year, right? And there's nothing like STDs from those Florida girls, I always say.

I think I'm going to need to buy earplugs to avoid your wild spring break stories. Do I look like I care?

Totally not bitter (can't you tell?),
Dear med student CF says I'm going to marry,

I am crazy about you. Our first date lasted over 6 hours and not once was there an awkward pause or silence. When we weren't playing off each other's jokes, we were literally rolling on the grass, unable to breathe, and cracking up! I think you might be perfect [tall, handsome, genuine] and I have never connected with someone so quickly and on such a level in my entire life!! It was as if we had known each other for years and when I got home the last thing I wanted to do was stop talking about you. Honestly, writing this doesn't even see to do justice to how you make me feel.

In deep like right now,

PS I dreamt last night that we were holding hands and I was the happiest I had ever been.
Dear Eighteen (18!) Red Roses,

Holy shit! You're beautiful and smell wonderful. You are an amazing surprise to end an otherwise totally shitty day (involving the Unattainable Coworker guilt-tripping me and the New Crush bailing on our plans at the last minute). The only way you'd be better is if you hadn't been sent by the Ex (who treated me like crap when we were together)--and you know, beggars can't be choosers.

I'm gonna go get a bottle of wine and spend the evening with it and you. Seriously, it's amazing how happy you're making me right now.

Love and happiness,
Dearest A and dear lifers,

Did anyone else get the irony and humor of the comment poster questioning A's faith? Why would a bible thumper be reading dear life? What topics are covered on this blog that might interest that person? This is just so rich in hypocrisy!

Dear Judgmental and Sanctimonious People:

I hate you. You’re always hypocrites. Nobody ever looks behind the door unless they’ve stood there themselves. That’s why I avoid you, don’t give you second chances at work and fire you, and don’t cosign your bullshit. I work to keep my life free of you. I will try keep it that way.

But now you’re riding “A.” Get off her. I like the “Dear Life” blog. It makes me smile. Sanctimorons don’t make me smile. See the disconnect? My suggestion: fuck off.

Here’s my argument: Casting stones is mean. I used to have an 80 MPH fastball, so let’s not play. Just put down the fucking rocks and walk away, preachy people, and I’ll can go back to my escapist schadenfreude, M’Kay?

To conclude...
A = good.
Mean people = bad.


If you crowd the plate I will pop you.

Not love,


Dear Ron Jeremy,

When you kissed two of my drunk friends last night, I hope you didn't give them oral herpes. And, I can't believe they didn't ask to see your ween. Or that you didn't whip it out.

Dear lady that I thought was a man in the parking garage,

Nice feather do.

I also loved that you were BLASTING Bon Jovi's "You give love a bad name" whilst you furiously brushed out your hair. Bad. Ass.

Now if only I could figure out what year you think it is.

Oh well...*Rocker Fist*
Dear New York City,

You. Me. BFF. Can't wait for my feet to touch your ground. It's been too long. Shopping, wine, eating, wine, Wicked, wine. All the while surrounded by.....real life.

See you Friday,
Dear "Christians",

I swear. I drink. I occasionally dabble in the reefer. I make fun of people. Sometimes I don't respect my parents.

Guess what, I'm not perfect. SURPRISE! Neither are you.

Romans 7:19 "For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing."

You know how it is.

If you could kindly stop judging me, I'd really appreciate it though, because I would like to get back to my faith which I have been neglecting for years because I was too scared to go back church and face people like you. If what you're trying to do is get me "saved"
(if you knew me it at all, you would know i already am), know that you are prohibiting me from doing so by blocking the doors with people who immediately write me off for the lifestyle choices I;ve made instead of my character, faith, or heart.

If you're perfect, by all means, cast the first stone. If not, spread the biblical word, which is Love. Pure and simple.

Last time I checked "love" was the opposite of judgement.

Dear Mono,

I finally figured you out, you tricksy bitch! Thank God for blood tests because that sore throat was making me feel like I was getting cruxified everytime I swallowed for the past 2 days.

And thanks for sending me to hospital for inexplicable reasons 2 weekends ago (OH YEAH, BECAUSE MY SPLEEN WAS INFLAMMED.....idiot doctors).

All I have to say is Thank God the call to the bf didn't have to mirror my friend's call to tell her ex bf she had gonorrhea. He was surprisingly sympathetic and unphazed since he's already had mono and thereby in the clear. I guess I never got the memo that I was supposed to have gotten you five years ago like everyone else.

Dear Self,

Please go running today. You are getting fat and it's really unattractive. Maybe that's why New Crush can't seem to decide if he's interested or not.

Sick me out,
Dear bf's baby mama,

You have seriously become the bane of my existence. It's bad enough that your daughter will be 3-years-old soon and she is not potty trained. (I mean, i don't know HOW you just "don't have the time" to potty train her, when you don't even have a job and you sit your fat *ss at home all day watching reruns of Degrassi.) But now you keep her from coming to the audition I set up for her with Disney because you "don't feel like driving". I hate you, you silly b*tch.

You are a lazy, trailer trash cow and I want to make a loser burger sandwich out of you.

I'm almost sad that having your daughter was probably your greatest accomplishment. It just sucks that she has such a waste of life for a mother.

Looking for a child custody lawyer AS WE SPEAK,
dear boy,

i like you a lot and you know it. you also know that i've been completely honest with you about virtually everything in our "relationship" thus far.

so i'm guessing that probably somewhere in there you know that you're really hurting me.

because you have not broken up with your long-distance, way too young for you, ridiculously controlling former crystal meth addict (not kidding) of a girlfriend. and you didn't tell her that you cheated on her like you promised me you would and it's been two weeks.

i would understand if you guys were happy, and if it had only happened once, and if you didn't keep asking me to go to crazy drunken parties with you at which you drop not-so-subtle hints about how much you want to dump her until we go back to your place and have wonderful sex that is actually not wonderful at all because it makes you a liar and a cheater and me the other woman.

but since you whine like a little bitch to EVERYONE we work with about how much you want to be done with her, and still can't find it in you to dump her or at least tell her the truth,

i'm pretty sure that for some sick sad reason you're never going to be done with her even though she treats you like shit.

i don't know why i don't feel like i deserve you, or how i can POSSIBLY think you are still a good guy, after all of this.
i don't know why i'm still ignoring the voice in my head that's telling me to give up on you now before i hurt myself any more hopelessly chasing after you.
i don't know why you cannot break up with the one thing in your life that makes you sad 99% of the time.

all i know is that waking up next to you makes me happier than i've been in a long time.

so please don't fuck me over, boy. i want you, and you want me too.
why is that hard?

dear boss,

get off me. i understand you think i'm cute and funny and all that but this is getting ridic. texting me all the time saying you like me is cute and all. but, COME ON. when i first started you hated me. you made me cry. TWICE. and now you realize that i'm a bamf so you're all up on this. get real. you're a cool dude and i dig when you're nice and we get along grade A style... but when you go completely bipolar and say that "i broke your heart" and that i'm evil?... just no.

so yeah, i won't sleep with you, sorry about that,
Dear Mom,

I went to college 8 hours away from home.. and now I'm kind of glad. Because now it seems when I live 3 hours away, you visit all the damn time. It's not that I don't like you but.... its getting a bit excessive. And my boyfriend is kinda sick of you too. Can't you visit like... once every 3 months just to buy me things and take me out to dinner??

I'm fine.
Get off me,



Hanging Tough,
Dear Speed-dating,

YOU ARE AWESOME! Not only did I have a line of guys waiting to talk to me but I had two of them have a dance off for my number and had a contest going that included three rounds of questions such as "what would you do for our first date" and "how will you convince my brothers not to rip your balls off?" PLUS I actually met at least 4 decent soon to be doctors. I cannot even stress how much I loved it when I was told: "Apparently you are the speed-dating girl, all my friends keep talking about you." Don't even get me started on how many times I got to say, "Guys we don't need to have a 'whose horse is bigger' convo"

I am a cartoon.

BONUS- guy I was kind of seeing who was all over other girl last weekend- yeah well one of his good friends and I really hit it off [insert devil horns]
Dear Orville Redenbacher,

I hate you. Your delicious popcorn is just so damn tantalizing that when I opened my pantry tonight, fuming about men, I couldn't help but grab a bag, pop it, and butter it -- and now I feel like I ate the whole box, not just one bag. Thus, I hate you. Thanks a lot.

And perhaps you'd better have a chat with New Boy in My Life, seeing as how it's really his fault you're making me suffer. When men upset me, I resort to eating, and tonight you were the perfect victim .. or rather, I was YOUR perfect victim.

So yeah, New Boy, maybe Orville can teach you how to pick up your damn phone, read your damn texts, or stick to your damn plans. I mean, I would totally understand if you got hit by a bus and are currently lying in the intensive care unit at the hospital .. yeah, I'd accept that excuse. Anything else is definitely non-negotiable.

I hope you get caught in a freak hurricane next week in Panama City.

Still hating you, Orville,
Dear Cable Company,

Fuck. You figured me out.

Dear bf,

I love the fact that when I said "man, i need to make some extra money", your solution was that we make a mixed tape of our favorite home sex videos and call it "Little Red Riding D*ck, Vol 1". Good one babe. And we would totally make a fortune...

Looks like we'll be retiring early,
dear crush,

jackrabbit much? why don't you simmer the fuck down a litter bit. seriously.

i don't even understand how my vag comprehended that as good. welllll, okay, it was decent. but wow, calm down. and why don't you do some of the work?

Dear fucktards who are in charge of the train, bus, or other random public transport scheme:

Waiting for 20 minutes in one spot to make up for your schedule inadequacies is an insult to us all. We all know you are doing blow, taking a deuce, or fucking a whore and trying to pretend like this is a scheduled hour-long stop. Speaking of which, JESUS CHRIST I COULD HAVE FUCKING WALKED HOME BY NOW!!!!! And I can only listen to Don't Stop Believin so many times.

The train that just pulled up next to us was supposed to show up 10 minutes
after we left. This is awesome.

PS I am going to start blowing people for rides and I don't even care. I
mean, I don't get cold sores so YTF should I even give it a second thought?

PPS I just said "yeah, fuck you" to the automated voice that says the
are closing. I might have a problem.
Dear Sam Adams,

So I'm having trouble. You see, I have the incredible urge at most times to drink obscene amounts of your beer because it tastes so good. However, I also have this incredible urge to not want to be a fatty fat fatterson. Despite my lack of motivation, I am trying desperately to NOT gain weight. You are not helping. Especially now that the Summer Ale is out, and it's really tasty.

Cracking open another bottle,