Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Letters from the Loony Bin.

Dear Ladies of Australia,

I realise it's exciting when a big name fashion designer finally decides to make a pair of pants that aren't going to set you back a cool thousand but really, you should be ashamed of yourselves. Descending like a pack of vultures on a pair of pants and a knit top is pathetic. I hate you.



Dear Vagina,

I saw a tumbleweed blowing gently across your humble emptiness today. It didn't even bother me, I just stood by and let it roll past.



Dear Parent of that 18 Month Old Toddler Who Put The Car Into Gear and Ran Over You,

I guess when baby says he don't wanna go potty, then he don't wanna go potty. Capish?



PS: No more 'Wiggles' music or dad gets it!

Dear Cleaner,

When you say you like me do you mean you like how anal I am about cleanliness around the art room or just sumthin sumthin ANAL?


Starting to Leave Before You Get There.

Dear Auntie T,

No, I don't think putting a sign across my chest that says "husband wanted" would work.

Thanks for the suggestion though,


Eternal Spinster.

Dear #1,

That conversation with you the other day made me feel less like a childless freak and more like the luckiest person in the world. I'm sad you have cracked nipples and a computer game playing husband that makes you feel like you're babysitting two kids. I love being able to squish my boobs without screaming in pain.

Of course squishing your own boobs is a bit pathetic.



Still thinking This One Out.

Dear Writers of the TV Show Scrubs,

I wish you would write me into your script. I would love to live inside you.


A Fan.

Dear Piece of Food on the Floor,

Was it 3 second rule or 30 second rule? Does it really matter, anyway? Starving children in Africa don't have any rules...or food.



Dear Bloggers,

You might not want to answer this but - right now you're pregnant do you Abort, Adopt out or just make it work hell or high water? Yes, boys, you get a choice too.



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