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    Saturday, April 11, 2009

    To All It May Concern

    To the asshole trying to merge in front of me at 12:45 this morning as I came home from B's house: you best put your foot in it if you're going to pull your stupid piece of shit car in front of my van on the interstate. You're an asshat. Move it or lose it.

    To the complete morons who previously owned this house at some point: Why did you bury more than 100 bricks, laid out in a REALLY stupid pattern, three inches under the grass in my back yard? Was it a makeshift patio that you just let the grass and dirt take over? Are you just that stupid? I think yes. Yes, you are.

    To the people in the world who decide who can or can't buy houses: PLEASE implement an IQ test. Soon. Every person who's ever owned this house before us lacks the basic intelligence to make ANY good decisions required of a homeowner. This buried brick bullshit is just Case-In-Point #2356 since 2005.

    To the made-me-feel-skinny-moron on the Little Rascal in Target with the 300-pound 8 year old riding in front of you: Here's a tip. When you RAM INTO THE BACK OF SOMEONE while they are patiently waiting in line, and push them so hard that you propel them INTO the side of the conveyor belt, the polite thing to say is "I'm so sorry"... or "I apologize"... or even "Excuse me, I didn't mean to do that". Your the-lights-are-on-but-nobody's-home expression, which I saw when I turned to see who had tried to assissinate me by motorized shopping cart, saved you from the verbal lashing I had planned from the moment I felt my knees knocked out from under me. Clearly you are TOO STUPID to understand how to function in the world. Feel free to send someone else to do your shopping for Ho-ho's and National Enquirer next time.

    To my husband: If I left the game on, at a continue point, it's because I hadn't cleared that level yet, and planned to return soon. Just so you know in the future. Cuz' I'm SURE you wouldn't just jack me on purpose so you can play YOUR game. Hope you got YOUR level cleared, though. Smooches. Oh, and you're welcome to get me back to where I was - that level sucks (which is WHY I left it on...but I think you knew that).

    To Maidenform: THANK YOU for your new body shaper which I picked up tonight and would like to wear all day every day. It is all I have looked for in a lycra garment for years and years. The "flap" crotch should work fine when I have to pee, but I'll get back to you on how it works when I need to drop some friends off at the pool. I see me undressing myself in Aunt P's bathroom tomorrow, and trying not to hurt myself in the process, just to take a dump. Stay tuned.

    To Facebook: Your "new" format sucks my ass (and that's no small task). Put it the fuck back. Or I'll go back to school and learn all about programming and build my own site based on your OLD format. I'll do it. Don't you make me go and get a life. Just put it back.

    To my ILs: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. We love you and we are grateful.

    To my sister: Call Dad back. Please? Please. I'm begging you. You're killing me.

    To the makers of Starburst: Why must you make jelly beans? Why? You seemingly like my ass nice and fat.

    To myself: You also seemingly like my ass nice and fat. Put the fork down. Get back on the Beach before your huge whaleness of a body GETS BEACHED there for good. They'll bring in a helicopter and giant mesh straps, and try to haul your mass back out to sea, but it'll be too late. The Starburst Jelly Beans and the chicken nuggets with honey mustard sauce will have done their terrible work. And drink some water once in a while, for fuck's sake. Just because diet soda LISTS water as an ingredient doesn't mean it's a great substitute.

    To you, my readers: Have a blessed weekend, and thanks for reading.


    Angela said...

    Can we be fat ass BFF's? Starburst Jelly beans are sent from the devil to destroy me. I have three bags in the pantry. 3.

    Missives From Suburbia said...

    Wait, you don't take off your clothes to poop anyway?