Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Dinobody love me...

Dear GIGI,
You just loooove chewing the crotch out of my undies. I wish you wore undies, so you could feel how I feel, when I chew out your crotches.

Dear Rosa,
Impulse buying is a bad habit. Impulse buying the VHS tape of "Sister act 2: Back in the Habit," is a no brainer.

Dear Mr. Banks,
I was in 9th grade, you were my Gov't teacher. I was wildly in love with you.

Dear GIGI,
When I readjust my body in bed, don't leap to your feet and stare at me. You are not a human, you shouldn't be in my fuckin bed anyway jerk. I do love your cuddles...

Dear Wine,
How come when I drink the red version of you, I become a mellowed out conversationalist. And when I drink the white version of you, I become a Joan Rivers?

Dear Porn,
I watch you for the commentary.

Dear Red Heels,
You make me look sexy, until I take you off to reveal my mangled feet. Walking around tonight I actually said to myself "don't acknowledge the pain" -Its like watching the new Harry Potter all over again.

Dear High School Vending Machine Guy,
I can still see you standing at the vending machine row, aggressively asking other students "Can I get yo change?!" Literally, I can still see you there.

Dear Jurassic Park,
You are the perfect date.

Dear Car Accident,
Without you, I would have never had the experience of someone sewing up my forehead. How many people have watched a thread and needle go into their face? Besides Mickey Rourke like a trillion times... for fun.

Dear 14 year old Rosa,
These are lyrics to one of your favorite songs circa 1999:
"I'm Good At Being Bad" by TLC
Sunny days Birds singin' sweet soundin' songs of love (That's so pretty girl) As we walk hand in hand Just kickin' up sand As the ocean laps at our feet (ooh) I'm in your arms And all of your charms are for me (Not for me) Check it I need a crunk tight nigga Makes seven figgas Laced with a platinum Not the silver shit nigga And still seek her Ten inch or bigga Know how to lick it and stick it Wha wha

Dear Alanis Morriset, (sp?)
When you drastically cut your hair, I reacted the same way I did when Felicity cut her hair. I cried... because as your locks fell to the ground, so did your career.

Dear Alexander Technique,
It is really hard to monkey down onto the toilet and release when taking the morning pee.

Dear Meisner Technique,
This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.This is torture.

Dear Li'l Wayne,
My mom likes you, and I don't know its out of fear like it was with DMX. She thinks your natural approach to lyrics is refreshing. Its almost like you just show up to the studio, talk, and then peace out...

Dear Mickey D's,
I have learned my lesson. No more bringing you into the movie theater. The moment I open up the bag of delicious fries, your distinctive smell rushes into the air and hovers over the crowd like the fog around Hogwarts. I feel uncomfortable eating you while people around my general area send murmurs to each other about their desire to also eat Mickey D's. Leggo my Mickey D's!

Dear Inner Child,
Your title is INNER child, not OUT IN PUBLIC child. Nobody listens to me.

Dear Mr. Conyers,
As far as middle school principals go, you were a tad unorthodox. Everyone knew your wife used to be your hooker, and we knew your "medical degree" was totally bogus... but other than those things you were an alright dude.

Dear Orlando Jones,
You are the only thing keeping me form buying tickets to The Wiz. It is hard to imagine you as the cowardly lion when all I can see is you being pelted with 7up cans from a rogue vending machine.

Dear 60 minutes,
Thank you for your segment on "Millenium Kids." It helps people like my boss understand me a little better.

Dear Loneliness,
You should give me incentive to get things done. Instead you give me incentive to do myself in.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

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