Dear NaBloPoMo: You are a real pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?
Dear Wilbur: Could you please stop going into heat even though you have been “Fixed”? My carpet is sick of getting raped.
Dear Insomnia: You are way out of control, you really are.
Dear Period: Can you just lay off for awhile? Oh, and a cessation of sucky facial outbreaks involving you would be most appreciated. Thanks.
Dear Jon: Could you please not work a billion hours this week so that I can remember what you look like?
Dear Golden Grahams: As much as I love you, I have to stop thinking that a few handfuls of you and Diet Coke are an adequate dinner.
Dear Chelle: I miss you.
Dear Nameless Family Member: You know I love you, but could you give me a little more than 20 minutes heads up to ask if I can go to the vagina doctor to be supportive of you?
Dear Vagina Doctor Office Staff: Could you please, please, PLEASE have something to read in your waiting room besides 30 copies of “American Baby”?
Dear Person Who Donated A Copy Of “Time” Magazine In Aforementioned Vagina Doctor Waiting Room With A Written Note That Expressed Your Disdain For “American Baby” : I love you.
Dear Dollar Theater: If you say that you say that you are open 7 days a week and have a movie playing at 9:40, please actually be open.
Dear Nooncy: The book rocks the house. You are nice and smell like flowers.
Dear Diet Coke: I love you. I adore you. You are not good for me, though. I feel like one day soon we are going to have to sit down and have a little talk.
Dear Kasey: You are a good friend. I know you have my back, BB.
Dear Smith’s Marketplace: Can you please stop having tremendous shoe sales when I have no budget for shoes?
Dear Tide With Bleach: You ran out on me today. I think that this is going to cause a major breakdown in our relationship. Plus, it would have been a good day to put my head inside and take a big, long sniff.
Dear Anxiety: Please go away. Please? You causing all sorts of problems in my life. You make me afraid of my blog and phone and are wrecking havoc with my social life.
Dear James and Christopher: I love you more than my luggage. THAT said; it really sucks that all your Halloween candy got tossed today because you kept sneaking it and leaving eleventyhundred wrappers all over the house.
Dear Future Child/Children: Could you please speak up a little louder and let me know if you are indeed out there? Cause clarity in this decision would be freaking nice.
Dear Production Of “The Messiah”: Thank you for letting me shine again this year. It helps. It really does.
Dear Singstar 80′s: One day you shall be mine. Oh, yes, you shall be mine.
Dear Voters: Please remember to vote tomorrow. Unless you have no idea what the issues are or who the candidates are. If that is you? Please stay the freak at home.
Dear Utah Jazz: I have accepted the fact that you are going to make your presence known in our house year after year, so I am not going to waste my time imploring you to go away. Just try not to totally suck this year so that my husband is less grumpy.
Dear Owners Of My Childhood Home: You made it look so ugly. It makes me sad.
Dear Father: The fact that you refuse to eat ham because you have a pig valve in your heart and would consider it “Cannibalism” is endearing, but I think it is rather silly that you would go hungry because of it. I’m just sayin’…
Dear Inner Child: You’re totally cramping my style.
Dear Linny: Happy birthday, Sis. You are amazing. What a strength you are for a tiny little runt. GRIN.
Dear Flabby Ass, Thighs and Saddlebags: Look, I know that I have a habit of completely neglecting you, but could you manage to pull yourself together and be on your best behavior when we go looking for jeans to buy? Please?
Dear Karen: You are an inspiration to me. You can do it.
Dear Fragile Feelings: Enough already! Stop!! Please!!! You are destroying my life.
Dear Rachel: Having 33 written reasons why you think I am a good friend is pretty sweet. Thanks.
Dear Blog Readers: I have been shamefully reminded that I need a blogroll. I took it down on my last blog because too many people were getting cranky over it which made me cranky as well. I did mean to feature my readers on this new site, but haven’t gotten around to it. I’m working on it. It may not be the fancy pants screen shot of OMSH and Kerflop, but I am working on a way to give my readers linky-love. I’ll let you know when you can send me your url. (P.S. I wuv you.)
Dear Theater Company That Keeps Emailing Me About The Show I Am Torn About Doing: Just stop, ok? The guilt is killing me.
Dear WalMart: You suck.
Dear Target: Can you please come to Logan so that we have more options than suck in this valley?
Dear Little Latin Boy In Drag: Why are you crying? (Name the movie.)
*Thanks to Belinda for the inspiration.