September 15, 2009
Hello! I'd ask how you are, but since you've been couch crashing at my place for the past 4 1/2 months, I know exactly how you are. (And you need a shower.) Simply put, Unemployment: You've overstayed your welcome.
Granted, like a nerd on prom night, I couldn't wait to get my hands on you last May. You with your enticements of "free time," "sleeping in" and "shopping at Target while its empty instead of the weekend when every idiot takes their entire family out to buy a box of Band-Aids." You got me like the Fox News gets middle America. Hook. Line. Sinker.
But now, unemployment, I find you... annoying. Oh sure, my dog Matilda LOVES you, but don't let that fool you. She also loves my not-so-good-friend, Migraine, as well because Migraine likes to keep me on the couch for days at a time, which for Matilda means 'round the clock snuggles. (I know, my dog is co-dependent, that's a separate letter, Unemployment. This letter is about YOU.)
Anyhoo... I'd like to suggest that you move along from here. Get out. Pack your bags. Find some other sap who finds your "free time" alluring. Oh and you can shove it where the unemployment check don't shine. Just for funsies.
Will work for dignity,
PS - If you could at least wash the dishes in the sink, I'd let you stay.
Dear Guy at Subway,
Oh my stars, aren't you a prize? Who am I, you ask? I was the girl in the yogurt shop watching your incredible disregard for all other human beings around you.
First of all, I'd like to commend you on your outfit. Orange flowered shorts and a blue t-shirt with slippers. Dude. You either have major balls or no brain. (Either way, you probably need a trip to the doctor.)
Second, I loved the way you bussed your own table. The COMPLETE disregard you had for a person's food left on the table at the time was just... amazingly douchey. I loved the way you just shoved the cup filled with soda du jour off the table with your LA Times, thus spilling said drink all over the sidewalk and the pant cuffs of 3 LARGE males sitting next to you. THAT. WAS. AWESOME.
Third, I loved the way you told them it wasn't your fault as though you did nothing outside the norm. Sir, I assert you should be on Cheaters. You totally reminded me of a typical scene at the end of the show where Joey Grecco busts in on the cheating guy having (crazy) sex with his date and then claims to not know her and then yells at his girlfriend, "Why are you following me, bitch?!" Yeah. You're definitely that guy. (Oh wait, you have to be able to date. Awww, sorry, nerdlet. Moving on...)
Fourth, you ordered a LETTUCE SANDWICH. Swear on a stack of Olay Regenerist products, it was a LETTUCE SANDWICH. And you ate it with a ferociousness I can't explain...
Do us all a favor and get a clue? Kthanksbye.
I eat protein!
PS - The way you hit on that woman who walked by was pretty awesome. Yelling at her. Nice touch. So romantic. And the flapping arm. Really hot.
PPS - My friend and I walked by and did not receive the same response as the (not as pretty) woman did. WTF?! Asshat. We are quality females. But then again, you like lettuce sandwiches...
PP PS - Please don't procreate.
Dear Skinny Jeans,
OHMIGODILOVEYOU! Thank you for waiting for me to come back to you. And thank you for not calling me fat. I was just more body than you could handle at the time, right?
PS - I ate muffin mix with a spoon tonight.
PPS - Please still fit tomorrow.
PP PS - I'm not kidding.
PP PPS - I'm sorta fragile and I'm against vomiting.
PP PPPS - WHAH!
Dear French Music,
I can't get enough of you. I listen to you all the time. All day long even. Edith Piaf is my fave. As is Charles Trenet. I can listen to "Milord" and "Boum" a million times a day. (Seriously. A million. This is not hyperbole.)
However, I have NO idea what any of you are saying. And I am VERY worried that I look like this bopping around my apartment: NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK!!!!! USE HEADPHONES!
I like cheese!