Tuesday, January 19, 2010

My Dear Letters

Nothing much to report so I'll just do My Dear Letters today.

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Dear Tom Hanks,

Could you please do a romantic comedy like you did in Sleepless in Seattle and You’ve Got Mail? I get that you want to branch out but your latest movie where you searched for angels or was it demons or maybe it was both did not catch my interest. So please. Another romantic comedy.

Signed,
A Just-Want-A-Regular-Chick-Flick-Where-Characters-Don’t-Walk-Into-A-Wall-For-Laughs,
Amber

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Dear Bear Gryllis (from Man VS Wild),

Thank you for spoiling my appetite by drinking the water from some creature’s poop. I mean, do you really have to do it? I think explaining it is enough. I really don’t need to see you drink the poop. I mean, dear gracious. On the bright side, I think I know how to stop myself from eating that sixth Reeses Peanut Butter Cup of the day: by watching your show. So all the women out there dieting? Watch Man VS Wild. You’ll lose your appetite at least once during the program, I guarantee it.

Signed,
A Grossed-Out,
Amber

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Dear Tommy,

I don’t care what your friends say. Asking me if I liked your ass was NOT appropriate. What kind of people are you hanging out with, anyway? Why are you all sitting around and talking about your butts? I’m confused. And appalled.

Signed,
A-They-Grow-Up-So-Fast-Don't-They?
Amber

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Dear Person on Half.com Who I Tried To Buy The Lovely Bones From,

Um, here’s an idea. Make sure you HAVE the book before listing it for sale. I don’t appreciate getting a e-mail saying, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the book.” So repeat after me: find your items. THEN list. Find your items. THEN LIST!

Signed,
I-Just-Want-To-Compare-The-Book-To-The-Movie,
Amber

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Dear Jay Leno,

I think it’s time for you to retire. It’s Conan’s turn now. Conan is more interesting to look at—I can never tell if he’s had plastic surgery or not. His face looks all plasticy and shiny. And I don’t know what’s up with his hair either. When I look at you Jay, all I think is, “Big chin.” So please. Retire and let Conan keep his time slot. Thanks.

Signed,
A-Gal-On-Team-Conan,
Amber

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Dear People On The Forum I Write At Who Claim They’ve NEVER Farted In Front Of Their Husbands,

Are you human? Seriously? Repeat after me: farting is okay. And you don’t have to call farts cutesy things either. It’s called farting, not popped out a fluffy. That reminds me of a puppy. Do you fart out a puppy? One would hope not.

Signed,
A-Woman-Who-Openly-Farts-In-Front-Of-Her-Husband,
Amber

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Dear Lost,

I can’t wait for you to return though reports are saying that people are going to be confused. Not trying to be rude here but I’m confused 96% of the time watching your show. Thankfully I enjoy it enough that I don’t mind not fully comprehending why a giant foot statue was in the middle of the island or how there are two Lockes.

Signed,
An-All-Prepared-To-Be-Confused,
Amber

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Dear Tom,

Seriously, I’ll get sexier underwear when you start putting yours in the laundry basket. ‘K?

Signed,
A-Refusing-To-Pick-Up-Laundry-From-The-Floor,
Amber

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Dear Annoying Neighborhood Kid,

Please stop walking into my house without knocking. It’s rude. I know you were confused when I went, “Woah, Salahi wanna be, you weren’t invited, therefore you must leave.” The Salahi’s, in case you weren’t sure, are the people who got into the White House. UNINVITED.

Signed,
A-KNOCK-FIRST,
Amber

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Dear Natalie,

Thanks for reminding me why we DON’T HAVE NICE THINGS!



Signed,
An-Irritated-And-Foolish-For-Leaving-Child-Alone-With-Ranch,
Amber

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