When you wake up later today and discover a big red mark on the underside of your arm? You need to know that I did that. You also need to know that I am not sorry I did that. Not even a little bit.
For, darling, when it is 2am and I am attempting to sleep and you decide for some reason that my FACE is your pillow? You are lucky I didn't stab you.
Also? My head? Is not a place to lay your arm. It is not a shelf. It is MY HEAD.
Thus? After you continued to try to use my face as your pillow and my head as your armshelf, even after I told you THAT'S MY FACE and THAT'S MY HEAD several times? I had to take matters into my own hands. Which is why I pinched you really, really hard on that very sensitive spot right near your armpit. It was just to make you stop it. And it worked. You rolled away, pulled the cover over your head, and began to snore like a defective buzzsaw once again.
So. There you go. This is marriage, day 2230.
Love you buttface,
Dear all you nice people,
I have stuff to give away to you. Including this, which is new and you might really want if you have a pre-teen child running about.
It's free y'all. You can win it. Seriously. I'll just give it to you. It's nice stuff. Go there. Or whatever.
Okay thanks bye!
Dear bitchface who pulled out in front of me yesterday when I was attempting to pick my children up from school,
Listen hon, I know it's like ULTRA IMPORTANT for you to get...wherever it is that you have to be, but we are in a PARKING LOT. A parking lot RESPLENDENT WITH CHILDREN. I'm sure you don't know what resplendent means, but basically? There's a lot of kids there. So stop being a hosebag whore. Where you are going is not important enough to mow down other people especially those that I believe are our future. I promise.
Also sugar, there are TWO lanes. One goes ONE direction and the other goes the OTHER direction. DO NOT DRIVE STRADDLING BOTH LANES thereby blocking everyone behind you until your stupid ass decides where you want to go. If you don't know where you are going? Stay home until you figure it out.
Dear my butt,
Dear John Edwards,
Have you choked on a bag of dicks yet?
If not, get on that. You need something to do other than fathering children with people who aren't your CANCER-STRICKEN WIFE.
PS: Don't really bite me.
Dear book that really should be in the editing stages by now and is still unfinished because the stupid author can't make up her mind about how much she really wants her dad to know,
GAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHHAAHAHAHA!!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!
Dear Boy and Girl Children,
It is really almost painfully sad how fast you are growing up. And there is nothing I can do about it.
Love you so much,
To all the moms having a hard day,
You only get them for a little while.
It doesn't seem like it today, but someday? You will miss this. Even the tears.