Get your own
 diary at! contact me older entries

9:13 p.m. - 2005-09-26
Laundry and Lyrics and Letters
Dear Mother Nature:

I am sorry I said that you were an evil bitch. Thank you for not taking that personally and leaving my family the hell alone.


Dear Producers of the Biggest Loser:

What the hell have you done to my favorite show? This season, we don't get to know the characters, we don't see enough of the working out, and we are seeing way too much of Jillian, the evil whore. Plus, you make it totally obvious that this was all taped months ago...last season, there was more suspense. I mean, yeah, you showed the before and afters, but it just was better, or something.

Plus, you have conveniently made it so that, yet again, a boy will win. The guys you chose are all way farther from their goal weight than the girls. Maybe you should do an all-male and all-female one, so the competition will be more fair...or try to pick contestants that all have about the same amount of weight to lose.

Quit making me lose faith in reality TV.


Dear Laundry Gods:

Why is it that, whenever BFRB and I go to the laundromat, it's like we've stepped into some bizarre alternate parallel universe? For real. First, it's just the laundromat itself that's wack. Then, it's the things we see driving in the car. Then it's back to the Laundry Nazi again. But things keep getting worse, and then the strange crap is everywhere we go.

This time, it's the couple there folding their laundry. This couple is a 40-something, fairly well dressed guy (slacks, polo shirt, Blackberry, etc.). Granted, his hair was a little too styled, and the shirt was a rather violent pastel, but overall? Not horrible. The chick scared me. She was probably in the same age-range. She, however, had not attended the school of good taste. Her skirt was short, and had little ribbony-ties up one side. Granted, her figure was not bad...but the skirt was just short enough to showcase the thigh cellulite. Four more inches, and you never would have known. Her shirt was way tight. Her makeup was pancaked, but not enough to cover the pockmarks. The eyeliner...was taking over her face. And she was wearing little barbie-like shoes. To do LAUNDRY. Do you hear me, laundry gods? Why is it that someone would wear an outfit like this to WASH THEIR CLOTHES? Even if their clothes are mostly see through and violently purple?

I'm so confused. What sort of sacrifices must we offer upon your altar in order that we might simply put our clothing in the washer and dryer, fold it, and go home, without feeling like we are no longer on our home planet?


Dear Target:

I have come to expect a lack of selection in paper products from the Evil Empire. But you. You have always been there, with your nice, small, normal, 4 double-roll packs of Charmin. You have always offered single-serving paper towels and kleenex.

Not anymore.

Some people live in studio apartments. They need their closets for things like clothes and a variety of crap that they cannot possibly throw away. They do not have room for the economy-size 64-roll pack of toilet paper and 12-pack of paper towels. Please, don't turn into those other know, the ones that rhyme with Small-Fart.


Dear Annoying Client:

I realize that many injustices have been perpetrated upon you. But really, if you don't shut your pie-hole and answer only the questions posed to one is going to care. You will annoy the jury as much as you annoy your attorneys and their staff. Don't make me get out the duct tape. It's not a flattering look.


Dear Designer of the Parking Garage:

I see, from the decorative placard on the front of the building, that you were built in 1946. If I recall, cars were very square then, and they didn't have the smooth handling and tight corners that they feature now.

Clearly, you didn't worry about that too much, seeing as how you designed some ramps that have big cement walls on both sides and slope upward at almost 90 while turning at the same angle.

If I make it through the winter without crunching the front end of my car, it will be a miracle.


Dear Mr. Tag-O-Rific:

I did your survey in this entry...but I'll do it again, because I'm nice like that.

What you do is answer the following questions, using only song titles from one artist. In this case, we'll use Jack Johnson.

Are you female or male? Belle
Describe yourself. Inaudible Melodies
How do some people feel about you? Flake
How do you feel about yourself? Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
Describe your ex-girlfriend/boyfriend. Situations
Describe your current crush. Crying Shame
Describe where you want to be. Dreams Be Dreams
Describe how you live. Wasting Time
Describe how you love. Better Together
Share a few words of wisdom: Staple It Together


Dear Music Fans:

Here's a loopy little contest. I don't know what you win yet. It will either be a CD, or some fun 80's buttons, or maybe my cat Maggie if she doesn't quit being obnoxious.

Anyway, the following are song lyrics. Identify title and artist. NO GOOGLING. Submit your answers via e-mail, and the person who gets the most right will receive props in my diary and whatever fabulous prize I can find.

1. "I spent 4 years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper and I was free."
2. "I was the last one you thought you'd see there."
3. "They tell me I was born there, but I really don't remember."
4. "Birthday party cheesecake jellybean boom!"
5. "You're so beautiful, a beautiful fucked-up man."
6. "When masturbation's lost its fun, you're fucking breaking."
7. "Who's got their claws in you my friend?"
8. "All the kids at school, they were wishing they were me that night."
9. "That hypocrite smokes two packs a day."
10. "But you know that I'll forgive you just this once, twice, forever..."

Contest closes on Friday, September 30th at 12:00 noon, central time. The winner will be announced Friday afternoon.




previous - next

about me - read my profile! read other Diar
yLand diaries! recommend my diary to a friend! Get
 your own fun + free diary at!