Dear Great China,

People might not know who you are, but I do. You make a dog toy that my dog just loves. We call it the Lobstie, as seen here:

Now, word on the street is that you're no longer making Lobstie, and I have to tell you the utter pit of panic and despair I fell into when I heard this. I ordered 10 lobsties that very same day!

I don't think Ripley can live without his Lobstie. Lobstie is the goldfish that parents buy little kids when the old goldfish dies. Lobstie was the highlight of Christmas morning. He is a constant, and I can't have Ripley's little dog-heart broken. I can't tell him the truth about Lobstie.

Please continue to make Lobstie. Forever.

Love,
H & Ripley

Dear Hot Topic,

Stop Destroying Lives.


That is all.

Dear Motivation,

Where the hell were you yesterday? We hung out all morning, having a good time getting shit done, and you just up and quit on me at around 3pm. That wasn't cool. You left me hanging with all that other stuff I had to do, and you know what, Motivation, it didn't get done. I was so sad you left I put on my jammies and said "To hell with it!" and watched movies for the rest of the night. This seems to be a pattern with you.

Well, I've had it. As of today you are no longer my BFF. I am unfriending you on facebook and deleting you from my cellphone. I want your half of the FRIENDS 4 EVER heart necklace back. I bought it to give to my BFF and that isn't you. I'm giving it to Sloth. My New BFF. Sloth watches movies with me and likes to just hang out and do nothing all day. Boy am I glad I have a friend like that just in time for sunday!

Your No-longer-BFF,
H

Dear Blog,

It's been a while. How have you been? I hope our non-existant readers are treating you well. Anywho, it has been quite a bit since my last entry and I have a ton of mini-letters pent up, like this one:

Dear Face,

How is it possible that your skin be dry and have a greezy zit at the same time?!

Please teach me to multitask.

Love,
Self.

Anywho, I promise to write in you more often dearest blog. I have stuff to say about stuff and it is only right that you be the vehicle I use to say it. That and I want to record how witty I am for all eternity.

Love,
H

P.S. Remind me to tell you about my fantabulous new 80s haircut.

Dear eHarmony Personality Test,

Usually every year about this time I like to take your personality test. You see, ever since I started taking that test I've been told that I am unmatchable and nobody likes me and I smell (ok I made that up), so look elsewhere!


Boy was I in for a shock when I wasn't told to go shit in a hat this year! This means one of two things:

1) I am becoming more like everyone else (please flying spaghetti monster, let this not be).
or
2) People are becoming more like me, to which I childishly say Stop copying me!

I did, however, get a good laugh at my personality profile. Lets take a peek at some of the highlights:

Agreeableness: Usually Taking Care of Yourself
Words to describe you: Perceptive, Realistic, Demanding, Down-to-Earth, Hardnosed, Judgmental, Pragmatic, Skeptical

Apparently I am Selfish and an Asshole. Well, you have me pegged here eHarmony. I am a jerk. At least I can admit it on a questionaire. I am a little curious as to who you would match a selfish jerk with though... another selfish jerk or a doormat?

Openness: Curious
Words that describe you: Original, Inventive, Thinker, Eccentric, Avant-Garde, Out-of-Touch, Unique

Thanks! I think.... I'm not sure that those are all complimets though. could you clear that one up please, eHarmony.

Emotional Stability: Responsive
Words that describe you: Open, Too Sensitive, Candid, Unguarded

Responsive is just polite for bat-shit crazy. Watch out for this one boys, if you do something she doesn't like she'll getcha! Or cry a lot. Either one sucks.


Well, that's about it. Oh, you also told me I was "flexible" when it came to attending to my responsibilities (read as probably won't complete them). That's a true story though.

Anywho, this is boring now and Lost is on.

Laters,
Me

Dear The Weekend,

Why must you be so short? Is it just me or does anyone else think your work to weekend ratio is kinda lopsided? You toy with us with the exciting prospect of 2 days in a row to relax, but in reality they are really 2 days to catch up on chores, errands, and funtime acitvites that actually make me more tired.

In summation, Weekend you are not long enough. I need a weekend from my weekend.

Mixed Emotionally Yours,
Me

Dear Wendy,

Where the hell do you get off?! $7 for a shit-burger. For shame. I'll have you know I can get an even shittier burger from BK for $2 less. And I did. So there.

Hate,
Me

So my friend and I went on a trip while on a trip to the mall. The crass consumerism just kind of hits you in the face when your senses are on high alert like that. The smells, sounds, colors.... yuck. just yuck.

We sat in the food court over Manchu wok pretty much just passing judgment on everyone and everything. Then we laughed so hard we cried when mall staff tried to make an announcement but it was drowned out by the very same sensory overload they strived to create. And by that I mean do we really need 10 plasma screen tvs in the food court? Since when did we need a tv around every corner to distract us from our own though process?

In the meantime, I'll bet that announcement was pretty important. Oh wells.

From there we decided that the mall needed a coffin store and realized that CVS could double as an advent calendar.

Then..... Mischievous Cheeseburger Fun Quest. Yes, it was as awesome as it sounds. That was when we realized that wendy's doesn't actually place any real value on their other menu items and BK kicks all y’alls asses up and down the street. Especially when you're trying to get your boyfriend the best cheeseburger possible for $5. Enter the Quadruple stacker. You can't even say it without giggling and that's what makes it great.

So we emerged victorious from our quest with cheeseburger in tow, reminisced about MC Kids The Terrible Nintendo Game (not the official title, but it should be), and watched Wall-E.

In summary: Humanity is doomed, but at least I have a cupcake in a cup.

Fisticup Revisited

So apparently everyone everywhere has sold out of the fisticup mug.

Me + Coffee - Fisticup = Kinda Sad.

Dear Sunsilk Winter Collection Shampoo,

I got you in my stocking for christmas, and at first I thought "Oh good. More shampoo." It wasn't an overly excited feeling, but it was one of appreciation and gratitude.

Then I got to try you....

Marry Me Sunsilk Winter Shampoo. The way you moisturize my hair, the way you fight static electricity, but mostly the way you smell. It's the same sensation in the back of my nose that I get when it's ultra cold and snowing, except I'm in my nice warm shower.


I am in love with you. I just though you should know.

<3
Holly

Dear Fisticup,

HOW DO I NOT OWN YOU?!

I just wanted to let you know that someday I will be drinking coffee out of your face-smashing amazingness. I can only imagine that the deathgrip you can get on this mug makes the coffee taste better.

A Fan Forever,
Holly

Ok, So This Isn't a Letter...

I am having a good day. Just thought you all should know. First, I got work done. Bonus. Also, I wrote an open letter to a guy that keeps posting in the men seeking women section of CL. You can read it here. I would just like to announce that I crack me up sometimes. Lolz @ racecar bed.

Also, I saw Lost (lawst if you're from bawston). And OH EM EFFING JEE!!! I will be glued to my TV on tuesday nights. My theory is a demi-god pissing contest on spaceship island. Or it's all taking place in Hurley's crazy headspace. Whatevs.

Mini Open Letter!

Dear Boyfriend,

Today we had a textversation that went like so:

Me: What time are you getting out of work?
You: 8:30 why are you asking? Cheating?
Me: Yeah. Cheating. Or grocery shopping. They're basically the same.

I would just like to tell you that if you keep it up, I'm going to cheat on you at the grocery store so we can both be right. So knock off your shit.

<3
Me



Soon I will get to go home from work and pet my dogs. But not before I brave the hell that we call BJs Wholesale Club. Perverse american consumerism here I come! Pray for my safe return.

Love,
Holly