I was going to do a thing that would be awesome, but I don’t have the time or minimal skill to make it happen

That's right. I was going to borrow the Hyperbole and a Half method of blogging, and illustrate a story for you about the time I was in afterschool care and forced to eat two pieces of pizza that were this big:

so that I could play in the Chuck E Cheese balls. It all culminated in a puking near miss at a laundromat and a permanent fear of ever wearing socks in the house again. Also a permanent fear of pizza.

Like I said, though, no time. Less skill.

So. In a bid to further borrow from Hyperbole and a Half, in an homage, a terrorist fist bump, a kiss on the cheek to the hilarity that is Allie and her blog of sheer spectacularness, I am going to write some short letters to inanimate objects. Usually, my letters are long and full of vulgarity, so we'll see how this works.


Dear Ike-a-saurus's toenail,

Why do you have to be so gross? Can't you cover his whole toe and not be green? Having a troll toe is not what a baby needs. In case you wondering.

Thank you for your attention to this matter,



Dear Persimmon That Is Biodegrading On My Kitchen Counter,

Can you stop doing that?




Dear Coffee Mug,

Aren't you aware that Darjeeling tea is the Champagne of teas? Then why do you make it taste ass-y? I am pretty sure that Darjeeling tea is not the screw-on-lid "champagne" of teas, and yet, you are fouling it up.

I blame you and not the fact that I steeped the bag too long. Everything is the mug's fault.

Always the mug's fault,



Dear My Lower Back,

You suck so much that you suck all of the suck out of sucking things.

Feel free to blame the coffee mug.

up yours,



Dear 4:45 pm,

Why do you always make my kids think it's dinner time? 4:45 pm is not dinner time. It is mommy facebook time and also mommy sit in a chair and try not to cry time.




Dear Letter t,

Why do you have to be so close to the letter r?

Pain in my fucking ass, t. Seriously.




Dear Butternut Squash,

Why do you have to taste like barf? I really want to like you and eat you and be healthy and have a smaller ass. But you will not comply. Man, why do you have to be that way.

Why can't you taste like something that makes my ass big?




Dear Third Grade Word Problems,

Why do you have to be shouted at me while I'm trying to blog? You were irritating in third grade and you are more irritating now. If Thomas has 18 thank you letters and only 9 stamps then Thomas must live in a parallel fucking universe because no sane mom would invite 18 third graders to her house for a party.

Obviously sane,



Dear Baby Wipes,

When have you ever been toys?

Answer: Never. Stop being so beguiling to the baby.

giving you a warning look,



Dear water hose,

Why can't you stop being an asshole?

your kinks make me stabby,



Dear The Phrase "your kinks make me stabby,"

I love you long time.

your friend and omnipotent creator,




3 thoughts on “I was going to do a thing that would be awesome, but I don’t have the time or minimal skill to make it happen

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