Since we agreed that despite our perfect personalities for each other, that we will always be horrible as anything more than friends, I’ve rediscovered online dating. Or rather, I’ve started to wonder if an insane asylum is a better choice for how to spend the next few months of my life.
I am consistently fascinated by the average American male and his inability to use the words “your” and “you’re” correctly. This is almost as shocking as “their”, “there” and “they’re” but more common and therefore more ingrained in my psyche. As frustrating as grammatical issues are, they are in no way as frustrating as something such as this: hI BOO. U R hawt. Wanna fuq?
I’m sorry…but was that a language I should have studied in college?
Perhaps I should happily choose to live my life among books rather than among men who would not be sure if they should “stair at me across a crded rum” or “fall down the stares” to get to know me.
The Girl Your Should Acknowledge Is Your Soulmate…asshole
Maybe giving me a desktop Dalek for my birthday was a bad idea. I’ve been using it to torment her all day.
She will not be exterminated.
Me: Want to sign a petition to classify Westboro Baptist Church as a hate group?
Matt: Yes, but I wonder if it has any legal bearing
Me: https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/legally-recognize-westboro-baptist-church-hate-group/DYf3pH2d White house legit enough?
Matt: You should have said that while throwing some sort of case-winning evidence folder onto a large mahogany table with bad ass lawyer folder throwing skills.
Me: Oh, in my head I totally did.
These seem like the would have been your crayons as a child.
I figured out our team slogan for all our future campaigns:
So my peer mentor/life coach/ guiding me though life church person has encouraged me to start a journal. Herein lies the problem; I had journals. Journals sucks. Mine tend to be tear stained and about ten pages long before I get bored and start doing other stuff again. However, my only consistent form of communication seems to be writing my email reports of life and shuffling them into your inbox. So, to appease the gods of writing and self expression, I’m posting our letters. I know when I jokingly told you this earlier tonight you laughed and said “I’m so honored.” Enjoy your brief celebrity now asshole, because pretty soon people are going to be chanting your name. You know, the name you hate more than anything on the planet except maybe your middle name? Don’t worry, that’s sworn to secrecy.