Thursday, October 20, 2005

Letters for October 20, 2005

Dear Jennifer,
Thanks for inviting me, my sister and my mom to your mature and grown up Tastefully Simple party. Sorry I momentarily made the event less classy when the salesgirl gave out a sample of that hot butter toffee drink, and I yelled out, "Can I get some rum up in here?" I know that the only ones laughing were Michelle, Diane and I. Coincidentally (or maybe not) I also observed that we were the only ones there that didn't have kids. Oh and sorry for the Amaretto/pound cake jokes that came later. I think maybe I have a problem where if you hand me food, I automatically try to match it up with a type of alcohol.

Dear cashier guy at the grocery store,
Ah-I see you went with the 1-item-per-bag approach to bagging my groceries. The "1-per" if you will. I know that a brick of cream cheese weighs roughly 3 metric tons, but I bet you could still fit in that yogurt that you just put in a bag by itself. At least it's only taking the entire night for me to check out. I can't wait to get home and unload 4700 bags from my trunk. Oh by the way you're a moron, and I am going to rip out your giant fake diamond earring and shove it up your left nostril.

Dear little kid from "Finding Neverland",
You might be the cutest kid in the entire universe. I want to put you in my pocket.

Dear Johnny Depp,
You are hot. I want to put you in my pants. I mean pocket.

7 comments:

BEVIS said...

Dear Sarah,

Hilarious! I wanna link you, but I know that might be pushing things so early in our relationship.

Hang on, what the hell? There's no relationship here! I've just been kinda stalking you ever since Adam showed me how funny you are, way back in the mid-80s. No, that was Teen Wolf. I guess it must have been just yesterday, then. My, how time flies when you're sitting at your computer, refreshing the same blog every thirty seconds and no updates are appearing.

Thankfully, you eventually posted these four letters, for which I am eternally grateful. OK, 'eternally' might be pushing it a bit. But very grateful. (Quite? A little? What's good for you?)

Well, ta-ta, dear. Speaking of which, I look forward to seeing the pics you post of yourself, as per Min Pin Momma's demand from the other day. Or not.

And now that I've said that, I'll never heard from you, ever.

Fair enough, too. I'm weird and kinda scary. Also, I yell my name at people. It's true, watch:

BEVIS

Mon said...

Hey, d'ya have any of that beer bread at your tastefully simple party? If so, they were just asking for it! Thats good shit! lol

Oh, that girl. said...

The baggers at the base grocery store work for tips only, so they bag your stuff EXCELLENTLY! Okay that sounded dirty. And not only to they bag it good (baby), but they put it in your car for you too! Its well worth the 2 or 3$ tip.

Oh, that girl. said...

OH and its really tastefully simples fault, because they started it with the Beer Bread, damn that shit it good.

Sarah said...

Bevis, it is okay if you want to link to me. I'm really slutty so it doesn't bother me that it's so soon in our relationship. Oh and yes we do have a relationship. Don't kid yourself. It started when you mentioned Teen Wolf. Well played. Min Pin is totally trying to see a pic of my boobs. I can't blame her. Maybe someday I will oblige. As I told Adam (who is DEFINITELY trying to score-and will succeed), I will post another pic of me with a bag on my head come January. That is almost as hot as a picture of my boobs.

Mon and Min Pin, yes there was beer bread, and I ate the shit out of it. And I bought some obviously.

Oliviasmommi said...

Sarah,
I have been reading your blog for a short time now and I have refrained from leaving you a comment thus far, but I must say, you truly are hilarious.

I feel as though I owe Amy an enormous debt of gratitude for sharing your blog address with me.

You have gained another fan down here in Mayberry AKA Chillicothe.

Anonymous said...

Sarah! Shame on you! Your parents read this blog. You shouldn't talk about Johnny Depp in your pants! Now a little George Clooney in your pants, I mean pocket, that is different. -Steph