You’ve graced us ESPN viewers with your pretty face & perfect teeth and for that [you believe] we all owe you something. I’m sure if that attendant knew who you were, she’d have made it a more pleasant experience for you. Speaking of that attendant, she must have been the one who actually towed your car…right?
Sometimes I go on binges when motivational quotes are the only thing that will make my world spin. It sounds pathetic, but I know you understand, Pinterest, because for the next 3 weeks after my pity party all you do is show me pretty, well put together quotes. I don’t need them anymore. I get over my funks relatively quickly – we’ve never talked about it… but, now you know.
Thank you for the super cute spout. Thank you for being left over in my friend’s fridge when I need you most. Thank you for understanding my sorrows when my husband thinks I’m bitching.
I typically praise your establishment – before moving to the area, I was more of a Piggly Wiggly kinda gal. Sidnote: 7 years ago – before I moved to Wisconsin, I thought Piggly Wiggly was a made up grocery store for the movies.
I just received notification you’ve been delivered & currently you’re sitting patiently on my front stoop, in a box. I hope you had nice travels and you’re in good spirits because I might have some unpleasant things to say to you.
Gosh, if only you could be a fly on the wall… feasibly, maybe you are? Your murder shouldn’t be plastered all over national news as a form of entertainment & curiosity. Regrettably I inform you that I can’t look away.
This is the year I rapidly learned the value of life. Before we knew it…you were Eight. Today… you’re half way to being able to legally drive a car. Happy Birthday My Love.
DearJustin Ross Harris,
The day your sad story erupted all over the news, I had a conversation with a friend of mine. We discussed how we felt bad for you. We talked about what your wife must be going through. The two of us considered different scenarios that could possibly explain how you might forget your child is in the backseat. Then, the facts started rolling in…
I’m sick of watching you people (yeah…I said it) throw your butts out of your car windows. As I’m watching the little white and/or brown filter bounce on the road ahead of me, I’m fearful it’s going to lodge itself up in my car & in turn – blow me up.
I take back what I said before…I don’t hate you. I do still dislike you – but, I am happy to report that you made some progress today. For starters, my car did that – it started. Beautiful.
I know you’re not on a first name basis with me, but…I am with you.
If it were possible for two men to procreate – I’d imagine you could be the product of Santa Claus & Kenny Rogers. I’m hoping that doesn’t offend you. You’re in much better shape than both of them – which is very obvious as we have already gone over your ponderous muscles.
Your daughter is overweight. That is your fault. Not every obese child’s parents are to blame – sometimes there are other reasons children become overweight. In this instance however, I blame you. Not only does your daughter need to deal with the struggles of being overweight in everyday life, even her own mother cuts her down.
I’m curious…How many accidents have you been in? You must be very wealthy. Do you drop cash for new fancy modes of transportation? Does the dealership (& Auto mechanic) (& traffic cops) know you by name? Do you slow ‘er down in school zones? So many questions…
All Rights Reserved. © 2014-2015 Jennifer Boggs