Dear X,

Dear pmann,

Thank you. However, as usual you're 10 weeks behind...well in this case, 2 days. Australia Day was two days ago. Today is the public holiday in lieu because it fell on a Saturday.

You are correct, only American's drink Fosters or throw shrimps on the barbie.

You forgot this famous and unfairly beautiful Australian...

tumblr_lsphvsGVwx1qagbmpo1_500.gif


Love,
Me


I did not forget him. :mad:
 
Dear February,

Please hurry to week three. I'll love you forever and never refer to you as the short month again.

Appreciative,

Pmann
 
dear week,
please be over. i have had enough of you.
sincerely,
exhausted

dear posters on this page of this thread,
thank you for the giggles.
still exhausted but smiling :)
 
Dear Concerned Cloudburst and Puddle-seeking Pmann,

Your words have reached me, much like the commissioner’s signal to the Dark Knight, beamed upon the rolling clouds in a Gotham night sky.

I apologize for being away and out of touch. A week ago work sent me north of 60º to explore mines, severely shiver in isolated communities, and appreciate the spikes in excessive drinking and domestic violence that 18 hours + of darkness, abundance of alcohol, and sweet FA to do in ridiculously sub-zero temperatures can evoke.

I can now place a wee check (on my life-experiences checklist) beside:

1) Witnessing the start of a 1000 mile dog sled race (those silly, silly bastards).

2) Getting two wicked spots of frostbite on my neck while navigating a snowmobile in -49º C weather which, I was later informed by my guide, was not entirely accurate as I am not factoring in windchill, provided by both the wind and my moving “sled”.

An incredibly slow (8 to 10 mins for page load) internet connection - when you could get a connection - kept me from Lit and all it’s goings-ons. I’m back, and I’m sure I have some catching up to do. I will read up as I thaw my extremities by the fire, and try to persuade my testicles to reconvene their presence in their traditional habitat, after being driven off by the sharp bite of extreme cold to the warmer confines of my abdomen.

Having brandy for breakfast,

E


 
Dear Food In My House,

I apologize in advance for the utter destruction and havoc I am about to wreak on you during the Super Bowl. You will be delicious. GET IN MAH BELLY!!!! Despite what you may have read, Hunger is not a Game.

God bless,
Miles
 
Dear new neighbors who moved in upstairs,

You don't have to stomp around your apartment all day...

Thanks,
Chris

Dear Amnesia: The Dark Descent,

You scare the living bejezzus outta me.
See here for more and turn your volume DOWN: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv-OfWvorpw

Thanks,
The Guy Who is Scared to Go Back into the Computer Room.

Dear new neighbors upstairs,

I'm going to pull out the subwoofer with Amnesia on it at 3am if you don't STFU.

Thanks,
Chris

Whew... 3 in one post.
 
Dear Local School District,

It was once made painfully clear to me that my children were valued only for their test scores. In light of recent events, perhaps I should take my little test scores--and the funding you receive for them--elsewhere.
 
Dear you

You are a :rose: like no other. Your quiet ways are the catalyst for smiles and laughter. You bring joy to so many just by simply going about your way.

Thank you
:heart:
 
Dear South Park,

BAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Why don't I watch more often?

Gonna have myself a time!
 
Dear Karma,

Oh well played, well played.
hehehe

Next time you go after someone else though, please try to keep me out of your crosshairs.

I know, I know, collateral damage, and all that. I'm willing to take the hit this time.

Thanks,
Smirking MK
 
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Dear erogenous zones,

Look! I've found the hotspots, Figs 1-9. I love you. Without you, what would a poor boy do?

Me, Counting Out Time.
 
Dear You,

Good effort. I'm too clever to fall for it, though.

Yours,
D.O.C.

P.S. They're looking for you! ;)
 
You're either interested or you're not - just say one way or another and stop wasting my time with all this hot and cold shit.
 
Dear Responsibilities,

Kindly stop interfering with my Lit time. You're seriously compromising my budgeted entertainment time.

Sincerely,
The Master Procrastinator

BCC: School; Work
 
Dear High-School Art Teacher,

I'm glad you teach art and not, say, government.

Sincerely,
Disgruntled Mom
 
Dear Super-Duper Smart Cat,

Thank you, thank you, thank you for pissing on that rug. I absolutely fucking hated that puke-green monstrosity, but in order to keep the peace, I kept my mouth shut. Now I get to haul it out to the dumpster. This is a beautiful turn of events, my dear purr monster.

Trust me when I say that she might hate you right now, but me? I absolutely fucking adore you, and I'll sneak you some fresh tuna as a reward for a job well done.

Kudos,
Your Happy Human
 
Dear Mrs. Grayson,

I write to offer my sincere apologies for my behaviour at your guest house this past weekend. I have been under a degree of marital stress in recent days and my actions reflected a disproportionate overreaction to the discrepancies between your brochure and your fine establishment. My wife has required, I beg her pardon, requested that I write and by doing so I hope to continue our wonderful domestic bliss and not have to worry about the separation of assets.

It was unbecoming of me to describe the lovely retro décor of your reception as akin to "Hitler's bunker" or to cast doubt as to the consciousness of your charming husband. Though your brochure promised a 'lively and enthusiastic' reception, I should not have taken Mr. Grayson's pulse nor enquire as to whether any of the passing guests knew a coroner.

Your guests, particularly young couples, are entitled to enjoy themselves without restriction or condemnation, so it is with regret that I apologise for loudly enquiring as to whether number 12's wife "is as fucked as our chance of sleep tonight". Please pass my sincere apologies to all concerned.

Your 'wonderful home cooked food' was indeed a delight, and I must explain that my mimicking of a guest retching and dry heaving your delightful carrot soup all over your dining area, was a coincidental occurrence of exploring an interest in mime and amateur dramatics. That said, I should not have asked table three if his mother sucked cocks in hell and used a straw to direct the starter at high velocity. For the record, I do not believe your meals require guests to fetch "an old priest and a young priest", as I may have intimated.

Finally, I wholeheartedly apologise for the unfortunate soiling of your invoice on check-out. I accept that this was an entirely revolting and unhygienic act and I do not believe that any change was due, despite my earlier protests. I recognise that faeces does not constitute legal currency and neither does it accurately reflect the standard of your fine guest house.

I dearly hope that this puts the matter to rest, both in your home and mine.

Kind Regards,

spurious
 
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