Dear Leg thief,
I have no idea who you are. But next time you decide to steal my legs and run a marathon with them in my sleep how about you stop (hammertime!) and use your own damn legs! I really don't appreciate waking up in the morning feeling like I climbed the Empire State Building stairs in the night. I now can't do anything requiring the use of my thighs as the feel like jelly.Very sore jelly.
Cheers,
Jepha's thigh muscles.
Dear Mr Mallows
Please stop tasting so damn good. You're sugary delciously mushy mallow goodness is going straight to my gut. My pudginess does not need any help existing, it's doing very well on its own.I miss my size 9 jeans (Americans that's about size 4 or 6.)
Thanks.
Jepha's tastebuds and belly.
Dear piece of ribbon thast fell off my bra last night,
How the hell did you manage to stay attached to my boob AFTER I removed my bra and threw it in the washing pile? I shat myself 3 times over when I discovered you because I thought you were a daddy long leg spider!
How was I to know you were just a piece of decoration that fell of my skin coloured bra?
You suck.
Seriously.
Dear Blogger,
Why on earth do you assume that I want to type from the center of the page after inserting a picture? Did it not occur to you that perhaps the act of inserting a picture did not mean I wanted to change the alignment of my text?Perhaps this act simply is an attempt to attach a comical picture to break the lines of otherwise unattractive text?
Sort your shit Blogger, sort it.Or else.
Or else the text bunnies will come for you in the night and eat your thumbs so you can't send any txt messages.Then you'll be forever cursed with the inability to txt or open jars or certain doorhandles. You'll never be able to join the cool kids playing pea-knuckle. These consequences can be avoided Blogger, it's your choice.
Yours textually,
Jepha.
Dear Bed,
You are amazing. Don't change a thing.
Actually, strike that, it would be cool if you changed your sheets every couple of weeks. Otherwise you might get smelly. Nobody wants that.
Yours with warm squishy love,
Jepha
Dear Dressing Gown Sleeves,
Why are you so intrusive? I seriously can't take you anywhere. I either have to sacrifice my ability to have warm arms in order to accomplish anything requiring the use of my hands or just sit there like a bloody muppet and not do anything. Neither of these are ideal outcomes. Is it really necessary for you to be so large? I only have very tiny arms so would it not be sensible for there to be versions of you with skinny arms so that you don't envelope everything in your path each time I reach for stuff?
Something to think about.
Dear Readers,
don't hate me for stealing Allie's awesome ideas. I'm on mid term break and have therefor retired my brain until September
Muchos Gracias.
ps here's a picture to bribe your silence
*UPDATE*
Dear Nana,
Thank you for the awesome cookie you brought home for me and I'm sorry his gum drop nose fell off before I could snap this picture. You are awesome Nana. We like you, you can stay.
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