Happy Humping!
My blog finally grew up a little bit. Calm down, that doesn’t mean I won’t talk about dog farts, dry humping and using as much profanity as possible. It just means this blog now has a PO box, which you can find on the contact page.
After getting my fair share of hate mail lately I decided if someone is going to take the time to write me a hate filled message the least they could do is buy a fucking stamp and mail it. I’d really like a handwritten account of just how horrible I am. It will come in handy each time my mother tires to remind me that she raised a sweet and caring daughter. I can hand her the book and instantly prove her wrong.
While I was at the post office in line I saw a man that looked vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place him. And then it hit me: if a man looks familiar chances of me making out with him at some point in my life is 100%. Not just any make-out session either, this particular time involved dry humping. NOT BY MY CHOICE! I was so disgusted that I had no choice but to block his name from my mind and forget about his very existence.
I walked out to my car without saying hello. NOT because I’m rude, but because I knew I’d accidentally say “Happy Dry Humping” instead of “Happy Holidays.” So really I”m pretty thoughtful. Maybe there’s no need for handwritten hate mail after all!
Comments
I used to hate running into old boyfriends–which happened pretty often b/c I lived in a small town. So, I moved 1/2 way across the counrtry. Solved that problem!
Ex’s just suck. Period.
Man, I’ve never gotten hate mail. You are so lucky.
Oh, Levi-Lov’in. I’d dry hump you any day.
I hope you’re having an amazing season. I wish I could come give you holiday hugs —and a dry hump. (holiday dry humps are just like normal, every-day dry humps, but done in rhythm with “jingle bells” ooh and involve gliter, popcornballs and letters to santa)
Loving you.
Jeffery
People who take the time to send hate mail are loo-hoo-zer-hers.
Finally. I have a place to send all those mean letters I’ve been writing you!
Dry humping… Oh how I remember the bruised pelvis bone well!
I am so excited for you, getting a P.O. Box! I wish I had a reason to get a P.O. Box! Imagine…a WHOLE BOX for your mail. Your very own mailb….ooooooooh.
Nevermind, I guess I kinda have one of those (free ones) already.
Is that sperm in the corner I see?
You get HATE MAIL?? Who does that? Ridiculous.
ooooooh fancy grown up things =o)