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Dear Asshole in the red Toyota Landcruiser,

Putting a sticker on your vehicle that reads: “I think it was a mistake to give women the right to vote,” just shows what a prick you really are. Also, smoking a cigar while driving at 8:30 AM doesn’t help your image.

I’m trying to be more careful with my karma, but will risk it when I say, “I hope you burn in hell.”

Regards,
Sarah

me: Is it possible to feel too fat for the gym?

marky: I’m right there with ya. I feel more like doing whatever is opposite of the gym. Which, I guess, is what I am doing right now.

Am I the only childless person tired of hearing about toy recalls? Lead paint? Big freaking deal, who hasn’t ingested a little lead paint in their life? At least with the Aqua-Dot recall it’s for a good reason: GHB is meant for frat parties, NOT children.

Even the Easy-Bake Oven has been recalled, because of a “burn hazard.” No shit! While it is an oven powered by a light bulb, it’s still hot. How else do you overcook those little cakes? And recalling Dunkin’ Donuts glow sticks because kids are choking on the lanyard? Shouldn’t the company be more concerned with the fact kids may eat them? I, for one, put nearly anything with the DD logo in my mouth. And I’m an adult. Ohhh, and another favorite was the recall for Gymboree Pirate Swords because they break and are sharp. Hmmm, a sword that’s sharp? Weird.

I remember as a child the dangerous toys were the best kind, like those giant metal Tonka Trucks. Now those could cause some damage when thrown directly at a younger brother (Sorry Ben!). Long gone are the days of natural selection.

I’m not saying I don’t want your kids to be safe, unless you are the parent of the child who grabbed my ass at the library–in that case just teach your kid some manners: like saying thank you after grabbing the hottest ass in sight, or teaching him to buy me a drink first!

What I’m trying to say is if my brother, Ben, can survive childhood anyone can! Let your kid be a kid and learn their lesson that light bulbs are hot. A childhood just isn’t a childhood without an Easy-Bake Oven.

I voted. I considered posting another picture of my sweater voting like I did last time, but decided not to bore you with something I’d done before.

Besides the picture looks almost exactly the same, except my sweater is white this time and I have two brown “I Voted” stickers instead of one. Which really just made my sweater look like it was hosting two giant brown nipples. Which it’s not.

After voting I handed the electronic card back to the woman and asked if she could see if my brother had remembered to vote. She looked, and he hadn’t. She stuck a second sticker on my sweater and said, “When you see your brother today tell him you have his sticker and won’t release it until he’s voted.” I laughed and then walked through the school out the front door, proudly showing my nipple votes to the small children milling about.

I will not be showing Ben his sticker. I’m sure the woman would understand.

Walking to the pub last night for Family Home Evening I saw this painted on the sidewalk: I love watching for sidewalk art so it was a good find, but the best part was when I noticed the drug free sign on the school three feet away! The laughter kept Maddie and I warm the remainder of the way. Which was good since I forgot proper winter attire.

“A Post-it does not cure chlamydia.”

I have the Sox game playing in the background while I’m writing a paper, but I don’t need to pay attention because Aimee made cookies. I did my part and ate six yesterday, so it’s a guaranteed win!

Girl’s Night Out last night led us to Red Rock for burgers and beer and then to Spoon Me for frozen yogurt. I’m usually anti anything that could be a venue for Mormon dating, but with the promise of a healthy ice cream alternative my ass and I were game.

Maddie was feeling bitter about eating cold food in the cold, but settled down once Hannah spooned her in the bathroom.

As for me? I got my spooning later on in the evening. And it was good.

I was walking Daisy through the Avenues a few days ago, when she stopped walking and started sniffing around some bushes in front of an apartment complex. Trying to change the music on my iPod I was distracted and wasn’t paying attention to her like I should’ve been—especially since she wasn’t on a leash. I looked up and Daisy was on the front steps of the building. A woman who was walking out turned to me and said, “Are you trying to get into the man?” It was then I noticed the sign and replied, “Umm, isn’t it usually the other way around?” She scowled at me and walked away. She may not have found my comment amusing, but that didn’t stop me from giggling the entire way home.

So many things in life make my insides curl: whipped cream, midget porn, blonde’s who insist on coloring the bottom layer of their hair black, watching Ben eat a pastrami burger while wearing pleated khaki pants, and now this bathroom graffiti.