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- Observational Humor
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The non-sequitur post from hell?
Dish from my e-stalkers…
This, from Rylee: My dad said mabey to the sleepover but u never no a mabey is a baby to grow up to be a yes!!!
Aside from the misspellings, among other things, I’m obsessed with the comment maybe is a baby to grow up to be a yes. Does this scream pregnancy pact, Lifetime Television for women to anyone else or is it just me?
Another email from Rylee: Say hi to Josie and her dog noobie!
The dog has to be adopted; it simply can’t be a puppy. Otherwise, naming shim Noobie, lacks irony, and is misspelled. Although misspellings are common with Rylee, I take umbrage with Noobie, for some reason.
Rylee’s final email from last week: Hey Katie I miss you sooooooo much even thow I get to see you 5 times a week for practicly 1 whole year! IÂ think that is more times than I get to see Josie and that’s allot because after for the grade we still have a nother whole year to gow because we still have fith grade! And your not moving because you just did! Love, lol baybay – wait I don’t think that makes since
For once, Rylee is correct!
Reasoning with her at this point in our e-stalking relationship is moot. Though, I appreciate her commitment to weekly e-stalkage. Fortunately, she doesn’t have my mailing address.
Ryleee feels so very magazine-cut-outs-of-letters-sent-on-pink-paper-sprayed-with-Anais-Anais perfume. Right?! Having my olfactory’s desecrated at this stage in our relationship is a boundary I’m not ready to travel with her.
New Day Nazarene Church invited me to an Easter service with a FREE (all caps) continental breakfast. Shouldn’t the fear of God be enough?
Someone kindly ordered a Tommy Bahama – Swimsuit, Palm Print Halter On, with my email address. I question the on. Isn’t that redundant?
A few weeks ago…
Once every 6 months, my sister and I have dinner with Butter. We made a pact never to go without each other. Butter is an obstinate handful. We coined her Butter because she does butter shooters out of ramekins, in public. Call me crazy, but shouldn’t some food addictions remain in the closet?
Imagine, if you will, a 35-year-old, opinionated, uneducated, racist, homophobic, republican sundial. Her legs, stumps really, buckling from encumbering poundage. Wearing a fluorescent green mini dress, drag-queen hosiery scrunching around her knees and beige walking shoes, very Florida-shuffle-board-at-the-clubhouse. She is the authority on everything. For reals!
Dinner was, as you can imagine, hell. I wanted to spit twice and die. Butter’s boyfriend, coined FREAKO, is a girl’s dream come true. He’s a gaming addict, still married, doesn’t work and lives with his mother. He’s never met a fingernail clipper, much less a cleaner. In fact, his French Tips are the contents of eons old jet black dirt. Hot, right?! He’s a miserable son of a bitch. She is his massive ass in shining armor. In reciprocity, he gifted her with multiple STD’s. What a guy.
Present day
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Now, see, I’m sorry that “South Park” already has “Butters,” because that should be her name. They do sound like a couple made in Heaven…oh, wait, I mean the “Heaven” that Falwell thought he was going to.