We’ve been together for quite a while now, you and I. And, we’ve
been very happy. We have, right? I visit you regularly, I coo lovingly at all
the amazing items you possess, I tell all my friends how wonderful you are. So,
Darling, please tell me why you have started screwing up my orders. Why? Trust
is imperative in a relationship, and, without it, I fear that we are doomed.
I’m going to give you another chance, Prime, and I hope that you won’t fail me;
it’s true what they say: First time, shame on you; second time, shame on me.
The part you never hear? Screw me over a third time and I’ll cut you. Not even
kidding.
Kisses! Amazon Lover
Dear New Year’s Resolutionist,
Wow! Almost two months in and you’re still coming to the
gym! That’s admirable! I hope you are feeling great about your decision to
focus on your health, and, that you are starting to see the results that you
were hoping for. One small thing, though: do you think you could maybe follow
the general rules of etiquette posted on the gym walls? Like, would it be too
much to ask that you actually use the handy-dandy Clorox wipes-located
strategically throughout the gym-to, you know, clean off the machines upon which you
just showered bodily fluids? I, for one, would appreciate not being unintentionally exposed to your secretions.
Thanks! Your Friend in Physical Health
Dear Boomer Dog,
I love you; I really do. Your hair? Yeah, not so much. If I can teach you to shake hands, to come on command, to put your toys away, and to ring a bell on the mudroom door when you want to go outside, don't you think I could teach you to vacuum?
Hopefully yours, The Human Who Feeds You
Dear Thighs,
You manage to run an average of fifteen miles a week. You can balance in difficult yoga poses for fifteen full ujjayi breaths. You can hold a wall squat for three minutes. You can manage twenty walking lunges, on each side...so...why still so jiggly, Thighs? Why?
Signed, Confused
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