*Ash Hole reporting in :)*
Dear Lone Wolf-
Let me start by saying how truly glad I am that I was seated next to you on Tower of Terror. I'll admit, I was a little concerned when I heard that you were riding the ride alone. However, you turned out to be a decent conversationalist, and I quite enjoyed what you had to say, until you said "Sorry if I smack you in the face" once we sat down on the ride. However, the near death experience that is the Hollywood Tower of Terror distracted me from that odd comment, and thankfully you did not, in fact, smack me in the face. All was right with the world until we went down to the room where they show our pictures and I watched you zoom in your camera and take a picture of our section of the elevator, and then zoom in further to focus just on me. I then proceeded to run out of the building as fast as I could into the huddled masses of the people dancing in Glow Fest. I don't even really know how to process the events of that night, and even now, days later, I shudder at the thought that you now have a picture of my screaming face forever.
Forever yours, apparently
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Scary Spice
Dear Dave #216
I appreciate you assuming that because I was sitting alone at Tandori with my book and iPod that I wanted to be interrupted. Clearly I was giving a "come interrupt my peaceful lunch you total stranger" vibe! How could I have not realized what I was doing? I mean my simple chick lit book must have led you to assume that all women love being hit on (badly) by guys they have never laid eyes upon before. You must have known that the entire 30 seconds you were rambling on to me I was screaming in my head "THIS IS IT!! I HAVE FOUND TRUE LOVE!!!" I must have scared you away when, in my pure joyous excitement, I told you I was already enjoying the story I was reading, and did not need another. Albeit your life story did seem far more amusing. However that was not the end of our trist! You spent a good part of your own meal staring at me (don't think I noticed your loving gaze). Not only that but you seemed somewhat unable to keep your own food going in your mouth. In fact, I feel I should tell you that a fork is meant to go in your mouth, not to repeatedly stab you in the face. Hmmm perhaps you were trying to recreate the sentiment put forth my Alan Rickman in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves....but I should tell you that his threat was more about cutting Robin's heart out with a spoon. But, however, I'm sure you meant well!! I cannot fault you for what is, I'm sure, a completely esoteric movie reference. Who would appreciate those more than I? Although if your intent was to woo me with this I feel I should tell you I was more frightened for my life than anything else. Not a minute has gone by since I shoveled the last of my food in my mouth and ran out of there that I haven't thought about you. Unfortunately I doubt that the impression you wished to leave me with was one of utter horror and more one of love and adoration. Clearly this was a swing and a miss on my part. 3 strikes and I'm out on true love once again.
Forkingly Yours.
I appreciate you assuming that because I was sitting alone at Tandori with my book and iPod that I wanted to be interrupted. Clearly I was giving a "come interrupt my peaceful lunch you total stranger" vibe! How could I have not realized what I was doing? I mean my simple chick lit book must have led you to assume that all women love being hit on (badly) by guys they have never laid eyes upon before. You must have known that the entire 30 seconds you were rambling on to me I was screaming in my head "THIS IS IT!! I HAVE FOUND TRUE LOVE!!!" I must have scared you away when, in my pure joyous excitement, I told you I was already enjoying the story I was reading, and did not need another. Albeit your life story did seem far more amusing. However that was not the end of our trist! You spent a good part of your own meal staring at me (don't think I noticed your loving gaze). Not only that but you seemed somewhat unable to keep your own food going in your mouth. In fact, I feel I should tell you that a fork is meant to go in your mouth, not to repeatedly stab you in the face. Hmmm perhaps you were trying to recreate the sentiment put forth my Alan Rickman in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves....but I should tell you that his threat was more about cutting Robin's heart out with a spoon. But, however, I'm sure you meant well!! I cannot fault you for what is, I'm sure, a completely esoteric movie reference. Who would appreciate those more than I? Although if your intent was to woo me with this I feel I should tell you I was more frightened for my life than anything else. Not a minute has gone by since I shoveled the last of my food in my mouth and ran out of there that I haven't thought about you. Unfortunately I doubt that the impression you wished to leave me with was one of utter horror and more one of love and adoration. Clearly this was a swing and a miss on my part. 3 strikes and I'm out on true love once again.
Forkingly Yours.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Coldstone for the warm heart :)
Dearest Scoop (as in ice-cream):
In a change from my typical letter to anonymous men in this blog, my letter to you takes on a much less sarcastical tone. Perhaps that is because all my pent up anger and misgivings from the day I unleashed earlier on Amburlence. Although, perhaps, I should back up. The day was not, in it's entirety, a piece of shite. In fact that most important part of my day was also the most magical. My loverly cousin and I (as well as our parentals) went on a shopping trip for her wedding dress! And, as luck would have it, she found the perfect one!! And on her birthday no less! Anyway how does this all pertain to you you may ask? Well the lunch and wedding dress shopping was definitely the highlight of my day. Less fantastical was the realization that the mirrors at David's Bridal made me look about 300lbs. Also was the waking up at 830 to spend the morning moving furniture. And onto the fact that the floor guys didn't bother showing up today making all my effort in moving USELESS in that they wont be here until tomorrow. Extra shite. This all culminating in my general upset attitude towards so many other things in my life made for a pretty shit day that had happier elements. As I said before wedding dress shopping was the best part of my last few weeks! And I'm so happy to have been there with my best friend as she picked out the perfect dress. Back to you. Since my day was pretty shit I decided to relax by spending an hour and a half in the hot tub. After said excursion I decided to wander over to Coldstone Creamery. My hair was wet. I had absolutely no makeup on. When you asked me how my day was I just mumbled something about it being long and tiring. But your up attitude and genuine interest in my life was uplifting! Quickly I realized that your intentions were more flirtatious than I had initially realized. Given my crap day I was more than eager to reciprocate. So I wrote you this extremely long homage of a non-sarcastic love letter. Which, in fact, is very out of character for me. But it just shows how much your 10 minutes of flirting in my life really made my day. And really made me feel like I was worth something other than a shoulder to cry on, and a set of arms used too often to move shit for people that (other than one select person) fail to really give an overall shit. So thank you Mr. Scoop :)
Gotta Have It :D
In a change from my typical letter to anonymous men in this blog, my letter to you takes on a much less sarcastical tone. Perhaps that is because all my pent up anger and misgivings from the day I unleashed earlier on Amburlence. Although, perhaps, I should back up. The day was not, in it's entirety, a piece of shite. In fact that most important part of my day was also the most magical. My loverly cousin and I (as well as our parentals) went on a shopping trip for her wedding dress! And, as luck would have it, she found the perfect one!! And on her birthday no less! Anyway how does this all pertain to you you may ask? Well the lunch and wedding dress shopping was definitely the highlight of my day. Less fantastical was the realization that the mirrors at David's Bridal made me look about 300lbs. Also was the waking up at 830 to spend the morning moving furniture. And onto the fact that the floor guys didn't bother showing up today making all my effort in moving USELESS in that they wont be here until tomorrow. Extra shite. This all culminating in my general upset attitude towards so many other things in my life made for a pretty shit day that had happier elements. As I said before wedding dress shopping was the best part of my last few weeks! And I'm so happy to have been there with my best friend as she picked out the perfect dress. Back to you. Since my day was pretty shit I decided to relax by spending an hour and a half in the hot tub. After said excursion I decided to wander over to Coldstone Creamery. My hair was wet. I had absolutely no makeup on. When you asked me how my day was I just mumbled something about it being long and tiring. But your up attitude and genuine interest in my life was uplifting! Quickly I realized that your intentions were more flirtatious than I had initially realized. Given my crap day I was more than eager to reciprocate. So I wrote you this extremely long homage of a non-sarcastic love letter. Which, in fact, is very out of character for me. But it just shows how much your 10 minutes of flirting in my life really made my day. And really made me feel like I was worth something other than a shoulder to cry on, and a set of arms used too often to move shit for people that (other than one select person) fail to really give an overall shit. So thank you Mr. Scoop :)
Gotta Have It :D
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Irish in disguise??
**this just in from guest correspondent Ash Hole**
Dear Scary Foreign Man,
I'm not sure what the customs are in whatever country you were spawned in, but here in America it is generally frowned upon for a man to strike up a conversation and openly hit on a girl on a train who is clearly half your age. However, your recognition of the quintessential American college student's opening line of "What's your major" was incredibly well placed (although the conversation that followed ended up being highly regrettable considering the fact that you are insane). My first hint that I should never have started talking to you was when you asked for my age, and I told you the truth, and you continued to flirt with me even though you were clearly twice my age. Your knowledge of the custom of the Claddagh Rings (although you most definitely were not Irish) came as quite a shock to me, the scared college girl who was trying desperately to get you to leave her alone by telling you that she was in a relationship, when her ring was clearly facing in the wrong direction for that to be true. After seeing your anger at my blatant lie flash across your face as you pointed out that my ring was facing in the wrong direction, I must admit it was a relief when you went back to telling me how beautiful and interesting I was, and asking if you could perhaps call me sometime. However, nothing could match the relief I felt when my stop came and I was able to run out of the train, into the safety of my car. For the safety of myself, and all other young college girls who ride that train to and from school, I sincerely hope that following that train ride you were promptly run over by a bus, and your remains scattered by a pack of rabid coyotes.
Much love
Dear Scary Foreign Man,
I'm not sure what the customs are in whatever country you were spawned in, but here in America it is generally frowned upon for a man to strike up a conversation and openly hit on a girl on a train who is clearly half your age. However, your recognition of the quintessential American college student's opening line of "What's your major" was incredibly well placed (although the conversation that followed ended up being highly regrettable considering the fact that you are insane). My first hint that I should never have started talking to you was when you asked for my age, and I told you the truth, and you continued to flirt with me even though you were clearly twice my age. Your knowledge of the custom of the Claddagh Rings (although you most definitely were not Irish) came as quite a shock to me, the scared college girl who was trying desperately to get you to leave her alone by telling you that she was in a relationship, when her ring was clearly facing in the wrong direction for that to be true. After seeing your anger at my blatant lie flash across your face as you pointed out that my ring was facing in the wrong direction, I must admit it was a relief when you went back to telling me how beautiful and interesting I was, and asking if you could perhaps call me sometime. However, nothing could match the relief I felt when my stop came and I was able to run out of the train, into the safety of my car. For the safety of myself, and all other young college girls who ride that train to and from school, I sincerely hope that following that train ride you were promptly run over by a bus, and your remains scattered by a pack of rabid coyotes.
Much love
Strangers on a Train
**brought to you by our lovely guest correspondent Ash Hole**
Dear Slime Boy:
I'm very sorry for not responding to you the first time you tried to say hello to me on the train. Looking back on it, a very large, unkempt man waving frantically in my direction should have caught my attention in a good way, a way in which true love would instantly form between us. It was so rude of me to continue looking at my phone, rather than acknowledge your existence. I'm sorry it took until the next stop for me to finally get the hint that your flattering (not to mention very cool and suave) wave was intended for me. And when I quickly waved back and immediately looked back down, I can see how you might think that I was being coy and shy, while secretly planning our vacation wedding and our children's names in my head. I can see, then, why you thought I would have been disappointed when my stop came and I had to get off the train without meeting the future love of my life.
I am so very glad, then, that you decided to wait at my stop a few weeks later, and rush right up to talk to me in the pouring rain. Looking back, it should have been the perfect moment for our eyes to meet, and our true love vows to be spoken...just like in "The Notebook." Given the all too perfect set up, and the fact that you had waited around just to talk to me, I can see why you wouldn't believe that i really meant "No" when you asked me out that day. Who was I to deny our fate? Who was I to deny true love.
But wait! As luck would have it, as I was sitting on the train a few weeks later, I got another shot at true love. As I saw you sit down directly across from me, I'll admit my heart stopped. The look of shock and fear on my face was clearly not, as I had originally thought, stemming from my fear of imminent death, but really it was fear of the unknown-fear of the shot at true love that had come so suddenly into my personal space. You asked me out again, and again I said no. Why...WHY did I do that? Now you are probably busy stalking another young girl on the train, and now every time I board that train my stomach will drop and my heart will stop-not out of fear of being stalked, killed, or raped by you, but at fear of having lost my one true love. My slime boy.
Forever Longing for Your Embrace.
Dear Slime Boy:
I'm very sorry for not responding to you the first time you tried to say hello to me on the train. Looking back on it, a very large, unkempt man waving frantically in my direction should have caught my attention in a good way, a way in which true love would instantly form between us. It was so rude of me to continue looking at my phone, rather than acknowledge your existence. I'm sorry it took until the next stop for me to finally get the hint that your flattering (not to mention very cool and suave) wave was intended for me. And when I quickly waved back and immediately looked back down, I can see how you might think that I was being coy and shy, while secretly planning our vacation wedding and our children's names in my head. I can see, then, why you thought I would have been disappointed when my stop came and I had to get off the train without meeting the future love of my life.
I am so very glad, then, that you decided to wait at my stop a few weeks later, and rush right up to talk to me in the pouring rain. Looking back, it should have been the perfect moment for our eyes to meet, and our true love vows to be spoken...just like in "The Notebook." Given the all too perfect set up, and the fact that you had waited around just to talk to me, I can see why you wouldn't believe that i really meant "No" when you asked me out that day. Who was I to deny our fate? Who was I to deny true love.
But wait! As luck would have it, as I was sitting on the train a few weeks later, I got another shot at true love. As I saw you sit down directly across from me, I'll admit my heart stopped. The look of shock and fear on my face was clearly not, as I had originally thought, stemming from my fear of imminent death, but really it was fear of the unknown-fear of the shot at true love that had come so suddenly into my personal space. You asked me out again, and again I said no. Why...WHY did I do that? Now you are probably busy stalking another young girl on the train, and now every time I board that train my stomach will drop and my heart will stop-not out of fear of being stalked, killed, or raped by you, but at fear of having lost my one true love. My slime boy.
Forever Longing for Your Embrace.
Taylor the Latte Boy
Dear Taylor
Unlike your counterpart in a Kristen Chenowyth song you seemed seemed less interesting in providing me with my delicious soy latte and more interested whatever your girlfriend was sexting you. In opposition with what you might imagine I am uninterested in seeing the look on your face when you receive, what I can only assume, to be a particularly racy text from your girlfriend (or boyfriend? I'm not one to judge!! Although here's hoping the gay community doesn't suffer your admittance into their numbers). I am, however, completely interested in the fact that you do not over-steam my soymilk so that it gets to a boiling 210 degrees!! You may have heard that a girl loves to have her tongue burned off as foreplay but I can say that I did not appreciate the sentiment. Personally, I love having full use of all my extremities. Now this could be forgiven if it were merely a first offense. However, last time I had frequented your Starbucks you were far too distracted by the blonde in the NOT-shirt that you gave me 2% instead of soy! You think I can't tell but I can!! I may have thought you were cute the first time I saw you with your smouldering eyes and your 6'4 frame but, alas, lack of brains can do nothing for me except ruin, what should be, a somewhat religious coffee experience.
Burningly Yours.
Unlike your counterpart in a Kristen Chenowyth song you seemed seemed less interesting in providing me with my delicious soy latte and more interested whatever your girlfriend was sexting you. In opposition with what you might imagine I am uninterested in seeing the look on your face when you receive, what I can only assume, to be a particularly racy text from your girlfriend (or boyfriend? I'm not one to judge!! Although here's hoping the gay community doesn't suffer your admittance into their numbers). I am, however, completely interested in the fact that you do not over-steam my soymilk so that it gets to a boiling 210 degrees!! You may have heard that a girl loves to have her tongue burned off as foreplay but I can say that I did not appreciate the sentiment. Personally, I love having full use of all my extremities. Now this could be forgiven if it were merely a first offense. However, last time I had frequented your Starbucks you were far too distracted by the blonde in the NOT-shirt that you gave me 2% instead of soy! You think I can't tell but I can!! I may have thought you were cute the first time I saw you with your smouldering eyes and your 6'4 frame but, alas, lack of brains can do nothing for me except ruin, what should be, a somewhat religious coffee experience.
Burningly Yours.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Always nice to know the people that are looking out for you
Dear Eco-Chode #14
Ok, I will admit, you were right when you looked at me talking on my cell phone while I was driving and gave me an incredulous look. You even went so far to tear your eyes away from the road to stare me down and shake your finger at me. I'm surprised you took your focus off your own driving long enough to admonish my own. Little did you know that I was talking to my fair cousin about how much I had fallen instantly and madly into a state of indifference. Furthermore, I feel the deep seeded need to tell you that your finger-waving efforts may have been taken more seriously had you not been one of the top gas guzzling cars our fair country has to offer.
Hugs and Kisses.
Ok, I will admit, you were right when you looked at me talking on my cell phone while I was driving and gave me an incredulous look. You even went so far to tear your eyes away from the road to stare me down and shake your finger at me. I'm surprised you took your focus off your own driving long enough to admonish my own. Little did you know that I was talking to my fair cousin about how much I had fallen instantly and madly into a state of indifference. Furthermore, I feel the deep seeded need to tell you that your finger-waving efforts may have been taken more seriously had you not been one of the top gas guzzling cars our fair country has to offer.
Hugs and Kisses.
Dude, I'm not Spain and you can't stick your flag in me!
**this one is my newest old one from my old blog, it's actual date is May twenty-ninth**
Dear Joe #347
I'm sorry if you believe me to be a bitch now. I can see how me saying you were about 4 years and 6 inches too short for me warranted such behavior. You must be thinking it's because I'm some crazy uber bitch, but really I just feared the intimate love that you and I could have had. Clearly you must know that I don't deem myself worthy of affection such as yours. It is, as you said, "my effing loss!" For that, I'm severely and eternally disappointed. I will now express my sadness by swearing off all men and going to live in the mountains to pine for you forever.
Eternally Yours.
Dear Joe #347
I'm sorry if you believe me to be a bitch now. I can see how me saying you were about 4 years and 6 inches too short for me warranted such behavior. You must be thinking it's because I'm some crazy uber bitch, but really I just feared the intimate love that you and I could have had. Clearly you must know that I don't deem myself worthy of affection such as yours. It is, as you said, "my effing loss!" For that, I'm severely and eternally disappointed. I will now express my sadness by swearing off all men and going to live in the mountains to pine for you forever.
Eternally Yours.
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