I’ve been in a pissy mood for the last week, since dropping my kitty into oblivion 11 days ago. still no word or sighting, so I thought I’d take this opportunity to bitch and moan for a bit…

I ‘borrowed’ this idea from meno, who got it from gina. I sincerely hope neither of them mind…
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dear citgo station at the corner of church street and 150,

fill up you damn receipt printer!! what’s the point of paying at the pump if I still have to come into your ratty-ass store and get my receipt? you’ll only fool me once, as the other lazy neighborhood purveyors of fuel have no doubt learned. I don’t need a car wash, I don’t want your stupid little bobble-head pens, I just want a receipt that says I did indeed pay $200 for 3 gallons of gas…well, maybe $25 for 6 gallons.
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dear children of my flesh,

I love y’all dearly, with all my heart, but I fail to understand the difficulty in refilling the ice trays that I have so lovingly filled so that you will have the ice you need at your command. lucky for me I hide ice in bags in the bottom of the chest freezer. one of these days you’ll realize that I still have ice when you don’t. Just fill the trays!
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dear asswipe in the lexus at the top of the 87 ramp on freeway drive,

I don’t know how you were raised ~nor do I give a rat’s ass~ but around here, a yield sign means that I have the right of way and you need to wait until I’ve passed before you pull out. it does NOT mean that you run me off the road and blow you stupid little horn at me when I fail to submit to your superior will. clue: if that inverted triangle thing is on your side of the road, it’s yours not mine.
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dear old man in the ford pick-up on oregon hill rd & the old man in the chevy silverado on old 29 old men in pick-ups in general,

I have not yet guessed the reason that you feel the need to pull out in front of me, then drive 35 miles an hour in a 55 zone. the fact that there was not one car behind me as far as the eye could see, confuses me even more. I hope you get a flat tire and all the people behind you just pass you and laugh. no, I don’t, not really. but I am angry. can you tell?

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dear mail lady,

I’m sorry. the day you pulled out in front of me on the rainy road, when you forced me to almost ditch my car to avoid hitting you…you didn’t even notice me. I was so upset I called your supervisor. as soon as I hung up, I felt bad. and then, AND THEN, you offered to keep your eyes out for my chewey, then even called to check in with me a few days ago. I misjudged you, and for that, I am very, very sorry. thank you for you kindness, even when I didn’t deserve it.
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dear husband,

thank you. I love you. I know that you are really struggling to keep your head above water right now. between your crappy job, finances, and your stupid wife losing your cat, every day is a battle. and yet you still find the kindness to just hold me and rock me when I’ve been upset about your cat, and to brush my hair to help me calm down and sleep. I love you and I don’t know what I’d do without you.
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I’m sorry that y’all had to see me like this, but I just had to get it off my chest. thanks for listenin’

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