I thought about writing real letters, but decided that it would be impossible to survive the wait, and no one in their right mind would pay an exorbitant amount of money to have a letter tracked by the postal service. Right?
Judith, Katie, and Kelly:
I have good news and bad news. The good news is, despite my slow response, I still like you girls. The bad news is I don’t really like like you girls. See, I've met you (Kelly you don't count as knowing Caitlin is enough of a red-flag) - and thus it is far easier to put Samantha on a far-away and indestructible pedestal.
Judith,
I know you’re probably thinking, “This blog is stupid. Why am I even looking at it? And I wrote a submission for Jeff Goldblum, not you, idiot.”
It is quite obvious that your persistence in voting for Jeff Goldblum instead of me, and your decision to buck the trend and write a submission for an old, semi-famous guy who will never know your name instead of someone who actually exists in your life is really nothing more than a brilliant plan to devalue my worth to better your own chances. I get it.
A few words about your submission: I’m actually 6’4’’ just like Jeff Goldblum (that last part should be pronounced like “plum,” but with a “b”… obviously not a name), and plenty of people have had successful lives despite not getting a role as the drunk party-going extra in Annie Hall:
Not bad, huh? These three gentlemen account for a Nobel Peace Prize, 11 Grammys, and a Sixth Man of the Year Award. The point is, I may be broke as a joke right now, but I’m working on that. Jeff Goldblum’s biggest accomplishment is Jurassic Park. That’s pretty impressive, but I’d rather shoot for a Nobel Peace Prize, 11 Grammys, and/or a Sixth Man of the Year Award.
Your plan was clever, but you didn’t come correct. You don’t have to lie about your feelings, and you certainly shouldn’t try to make me look like a scrub to better your odds. That’s just weak, Judith. (But you still have bangs… call me? Don’t tell Samantha.)
Katie,
I watched your video but I didn’t really understand it because I happen to be of the male persuasion. Also, those cards sort of make things romantic for a little while, but the more I thought about it, your speech impairment could be an issue. I mean, we could sit around writing on poster board all day in order to communicate, but the number of trees that would have to die for that to become a reality is more than I can stand. And I like being able to sleep at night with a clear conscience. That being said, you’re a pot of chili and a sheet of chocolate chip cookies away from getting a ring on it. For real.
Kelly,
What happened to you? For the readers who weren’t around, Kelly had a dramatic fall from grace in which she started criticizing me for my age, not calling her at a phone number I don’t have, and then began talking (to no one in particular) about her job, lunch, a dog and other nonsensical babble before screaming something about not needing me (yeah, right) and fleeing the (chat)room. You have established yourself as a Robocop.
Furthermore, as funny as wearing the recycling turns out to be in a blog, at the end of the day, you’re just wearing trash. There is a distinction when you’re putting recycling and trash into their respective bins, but when you are draping all of that stuff on your body… honey, then it’s all just trash. I guess Caitlin didn’t tell you, but you have to be first day of school fresh, everyday. Cardigans, jackets with elbow pads, horn-rimmed glasses and boots can help keep you fresh. Tin cans and wine bottles cannot.
I hope you find peace with your internet links, art trolley, and second apartment. Do yourself a favor and have the walls padded. And don’t come within two states of me. #nutcase
Samantha,
You extended a difficult challenge and I’m not entirely sure that I can measure up. I’m only 6’4’’. It’s possible that I’m not worthy of your Tuesday lunches because I have no idea what that entails. My dance moves are okay, but when “Teach Me How to Dougie” becomes old news, so will my act. Basically, the one thing I have going for me is that I’m Caitlin’s second prettiest friend (until Elsa gets engaged or lets herself go, in which case I’ll take the crown).
I’m not entirely sure what that does for you, but it can’t hurt, right?
In the meantime, I’d like to get to know you, to better understand your demands and to train myself to meet every last one. If you have a place for a tired farmhand to rest his head (your bedroom? I mean that in a good way), I’ll begin riding my bike in your direction before sunrise tomorrow.
Your farmhand,
Farmer Dan
First! TLDR!
ReplyDeleteYou had me @ "come correct".
ReplyDeleteBut then you posted a photo of J. Terry. We all know he only won that year because Manu had an ankle injury.
"Come Correct"....Stolen from Glee. I'm telling you Sam, don't be fooled by the plaid shirts. And obviously, Jeff Goldblum's best movie was "The Fly" and Jason Terry names his children different variations of his name, Jason, and wears socks that are WAY too big for him. I think Dylan Matelski was the better choice here.
ReplyDelete