Post Holiday Open Letters.

Happy MondayafterChristmas!

I apologize for no Friday Eye Candy … or a venting place for the weekly purges … but it was in fact Christmas … and I figured it would be better to host your weekly venting place after the holidays and the after holiday sale madness.

Good decision?

Commence the open letters:

Tara is chomping at the bit to put some open letters out there into the privacy of her own internet space:

Dear Where Do You Want to Start,

I am fucking over it. I am tired of my busy ass life. I just want to relax with my hot boyfriends dick in my mouth. K!? (Yeah she went there)

I do not want to deal with anymore:
1) Holiday fucking drivers.
2) Excuse: It’s Christmas Time.
3) Ghey ass, unreliable, (don’t make sense) Holiday Hours
4) Even though I love and absolutely adore holiday parties, I am over them. I am sick of every single weekend being booked and having to stress about what to wear, did I already wear that to a holiday party where there were pictures … etc. Not only that, but I am fucking sick of impressing people and hanging out with people that I don’t like. And, I would rather have my hot boyfriends dick in my mouth. Also, get the holiday food out of my face. Because none of it is friendly to my ass size. K?! (cosigning on #4)
5) Done.

Love, Tarable

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Dear Muffin Top,

You hurt my feelings. You are not cute. You make me feel like all of the bitches I make fun of, and not be excited about fitting into my new size 11 jeans. I haven’t been a size 11 since I was born. Even if I bought a bigger size, it would be just as bad because you would move to my ass and make it look like I pooped my pants and that is not fair.

Get out of here you muffiny fuckin bitch.
Tarable

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Dear You,

I am over it. I am over it for my friend who is also over it. She wants to put it in her mouth but you are being a baby. So why don’t you take your crying tears and your kleenex box and cry about it via text.

Just saying.

Tarable.

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Dear Keanu Reeves,

Can I just fucking touch it? I have been waiting. WAITING. I have wanted to touch it since I was 7. Just let me touch it. Sorry hot boyfriend.

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Dear Tara,

Really? A snorer? Of allll the non sexy things you could ever do? Snore? Now you have to wear Breathe Right Strips for your hot boyfriend whos dick you want to put in your mouth to let you sleep over. Grow up its not that bad.

Tarable

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Dear Wine,

Thank you. (No seriously)

Love, Tarable

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Dear Family,

Thank you for not being crazy, psychotic, dysfunctional fuck faces this Christmas. It was proof that we can always get along.

Love Tara

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Dear Donovan,

Fuck you. (Oh!) I hate you right now. I am gonna write you a letter because I love you but I kinda hate you right now. When you come home you better walk in the door, smile and make it all better (Word) annnnnnnnnnnnnd you better not do this bullshit EVER AGAIN or I will personally do something violent and that will not make you smile to you. You are the one that made the analogy of 5 fingers and then cut your own finger the hell off. On both hands. (Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaayum) Dont ever do it again. K? Gah. We need you here and if you dont see that … I don’t know what to tell you.

I miss you.

Love Me

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And now for mine.

Dear Tarable,

You need to knock it off. You know what “it” is. You don’t always get your way when you want it. If you did, this one would be less interesting.

Don’t make me tell you again.

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Dear You,

Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

And also.

Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

Oh. By the way.

Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

———————————————————————————————————————-

Dear Carbohydrates,

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck you. I would like to enjoy a slice or 9 of bread without gaining 23537y457754742w3 pounds while doing it.

I LIKE YOU BUT I CANT HAVE YOU AND IT ISNT FAIR AND IT HURTS MY FEELINGS.

BLahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhIwantsomechipsahoy.andacheeseburger.andsomepadthai.andsomemacaroniandcheese.andpizza.andstuffing.withgravy.andmashedpotatoes.andbreadandbutter.andpastaexceptforolivegarden.andredlobstercheddargarlicbiscuits.clamchowderinabreadbowl.chocolate.chipsandqueso.girlscoutcookies.alsosourpatchkids.andsoda.andstickyricewithpenutsauceonitandsomesrirachatoo.anythingfried.andagrilledcheesesandwichwithamericancheesepandaexpress.

The end. Love TarablyWicked

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Dear Vagina,

It is almost over. You have gone the long haul and I am sure the big black cardboard check at the finish line will pay the winner (you) really REALLY WELL. Not to mention, you are (not that you werent already) gonna be really tiny. Like as if you had vagina bypass surgery or something. Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenytinyvagina.

I am proud of your sticktoitiveness.

Wicked

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Dear Boyfriend, (From Girlfriend)

It has been several days since we have fucked. I would like for you to meet me in that one place you suggested the other day so you can bend me over and let me have it.

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Dear Xavier,

Knock it the fuck off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are such a little argumentative fucker right now and I dont fucking get it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHUTUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love Tara and Mom!

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Dear Washington Strip Clubs,

Why can’t you show me a pretty vagine? Why are the bitches here skanky, disease infested messes? Can I just come on a Friday night and get an alcoholic beverage while staring at pretty vajay dance all in my business because you do not provide that here.

I am just sayin.

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Dear Hair,

Pick one.

Tarable

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Dear Readers,

Thanks for Reading. Good Night.

TarablyWicked

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And for some Eye Candy: Jamie Dornan

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t.h.o.u.g.h.t.s

Do you ever wonder what people are doing in the exact same moment as you?

Here I sit, avoiding 2 overflowing baskets of laundry, wondering what someone else is doing. Are they wondering what I am doing? Are they avoiding 2 similarly overflowing baskets of mismatched socks and mens’ boxer briefs?

Prolly not.

Other people are bustling out the door to the bar right now, 2-3 shots deep and ready to have mindless sex with some guy/girl named Kelly. They are nose deep in a really kick ass book, their ipod softly serenading the soundtrack. They are zoning out on Myspace bulletins and silly mobsters apps. Some other people are playing World Of Warcraft.

Not me.

I am thinking about Q. What is she doing? Is she feeling better? Does her tummy still hurt?

I am thinking about my mom.

I am thinking about how I can walk Squish through changing her alternator.

I am thinking about that same beautiful house I pass by on the way home from work that did not have Christmas Lights up the evening prior… but did have them up tonight. That house looks warm on the inside. It looks like pitterpatters go on there every morning at about 7am. It looks like it smells like pancakes and mimosas on Sunday mornings. I hear laughter inside that house. I wish that house was my house every single morning and even moreso every single evening.

I am thinking about how it is almost a year ago since I had a soul fill up.

I am thinking about past lovers.

I am thinking about my current lover, and whether or not he is really ok.

I am thinking about whether or not I am really ok.

The holidays make me feel reflective. I get internal; hibernat-y for lack of a better description. I am not yet accepting that Thanksgiving is only 2 friggen weeks away. I am trying to get all “WOO TURKEYDAY IS APON US!!!” But I dont feel excited. I dont feel not excited either. I just kinda feel like life is rushing past my face and I am standing in slow motion as it races by. Almost like I am standing in the middle of the freeway, and all of the cars are passing me at 70mph.

Dont get me wrong though. I am not sad or depressed… I am just here.
Do you ever feel like that?
Like your feet are stuck in newly laid cement on a sidewalk?

No matter how god damn hard you try to just run like Forrest fucking Gump… you cannot fucking move.

Since when did things seem to be more hassle than enjoyable?

The scrooge-ette in me wants to say fuck these over commercialized holidays. But with kids, it would be taking something from their childhood experience if I did. It would be selfish of me to do something like that. Maybe after Thanksgiving happens, I will feel more in this thing all of the commercials and advertisements call ‘holiday spirit’.

Sometimes I wish that I had it carefree. A life of mindless sex with Kelly and roller blades to skate alongside the speeding vehicles on the freeway of existence.

Are you feeling bluesy about the upcoming holidays? Do you even realize the closeness of this corner we are fast approaching?
What do you do to try and get excited or in ‘the spirit’? (Please share… I am asking for advice here)
What is on your mind today? Good, Bad, New… ???

You go.

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