Everything here is true. Some things are truer than others. Some things should be true but are not. All things are based on truth. How truthful I am! O, Truth!, et cetera
From the desk of Esther Wilberforce-Packard, typing from Minneapolis, MN
Ha! You don’t care about pleasing me! If you really cared about how I feel, you wouldn’t tell people that my mother is dead because I pushed her off a balcony when I was fourteen.
21 Comments:
Right. Nobody says “Big Money No Whammys” anymore. Were you drinking?
I wasn’t drinking, but maybe she was. Maybe she thought she was saying “Bog mummies! No grannies!” - a common faxtime sentiment.
Aha! You were drinking! Liar.
No, but I’m drinking now.
What are you drinking?
Nothing. I just wanted to please you.
Ha! You don’t care about pleasing me! If you really cared about how I feel, you wouldn’t tell people that my mother is dead because I pushed her off a balcony when I was fourteen.
Fifteen. I usually tell them you were fifteen.
ARRRRRRR$&%&$#*! I’m done commenting on your stupid blog! It’s supposed to be fun, but instead it’s just terrible!
Are you sure?
Ok, but if you leave now, I get to keep your BeeGees album.
No you don’t! I want that back! You’ve had it since last March!
Yes, but I lent it to someone else and they finally gave it back. I’ve just started listening to it.
But it’s mine!
Oh, I don’t know about that.
GIVE IT BACK!
I have to go now, someone’s throwing me a Frisbee.
GIVE IT BACK!
Byebye.
This is how I lost my Steve Miller CD. Sons of bitches.
It's just like they always say: "Scram gravy ain't wavy."
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