December 10, 2008
Oh, hi.
Listen. Don’t talk. Just, listen.
Yesterday, I was folding laundry. Some, very important laundry.
Some socks, and t-shirts and towels and
that’s why I couldn’t go out to lunch with you, okay?

No! Sorry, no not okay, see that’s not really the reason.
The real reason is that…I had to shower.
I had to take a shower soooo bad. I mean, my hair?
Oh, you should’ve seen it, it was a mess.
And the smell? Man, did I stink.
Honestly, you could probably smell me from about 10 miles away.

Okay, you know what? That’s not the truth either.
It’s just…you see…it’s my grandmother.
She’s just been so sick lately and the truth is, we’re not quite sure how much longer she’ll be with us…

Oh…no, no. Sorry, the real truth is…
I have this friend. And she gave me this nail polish a while ago.
And really it’s been sitting there for the longest time and
I just had to try it out.
So, I painted my fingernails but,
it just looked so fabulous I had to paint my toenails too.
But I…I accidentally knocked over the little bottle and
nail polish went everywhere, and I mean everywhere!
It spilled all over the floor—no, the rug—the carpet!
Yeah, it was like, a nail polish extravaganza except like,
the negative of extravaganza like…fiasco!

Okay, okay, you wanna know what the truth is?
You wanna know why I couldn’t go out to lunch with you yesterday?
Well it’s because…I hate you.
I think you’re ugly,
And stupid,
And annoying,
And frankly, I never want to see your face again.

No! No, no, no, no, no!
Okay, now, listen.
I’ll tell you the truth. And I promise you,
with my whole entire collection of Dora the Explorer action figures,
that this is the real truth.

The thing is, whenever I see you, it kind of causes me
To be sent to the emergency room.
As in, that actually happened to me…twice.

Because it’s just like, your smile...it kinda seems
To form into this giant boa constrictor that
wraps itself around my body and
squeezes as tight as it can until
I can’t breathe anymore…

And…your voice…?
When you talk to me,
your words are like some secret code to my sweat glands
that tells them to have a house party of some sorts and
it’s pretty much Niagara falls in armpits.

And…wow, you’re eyes…
Well, your eyes are kind of like…scissors that
Stab into my throat and cut out my vocal chords and then maybe
send them through a meat grinder,
leaving me with no ability to talk whatsoever.

And so, you see, it’s probably in the best interest of my health,
for me to stay as far away from you as I possibly can but,
it’s like your whole body is a refrigerator and I’m a magnet, so
I can’t really help but be drawn to you.

So, if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, I hear that hospital is open 24/7.

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