Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Read between my lines and discover an obsessive-compulsive wonderland.

Dear Evil Red-Headed Berta Lou, Bald Mean Looking Ex-Marine Cop Who Isn't Really Mean and Pocket Sized Incredibly Handsome But Totally Knows It Cop,

I regret to inform you that your collective services as friends of the OCD Chick will no longer be needed. (I have not been receiving the massive amounts of attention I require on a regular basis and so now must publicly force you to love me whether you want to or not.)

I assure you that it is not without much consideration and personal struggle (tequila) that I have made this choice, so it is my sincere hope that you respect and accept it and move on with your lives. (Get together over coffee and come up with a grand gesture that will prove your insane love for me. Something involving a sacrifice would be nice.)

Because each of you has been behaving as if there is anything on Earth more important than me, (There isn't. I checked), I have been left painfully and utterly alone. (Mr. Man goes to bed early.)

Without your guidance (drunken dares) and genuine desire to see me succeed(see my boobies), I have recently made some shall we say, unfortunate life choices. (I may or may not have hit on a guy with giant glasses and an unknown black substance underneath his fingernails that I pray to God was grease.)

It is because of my deep love (unnatural in every way) and profound respect (unhealthy obsession) for each of you that I have found my life without you to be meaningless (boring) and without purpose. (I'm not even gonna kid you. That last line was straight bull shit.)

Since you've been gone (bitch ripped me off), I have struggled (fell down a lot because you know how clumsy I am) to fill the gaping hole (from having my gall bladder removed) that once held my abiding love for you. (If I were a guy and you were a three headed girl and we were in a bar, you'd totally be going home with me after a line like that.)

Day after day, hour after hour (like five or ten minutes), I spent wrapped in the misery of missing you. (And/or hitting on ugly men for reasons still not clear to even me.) It is only because of my faith (in cocktails) that I was able to reach the point of being able to finally let you go. (I never let anyone go. You know that.)

I wish each of you well (as in I hope you fall in one if you don't pay way more attention to me) and pray that you'll always think of me fondly. (That was fondly. Not fondling. Completely different meanings.)

As for me (me, me, me... it is of course always about me), I am looking to the future (so many husbands, so little time) with great anticipation (like the ketchup and the song), an open heart (which can be drafty) and the firm (like my ass) belief that I will someday (probably tomorrow) find friendship (people who like me even after they've known me more than a minute) and love (inappropriate touching) again.

My Warmest Regards (to Broadway),
Sher (Queen, Ruler, Omnipresent, Omniotherbigstuff, etc, etc.)

Only slightly less than dramatic than me is this song. Loving it awful.

Copyright © 2004-2007, Sherri Bailey
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Art said...

You said, "see my boobies" and, well...I got stuck there. What was this post about?

Sher said...

Boobies. It was all about boobies. Thank your for noticing them, btw.

Anonymous said...

Boobies, and live chicken sacrifice, or maybe even a goat.
Wow, you sure know how to get MY attention.

Annie is ready for you and Jami to come and "kick ass."
She would like to start with mine, but I told her you could not do that. Right?

Sher said...


Did you say live chicken or fried chicken sacrifice?

Tell Annie that Jami and I will start ticket shopping post haste. (You're not safe either, TSG.)

Jami said...

I don't have any chickens to sacrifice but I have acres of squirrels I'll be happy to usher into the next life.

Oh, and if I'm gonna be in any kind of cage death match, I can't go until I grow my nails out more ... both the finger and toe ones.

Anonymous said...

Nope, no cage. Nothing that fancy.
Just your regular bar fight that spills outside and turns into a parking lot free-for-all. You know.

Jami said...

Parking lot free-for-all? Will tire tools and/or baseball bats be provided or do I have to get my own out of my trunk? Or is this strictly a "run what ya brung" affair?

Anonymous said...

No weapons, but these guys are loggers, they all need an extra axe-handle or two behind the truck seat.
I just keep a pickroon handy.
The blunt side would smart, but the point..............

Sher said...


You are the first person ever to offer to sacrifice squirrels to appease me. That is precisely why I love you.


You're selling tickets, aren't you?

Flutterby said...

I am late to the party as usual but can we sacrifice asshole neighbors instead? It would serve the original purpose of the sacrificial act and also be doing a major community service at the same time... Around here squirrels are outside pets; we've got one living in a corner post and I named him Gumbo... just in case the kids aren't looking the next time I see him.

Sher said...

OK Flutter. I will allow the squirrel substitution.

Jami said...

Awww...although in the interest of transparency and complete honesty, I will admit that there is a component of self-interest in my willingness to help the little bushy-tailed tree rats to see heaven.

Flutterby said...

jami; sacrifice... gumbo... it all ends in the same place for the squirrel.

Jami said...

Yes, and it's definitely a better place ... than my back yard.

Alpha Dude 1.5 said...

We're still okay, right?

'Cause, you know how awesome I am.

Sher said...

I turn my back for one second and my readers are all set to put squirrels in a crock pot for fun and profit.


You're still awesome.

Flutterby said...

No... just for dinner Sher.

Jami said...

"Squirrel - it's not just for breakfast anymore."

"Squirrel - the other furry meat."