SelfAbsorbed.ME : ‘It’s Your Life, We Just Write it Funnier’

Dear Women’s Health;

Fuck you. I am sick of you telling me what to do every month. You arrive in my mailbox just to prove to me what a lazy slob I am according to your female “experts”. Who the hell are these women who eat granola every day, run five miles, drink ten gallons of water and use “herbal” supplements to cure their cramps? Fuck you for not suggesting a good handful of Paxil and a cigarette or two with a glass of wine as way to cure…um…everything.

Dear Megan McAllister;

Fuck you for being such a dumb blonde bitch. Your fiance Philip Markoff had an entire round of sex ads on craigslist under the name sexaddict5385. How many pints of bleach have seeped into the scalp of yours to not notice your man taking nude pictures of himself and sending those photos to other men over the Internet and leaving on weekends to tie up girls and steal their panties? You are an insult to blonde women everywhere…and the entire state of New Jersey for that matter.

Dear  Subway Backpack Users;

Fuck you for not taking that thing off your back and putting it on the ground while you ride the subway. Do you think it’s cool that your huge LLBean tote is right in my face and uses about enough space for three more small women to fit in the car? Is it that big of a deal to take that thing OFF YOUR BACK and hold it in your hands, providing an entire four more feet of room for me to move around in?

Dear Makers of Toaster Strudel;

Fuck you for only having two settings; still frozen inside, or hot enough to burn calluses into my hands.

Dear  David Gray;

Fuck you for only writing songs that make me cry.

Dear James Blunt;

Ditto.