When You Care Enough To Send The Very Best, Don't Call Me.

So it seems that as of late our best-est cousin Steph has had quite a run of bad luck. Really.....bad luck of near biblical proportions. If she called me tomorrow and told me that she were swarmed by locusts I would not at all be surprised.

I spoke with her in depth not too long ago in the midst of another really bad day. Of course I was driving around with the Spawn-Of-Satan Unicorns in the back of my car while talking to her

[ Side note to Mumbles Mile here; Yes I drive and talk at the same time all the time and no..I still do not have a Bluetooth. I wanna get a Bluetooth...I really do. I just cannot seem to find the time to drag my ass to the cell phone store or Best Buy or any place else for that matter to acquire that type of technology. Sorry. I know how nuts it makes you when I drive and talk.
I KNOW...DON"T GIVE ME THAT LOOK !!! ]

and I'm all like " Honey, you wanna talk about a bad freakin' day ! ". But I didn't go there.....her Oprah-worthy drama trumped my mite-infested Unicorn dilemma.

I felt that I needed to do something to cheer her up. So I thought and thought and thought about what it would take to bring a smile to this face;

I realize that this picture does not speak to her being the owner of an eyewear boutique. Just believe me when I say that her sense of comedic irony runs as deeply as yours truly. Really, I think it's perhaps why we treasure each other to the degree we do.

At any rate, as I was saying......what could I do to make her a wee bit happier or maybe, just maybe, make her forget about whatever it was that was causing the exponential increase in her Vodka bills.

A Hallmark Card ?

Meh. Been There Done That.

Flowers ?

Yawn.

Candy ?

Not for the OG Whole Foods Shopper.

No. No. No. None of these would do. So then as it does, genius struck.

COMEDY ! That shit lasts for.ev.er. Yes ! Comedy ! Laughing ! Laughing is good !

So I bought her a book. Then I wrote her a letter. And with her express verbal permission I am posting the letter I wrote her here. Now please keep in mind that I do not ascribe to any of the tenants which I have written about in the succeeding letter. This is purely a piece of literary art was intended as such.

12 May 2009
Lamb,

I started thinking that letter writing was a lost art form so as I sit here polishing off an ice cream cone for dinner ( yes, I admit my dietary habits are atrocious - I won‘t even try to paint my eating habits, or lack thereof, in a positive light. When I‘m on Lipitor at 38 then you can say “ I told you so. “. Until then, just take solace in knowing that in this instance clearly you are a better person than I. Why am I eating an ice cream cone for dinner you ask? Because I‘m over 30 and I can. ), I thought I would take this time to channel my inner Bill and pontificate a bit.

It pained me considerably to hear the tales of unpleasantness and nefarious type acts that have recently plagued you. You sounded so pathetic when I spoke with you that well…..I just had to start drinking enough for both of us. Remember, that which does not kill you only makes you self medicate more aggressively. I guess into every life a little malfeasance must fall, but your recent woe-is-me existence is just total bullshit. You’re way too hot to be dealing with shit of this magnitude.
I thought I would try to give you a “ pick me up “ of sorts.
These are the new “After 30 Rules. “. Here goes;

Since you are over thirty I wanted to let you know that it is now perfectly acceptable to tell people to “ Go Fuck Themselves “. Really, I’m giving you permission to do so as you see fit, as often as and to whomever you please.
Although you should probably also know that “ Go Fuck Yourself “ can come in a myriad of forms….why just this week I told a middle-aged man in a Acura sitting next to me in traffic that he had a little dick. And it felt really good.

Hand gestures are also of acceptable use at this point in your life. Flip people off at random to desensitize yourself from the shock of it. Perhaps you may want to start with folks sporting McCain / Palin bumper stickers on their cars. Although in most instances these people are mentally retarded and well, one-finger saluting a retard is just bad karma. We may need to rethink this one. At any rate, giving someone the bird will soon be as natural as breathing or masturbating. You can even make up hand gestures of your own. Of course they won’t have any specific etiology, but the receiver of these meaningless gestures will think they must mean something and will be offended just the same. I’m calling this “ Offense with little effort or forethought “.

By now you should also be enjoying making total strangers uncomfortable. Take public transportation for no real reason other than to tell the person sitting next to you about your recent colonoscopy VERY LOUDLY AND IN GRAPHIC DETAIL. You’ll find that watching people scoot away from you with a slightly pained look on their face will fill you with an unexpected glee.

I’m sure you’ve been onto this for a while, but embarrassing your children can be quite rewarding as well. Although I have no children, I find that embarrassing my parents is equally rewarding. I’m sure the fact that I know a cross-dresser who dates a lesbian has shaved at least three years off my parent’s lives. I admit I get some sort of sick thrill out of watching them squirm, but I really regale them with the ridiculous but entirely true tales of my existence to make up for the indentured servitude I was forced to endure as a child…..but I digress.
Dance in the grocery store. Roll down the windows in the car and sing “ Wind Beneath My Wings “ loudly and off key while at red lights. Change your ring tone to Biz Markie’s
“ Just A Friend. “. Pretty soon those beautiful children of yours will be looking for alternate transportation to social functions and / or school events…..freeing you up for more drinking time. It’s a win-win all around if you ask me.

I guess it’s time for us to have “ the talk “ now…..you know S-E-X. “ Freaky & Frequently “ should be your mantra. I would suggest a hot pink, bobbed style wig ( for you….I don’t think hot pink is really your Husband's color….he‘s a Winter you know) and a crop for starters. Develop an alternate personality, perhaps named “ Sasha “. Remember to stay away from latex - it can irritate like a drunk in-law. Believe me on this one, I speak from experience to both parts of that equation.
Anal beads are a nice touch as well, but I would recommend that you at least take your husband out for dinner and a movie first. It’s been my experience that men need a little buttering up and copious amounts of alcohol before you “ bottom “ them.
And remember the three words that everyone likes to hear…….LUBE. LUBE. LUBE.

Unleashing your inner Diva should also be on the top of your To-Do list. You’re hot. You know it and so should everyone else. The more you spend on grooming and your wardrobe will get you into heaven faster. I find that pretending you are the star of your own reality show is the best way to achieve the swagger you‘ll need to accomplish this. Think
“ The Real Housewives of Golden Valley. “ . Although in your case it’s probably more like “ The Real Civil Union Men of Golden Valley. “ .
Sleeping until noon is also a must. You do need your beauty sleep after all, and your lack of available parenting will only teach your children to become more self-reliant. Again, another win-win.
I recently read an article with a high-powered female executive who stated something to the effect of;

“ When you’re in your twenties you are obsessed with looking older and having others take you seriously. When you’re over thirty you just want to look hot. “

So very true. This is a fully self-realized woman.

Every Diva has a few must-haves that need to be available 24/7. A great pair of panty hose, a tube of concealer, the perfect red lip stick, the number to a great restaurant on speed dial and a credit card her husband doesn’t know about.

In summation, I hope this little “ Pick Me Up “ made you smile and have a giggle or two. I hope you find a certain amount of freedom within the new “ After 30 Rules “.

And if I’ve not done what I had set out to do by writing you this letter and have left you largely befuddled, just remember that I love you. Even if you do hate IKEA.

XO
Me

And I included a personalized second part;

Please accept this small token of my affection. I felt that given your prior experience with the Thanksgiving house guests from hell I thought you’d find the enclosed gift amusing. I especially liked the chapter on alcoholics - hits close to home, you know ? As Brock would say, I think this will “ get you right in your wheelhouse. “ .

At any rate, have I told you that I now possess a Rhode Island drivers license ? I guess this means that I now have a license to sound largely unintelligent when I speak, dress like I’ve shopped the clearance rack at K Mart and develop poor driving habits. Having lived in the Ocean State for a time I now realize why people hate Americans.
I guess you now possess a license to bitch and moan. Go ahead, you’ve certainly earned it. And if anyone gives you any shit at all, tell them to call me. My verbal kung-fu skills are razor sharp these days.

We miss you terribly. Time and distance can be cruel mistresses, no ? As I have stated previously, you are always welcome here - you are Brock’s “ sister “ after all.

So that’s it. I hope this package finds you well - and sober for the most part.

I am pleased to report that she enjoyed this very much. Very Much. I think she might have even laughed.

And lets all Welcome my newest reader...the aforementioned Bill - my brother-in-law. Yep, the Sharp Dressed Man Bill. That one. OK...one...two....three.....all together now.....

" HI BILL !!! "

Well....that is all I have for tonight.

XO

Bunny