Dear Birthday Cookies;
Oh Birthday Cookies, how I love you. How you have brightened up my weekend. I've thanked my parents for dutifully making the awesome sugar and icing cookies that have delighted me for much of my childhood, but I don't think I've sufficiently thanked you, oh sugar cookies of awesomeness. You are splendid and awesome and everytime my mother makes me a batch, birthday related or no, there is always much quibbling between Fighting Nun and myself, about who has eaten the most and who deserves to eat the most. Oh sugar cookies, you are such a source of glee, and also such a source of marital discord.
Loves and Kisses;
The Bloody Munchkin
To the awesomely strange bar and all its patrons on First Street in Livermore;
The night before my birthday was pretty awesome. It's been awhile since I've had a really good rando conversation with people at a bar. Thanks for the interesting conversation, in which I found out that there are two Ocean Cities. One in NJ, one in Delaware, and that according to you, dear bar patron I'm sitting next to, are quite particular about your home town. Also, thanks for making us feel like regulars, even though we're not.
See ya for another pint some time soon;
The Bloody Munchkin
To the pottery place close to where our car was parked;
Not that I don't mind that you have a poster displaying a cat and a bunny in a rather compromising position. Actually, I'm very much the opposite of mind. I'm more amused than anything. But do you really think that a poster that could evoke such crude jokes from Fighting Nun and I is really appropriate for the pre-teen set? Maybe you want to evoke conversation about inter-species doggy style positions amongst the youngsters. Maybe you enjoy a subtle but not so subtle Broke-Back Mountain joke as much as the next person, but I don't know that your store front is the best place for such a statement.
Thanks for the tears of Mirth;
Bloody
To the strange wine dude at Winery Numero Uno;
Tone down the stange and needy. Please I'm begging you. I know we were your first patrons and all, and maybe you were a little rusty with things like, oh I don't know, conversation and customer interaction, but I'm telling you. Un! Comfortable! And I do not want to play the tasting game with my wine. No seriously. Stop asking "Can you taste the spices in this wine?" "Do you pick up the hint of plum?" Are these your only talking points regarding the wine you're selling, cause if they are, you might wanna work on your approach.
Please turn down the wierd;
The Bloody Munchkin
Dear the person who gave me a facial at the spa place;
It was a very enjoyable session but the thing is... Well you see.. It's just... You remind me of my cousin on the black sheep side of the family, and I really couldn't get over that fact the whole time. I hope you're not offended.
Sorry for the bad association;
The Bloody Munchkin
To the two cute girls working the counter at Winery Numero Dos;
To the girl with the little army cap on, thanks for not wearing a bra. Fighting Nun really enjoyed that. To the other girl, I am really envious of your hair. Like sincerely envious. If I could pull of that look I would. To both of you, thanks for the great conversation and being super cool and wishing me a happy birthday. Also, thanks for the awesome cheese and crackers.
Keep up the Cuteness;
The Bloody Munchkin
P.S. To the cute one with the cute hair, stop obsessing about the ex and his phone number. You're better than Zach. Don't ask me how I know. I can just tell.
To the Cafe where we had a super awesome lunch;
I have never had a stew that good before in my life. Delish I tell you. Delish. Although, it is partially to be blamed, I think, for my stunning pyrotechnics later in the day, it was still well worth it. And so was the prociutto. And so was, God help me, the olives. And I hate olives! But then you put them on an antipasto plate, depitted and with some bread and some cheese, and they are suddenly good. Which is bizarre.
You keep making that stew and I'll come back and eat it anytime;
BM
P.S. Please tone down the "audio scarecrow" noises that emenated from the adjoining vineyards. Not that I don't enjoy hearing the crow equivalant of the Jurassic Park Tyrannosaurus Rex versus the Velocarapters scene played out in grapevines in routine intervals every other minute, but it was just a bit odd. At first I thought it was the bird version of a death rattle, but then it was the same thing over and over, and I was afraid that someone was pummeling some bird who couldn't fly in the grapevines, which made me somewhat mortified. Thankfully, it was just an "audio scarecrow", but still. Yeesh. Not an appetizing sound is all.
To Winery Numero Tres;
Sorry about your welcome mat. And your rose bush. I... yeah, just sorry.
BM
To the woman sitting next to us during dinner;
Did I ask you what you were eating? Or drinking? Or about anything else? Then why did you insist for a play by play about our dinner? Yes it was nice. No we couldn't finish it. Sorry if that OFFENDS you and your completist sensibilities. Sorry if us ordering dessert also offended. Oh wait, no I'm not, because it's MY FREAKING BIRTHDAY and I can eat or not eat as much as I FREAKING WANT and I shouldn't have to justify my culinary choices to you, Mrs. Nosy McNosersons, just because you're sitting next to me. Why don't you try minding your own dinner next time.
BM
No comments:
Post a Comment