Dear ebay, If it won't cover even my teeny tiny arse, it isn't a dress, and it should'nt come up when I type in the word "dress".
Dear ebay, you know what I really hate? I really hate 60 repeats of exactly the same freaking listing.
Dear fly, you know what I really hate? You.
Dear donuts, I love you forever and ever and ever this much. No, even more than that.
Dear v key, it's really annoying how you're being a poobum and not working most of the time and I have to keep going back and putting "v"s into every "eery"
Dear milk, I wish I could trust you in the same way I trust water, but I don't. You'e been sitting there for a half hour now, I need to pour you down the sink and replace you. But thankyou for tasting good with my donuts.
Dear whoever came up with calling a one-piece bathing suit a "monokini" - I hope you die a slow and painful death.
Dear sliced chicken meat, I hope you weren't old and yucky, and that my tummy is hurting now from the two big glasses of apple juice making it too full and not from you being off.
Dear nose, it's times like this I wish you worked.
Dear apple fabric I picked for my next bag, you are very pretty. But I'm struggling to think of a good way to make your 2 inch directional print look good without having to lose chunks of it into seams.
Dear leg, please stop being itchy.
Dear electric blanket, you do for my whole body what chocolate donuts do for my tongue. I love you too.
Dear Taylor Swift (the car, not the person), I promise I will get you petrol tomorrow.