So, one of my students parents just emailed this joke to me...and all I could think of was that Spacie must have written it
MR. JAMES THATCHER,
BRAND MANAGER,
PROCTER & GAMBLE.
Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your Always maxi pads for over 20 years,
and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core
(tm) or Dri-Weave(tm) absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback
riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up
and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has
to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos, on being the only company
smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be
aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month
knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered
from "the curse"? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my "time of the
month" is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal
forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now,
my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes
to call "an inbred hillbilly with knife skills." Isn't the human body
amazing?
As brand manager in the feminine-hygiene division, you've no doubt
seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your
customers' monthly visits from Aunt Flo. Therefore, you must know about
the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense
mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behaviour. You surely
realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my
friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's
testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he
thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just
crawling with homicidal maniacs in capri pants. Which brings me to the
reason for my letter.
Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to
reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi
pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words:
"Have a Happy Period."
Are you f#$%king kidding me?
What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain
really think happiness-actual smiling, laughing happiness-is possible
during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least
bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of
sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything "happy" about a day
in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlúa and lock
yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local
Walgreens armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your
life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, pull your head out, man.
If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it
make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like "Put
Down the Hammer" or "Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong"? Or are you just
picking on us?
Sir, please inform your accounting department that, effective
immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have
chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will
certainly miss your Flexi-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your
brand of condescending bullshit. And that's a promise I will keep.
It's official!! I'm getting married September 28, 2007!!
On the LL front: I'm going to court today to sit with and support a friend while the guy who killed her son in a drunk driving accident is sentenced.
And my GF is enraged with me for actually being honest in last night's couples counseling session. She thinks that telling the counselor my view of the way she spends her money amounts to "character assassination."
Maybe I should come to hell with you, spacie. I might have a better time there than I'm going to have on earth today.
Well, in her defense, she's never been to counseling before in her entire more-than-40 years of life. She doesn't understand yet that the point of telling this crap to a third person is to have that person referee and provide an objective view.
I stepped in dog shit approx. 10 seconds after waking this morning. I had to train someone for my job, yesterday, in case I should want to be sick or something. Blah.
You cannot make another post so soon after your last; please try again in a short while.
Bagged, tagged, sold to the butcher at the store.
Well, I'm back from court. The judge gave the killer of my friend's son Ronald a slap on the wrist: he'll serve less than a year in jail. Even though, when he hit Ronald's car (which wasn't moving) from behind, he was going so fast that the front of his car went all the way up inside Ronald's car and severed Ronald's spine.
The "justice" system in this country is disgusting.
I feel sorriest for Judy and her husband. They're raising Ronald's little girl Jazmine, who was two when he died (she's six now, which shows how long it took for this case to get to the sentencing phase). She asks almost every night why God won't let her daddy come back to her.
Judy said that Jazmine wanted to come to court today. "Why do you want to do that?" Judy asked. Jazmine said: "I want to see him. I want to see the man who took my daddy away and ask him why."