A Dozen Long Stem What?
Check this out. Dipshit (not his real name) sent me a dozen carnations. Carnations? What's up with that? Who sends carnations? I'm not your freaking mother. (I'm also not your girlfriend, but I digress.)
Look, Dipshit (Really, it is not his real name) there's a reason that roses are so closely associated with love. Not only are they are beautiful flowers, but they also have thorns. And note that the beauty of the flowers makes the thorns seem like minor inconveniences, just as the love between two persons make the sacrifices seem trivial. Get it? Furthermore, the flowers start out as little buds, then spread and grow more beautiful as the pedals separate, just as love grows more beautiful with time. Like us, only not. Get it? Thank God I'm not bitter. That would only make things worse.
Look, Dipshit (Really, it is not his real name) there's a reason that roses are so closely associated with love. Not only are they are beautiful flowers, but they also have thorns. And note that the beauty of the flowers makes the thorns seem like minor inconveniences, just as the love between two persons make the sacrifices seem trivial. Get it? Furthermore, the flowers start out as little buds, then spread and grow more beautiful as the pedals separate, just as love grows more beautiful with time. Like us, only not. Get it? Thank God I'm not bitter. That would only make things worse.
posted by Julene | 10:17 AM
3 Comments:
I sat at the table staring at the envelope for half an hour. I wondered whether to read it; wondering if there was anything he could have written that would have changed my mind. I left the envelope there, unopened, overnight.
I read it yesterday out of curiosity. It was predictable BS, and it didn't change my point of view.
Carnations?
Sounds like someone was too cheap to step up and get the roses.
RWA, I prefer to think of him as too stoopid and too cheap.
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