Throwing Poo

Another one from me. I really hope I win!

Dear Macaulay Culkin,

I have always wanted to touch you.
You have a cute little bottom.
You make me grab my crotch and scream.
You should become a Jehovah’s Witness.
Someday I will be a boy again.
You + me=Home Alone together.
If I saw you now I'd moonwalk across the floor to you.
I would build an amusement park just for you. Another one, I mean.
I would get your name tattooed on my nose, the one in the jar over the sink.
If I could sing you any song it would be Ebony and Ivory.
We could Beat It under the stars.
My love for you is like that of a disturbed, isolated manic-depressive with transgender issues and a pocket full of candy.

Love,
Michael Jackson

(P.S. Please don’t let anyone read this. People always seem to get the wrong impression of me and I’d hate for this to come back and bite me on the ass.)

Dear Internet,

I have always wanted to giraffe you.
You have a cute spatula.
You make me want to Chevrolet.
You should sparkplug.
Someday I will be able to klezmer music.
You + me = standard deviation.
If I saw you now I'd turkey sausage.
I would build you a ranch dressing hose just for you.
I would get your name tattooed on my pickle jar.
If I could sing you any song it would be chinchilla.
We could hammock under the stars.
My love for you is like that of a jar of coriander.
Love, ACW
P.S. Spackle.

Feels like a MadLibs kinda day...

Dear WASband.

I have always wanted to throttle the shit out of you.
You have a cute penis, and by cute I mean "cute as a bug," and by bug I mean scorpion.
You make me want to alternately spew chunks and take a flea dip.
You should quit jamming things into your pee hole; you've probably advanced to full phallus docking by now.
Someday I will be able to thoroughly forget you and your equally worthless family.
You + me = a nightmarish wet dream interrupted by AC/DC current.
If I saw you now I'd quickly walk up in front of you, then slow down, and squeak out a rancid hot & sour soup fart in your specific direction. Upwind.
I would build a spite fence topped with rusty razorblades just for you.
I would get your name tattooed on my taint, of course after I lose all ability to make any decisions for myself after a life altering stroke.
If I could sing you any song it would be "Fuck Her Gently," by Tenacious D. Whatever female you are with now doesn't deserve the shitstorm which will soon be on its way.
We could reminisce under the stars [about what our marriage could have been].
My love for you is like that of a praying mantis; let's get together for one last mating season so I can finish you off properly.

Love, The Person Formerly Known As Your "Everything, Extra Onions,"
P.S. I actually think I've recovered nicely from the abject poverty you and your selfishness thrust me into.

Dear Michelle,

I have always wanted to make a pig of you.
You have a cute way of pretending that you don't need me.
You make me want to run and hide.
You should look to something elso to fulfill your needs.
Someday I will be able to kill you.
You + me = a recipe for disaster.
If I saw you now I'd have to accept my fate.
I would build a giant brick wall around myself for you.
I would get your name tattooed across my top side.
If I could sing you any song it would be "Disease."
We could binge under the stars.
My love for you is like that of a co-dependent to an alcoholic.

Love, Cookies

P.S. Why the fuck didn't you buy any of me when you were at Subway earlier. Now it's 3 o'clock and you have nothing to snack on.

Dear Crunchy.

I have always wanted to spend 4 hours in coach with you.
You have a cute wrinkle to your face when you try and quietly pass gas.
You make me want to let you shove your ass in my face on the way to the can.
You should drink less before the flight.
Someday I will be able to have a row to myself.
You + me = sitting in terminal D.
If I saw you now I'd buy you a scotch.
I would build a nachos bellegrande just for you.
I would get your name tattooed on my wife.
If I could sing you any song it would be Bitchin Camero.
We could watch Battlestar Gallactica under the stars.
My love for you is like that of a wonky weasel.

Love, Monkey
P.S. I think I crapped myself.

Dear GWB.

I have always wanted to turn you off when you come on television.
You have a cute way of thinking you're right even when faced with overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
You make me want to crawl under a rock when I think about how you have damaged our relations with the international community.
You should go back to Texas.
Someday I will be able to say you aren't the president of my country.
You + me = 1 person with sense.
If I saw you now I'd stick a pencil in my eye.
I would build a movement to put you out of office just for you.
I would get your name tattooed on my worst enemy some night when I manage to get him drunk.
If I could sing you any song it would be 'I wanna be sedated'.
We could watch a lot of people get killed because of your poor decision making skills under the stars.
My love for you is like that of a housecat for bathing.

Love, Robin
P.S. I'm really looking forward to January of 2009.

Dear Mom.

I have always wanted to run away from you.
You have a cute way of looking at life--it's called denial.
You make me want to open a vein to prevent myself from evolving into you.
You should DO SOMETHING and quit blaming other people for how miserable your life is.
Someday I will be able to put all of your abuse behind me.
You + me = matches and napalm.
If I saw you now I'd get that funny, pre-puke, metallic taste in my mouth.
I would build a commode that you won't use, just for you.
I would get your name tattooed on my sphincter.
If I could sing you any song it would be Crazy by Gnarls Barkley.
We could fight like feral dogs under the stars.
My love for you is like that of a malingering miasma on a hot August day whafting from the sewage treatment plant.

Love, Your Daughter...
P.S. Suck it.