So it takes a while to dig through that shit and find something
Damn I'm tired.
In desperation, I had to pull out a letter from my girl Z and add it into my FLF post...trust me, she has a lot to say.
How dare you make a mockery of our love?? Just because your driver’s hand is covering most of the picture, DOES NOT mean that I don’t know what’s going on! How could you!? You told me he was just a friend and that, like a Ken doll, Brad had no penis. I can't believe I actually ran out and bought ...um...."tools" for our enjoyment! and even though Jake Gyllenhall enjoys it, the point of that purchase was for YOU. Not him. I do everything for YOU my love..risking even the wrath of Madonna for our love affair.(have you seen her biceps and vice like claws?..she's going to choke me out.)...and this is how you repay my devotion???
I’m putting my foot down! No more naked Angelina/Elaine Thursdays for you! No more Sexy Midget Mondays either! And you know what? I’m giving those "tools" to Jake! I'm sure him and Anderson Copper will appreciate it more than you!
Still hopelessly devoted,
I am all for stating and hearing opinions from liberals, conservatives, donkeys, hyenas, geishas, the guy who sits at 7-11 whose aroma can only be described as “urine-y”...really, say what you have to say...it's an opinion and who am I not to support stating ones opinions?
Howthefuckever, my beef with your ever growing fat ass is that you feel as if YOU’RE entitled to open your giant, Krispy Kreme, beaver-eating piehole and regurgitate whatever Michael Moore’s been whispering into your ear at the 24 hour buffet and that NO ONE ELSE should question you, challenge you or have a different opinion. Please note that I think Elisabeth Humpyourcrack is a crazy bitch, but at least she stood her ground knowing full well you can eat her with one bite. In fact, do us a favor, the next time someone dares challenge your opinion (which is obviously iron clad fact and how dare anyone question you??)….can you please cut the debate and just fucking eat them?
A: I KNOW you’re hungry.
B: you gnawing away on Elisabeth’s ass with a side of ranch would be much more entertaining and prevent you from actually talking.
Your voice makes me want to jab a pencil in your ear and swirl it around a little, in hopes that I can find the “Off” button.
Please shut thine mouth before I smother you with Donald Trump’s hairpiece.
And now…a word from my friend Z:
Hey ..its your girl Zahara..or as my grandpa likes to call me, Shakira.
God he’s an idiot…but I digress.
First things first, I wanted to write you a letter and let you know that moms and pops are hitting it on the downlow. I thought I would confirm to you that moms IS indeed cheating on you with pops. I kind of figured you would have caught on to that, given the fact that mom was pregnant and had my sister Shiloh, but I guess I overestimated your intelligence or maybe mom’s vajayjay really DOES has some type of hypnotic force. I mean, how else does mom get pops to sit in the bathroom and gaze at a 8x10 picture of her for hours while you two have your …..um…”weekly meetings” with that wierd toy that looks a lot like the leaning tower of Pisa...only it glows in the dark?
Damn. It’s all coming together now.
Anyways, don’t get played sister, moms already has her own “light saber” to play with… if you know what I’m saying! I’ll miss seeing mom dress you up as a lawn gnome and having her way with you but you have my cell number right? Call me. We’ll keep in touch.
Oh also, I’m working on my paparazzi face. I’m thinking an “Ice Cube rapper” scowl really works for me.
What do you think? Do you think scowling will get these paparrazzi bitches off my front porch? I mean, damn, what if I have a bad hair day? (as if!) or I’m just not in the mood to put on my face? I mean, look at Britney Spears! Okay, well we cannot blame THIS:
on the paparazzi, we really can't even blame it on K-Fed anymore….so who CAN we blame this mess on? Side effects from Cheetohs, Red Bull and Paxil? Bitch shops for her clothes at the Salvation Army dumpster and gets dressed in the dark.
I spoke to Sean P. the other day and, speech impediment or not, I KNOW he was desperately crying out for help. I would save him but I’m too busy at the house teaching Pax who's boss. I would hate to have to put a beat down on Pax like I did with Maddox. (Maddox is a stubborn bitch but he shut up real quick when a size T5 Dora The Explorer sneaker came flying at his ass. Let’s just say, Mad won’t be talking back to Z anymore. Recognize BIOTCH.)
Anyways girl, I could go on and on, but I’m sitting in my own filth because that French nanny they hired cannot change a diaper to save her life. So I gotta go stuff a crumpet up her ass and remind her that I’m a BRANGELINA baby and not some random brat that won’t kick her ass.
Because I will. Kick her ass.
Zahara is a bad ass. That’s all I have to say.
Have a great Memorial Day Weekend everyone! Don’t get caught up in traffic and get your pale ass a tan. Damn, you’re blinding me over here!