Category Archives: emails

Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you

The thing I like the best about You Life is how aggressively I can neglect it, and yet whenever I need You Life it’s always right there waiting for me. Like a Richard Marx song. I don’t know what this says about me, but I think it’s bad: both the deep appreciation of how much I adore the opportunity to neglect that which I love, and my knowledge of Richard Marx songs. (I could sing all the hits).

you life richard marx

Along with my love of soft rock, which is no secret, it’s also no secret that I eat like a candy beast human landfill teeming with cookies and cream hazelnut spread (by Jif) .

you life collage

I’m real gross. A few weeks ago, I texted my best friend letting him know that I had to pause over whether or not I was going to eat a chocolate glazed doughnut off of brick retaining wall near a car dealership. And this is not the first time I’ve had to ask for guidance about finding sweets on the ground

you life starburst

Considering my garbage status of trash human, it didn’t totally surprise me that someone (WHO HAS YET TO COME FORWARD AND WILL NOT OWN THIS) signed me up for Diabetes Self-Management. At first I thought this was weirdly accurate SPAM. But after further investigation this appears to be some sort of email blast that you have to sign up for which provides healthy eating tips and recipes. Either in an act of self-care I signed up for this while black out drunk (not impossible), or someone signed this up for me out of concern (less likely), or someone signed me up for this as a hilarious response to my terrible eating habits (most likely).

you life diabetes

Along with my love of food that is mostly comprised of a triumph of food chemistry and the sugar industry, I am fucking WILD about salt. Ohhhhhhhhh motherfucker. I keep salt with me everywhere. I carry salt packets in my purse, and whenever I check anything that has a pocket there will be salt packets in there too, and I keep an individual canister of Morton’s salt at my desk at work.

you life salt

As a result, I am unsurprised that along with a specter signing me up for diabetes care newsletters that salt has taken a more aggressive stance in my life and has started to email me directly. From now on, I look forward to continuing this correspondence with Salt.

salt you life 2

 

Welcome Salt, join my inbox with the emails about my impending diabetes and how to manage it and my desk with a canister of you at the ready. It’s nice to take our relationship to the next level. And I look forward to being able to adore you and neglect you – just like I do to You Life and soft rock. My whole heart, mi amore.

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Filed under cooking, emails, food, music

Does someone have something to tell me?

This was a surprising email to receive:
you life child

It’s surprising for a few reasons :

  1. Do I have a secret child that is wandering the earth looking for my parental approval? Juliet, know that mama is proud of you and that I appreciate your email.
  2. That any child of mine would be good at math. Not only would they be good at math, but that they would be proactive enough to actively improve their math skills independently – like it’s something that they want.
  3. Are you sure you’re mine, Juliet?

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It’s been a long time (long time), we shouldn’t of left you (left you), Without a dope beat to step to

I make an alarming number of Timbaland references.

Anyway. For my horrible job I have long interviews with crazy people and then write websites based off of their bizarre delusions. During the interview, I have to fill out long, long questionnaires with their rambling verbal deliriums.

Since the world is ending following a racist bottle of orange Crush being named our president-elect, it’s timely that one of the websites would include something about arming babies for a baby militia. I’m assuming that’s what’s going on here:

baby-militia Also, blenders.

Who wants to make “arm the babies” shirts for You Life?

 

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Cataloging Custom for You [Life]

I used to work for a legitimate crazy person at her home office, which is a horse of different color. But one day these two super-hot dudes came to her door and said they were selling books. So instantly suckered into their little web of deceit, my boss and I bought like $45 worth of books. Fun side note, the grimier one of the dudes gave me his number in case I needed my, “lawn trimmed” (his words, not mine).

After six months, it became apparent that two jerk-offs ripped off an old (crazy) lady and a young girl. No books appeared. However, I did start receiving a subscription to Gourmet Magazine that I never requested or paid for.

Because sometimes the universe rewards you by being ripped off by someone who you thought was flirting with you with a magazine that you’ve never been interested in, used, or really read. And then it further rewards you by sending you William Sonoma catalogues for two years following, assumedly because of it.  Thanks, universe!

And something similar happened to my best friend Shawn recently:

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Do I have any suggestions for my job?

Do I have any suggestions for the company I work for?

Do I have any suggestions for the company I work for?

As it turned out I did have a suggestion for them:
job suggestions 2

Second suggestion, go fuck yourself.

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THE BEST DAY OF MY [you] LIFE!

I once updated about my undying love for White Russian. Here .  And maybe, just maybe, I also wrote another sorta intense letter that can be found here .

And today I got this in my email:

Thank you Jesus, and Ben & Jerry

Thank you Jesus, and Ben, & Jerry

I would like to think that this is solely because of my determination. And emails. And letters. The trip up there to mourn at the graveyard.  And threats.

So thanks for taking notice Ben and Jerry, it had been too long.

And in case you thought I was exaggerating, this is a real life exchange:
white russian thank god

You’re welcome fellow White Russian fans.

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Class acts are directed right here

And once again, these are the search engine terms that direct people to this blog:

such tales are great classic. My masturbation tale the most so. KINDREDS

such tales are great classics. My masturbation tale the most so.

KINDRED!

Which refers to this
And for the record, my coming of age (no pun intended) story of wanking off has generated an unusual amount of hits. Thanks Daniel Defoe!

And this person who was looking for an awful lot out of their chips:

my chips didn't vibrate but you can go to 7-11 for the second best option

my chips didn’t vibrate but you can go to 7-11 for the second best option

Which refers, of course, to this

Thanks for visiting, whoever you are, you made my week.

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