A Letter

Dear Alyson,

You are a miserable failure. Do you remember in the beginning of April when you lied to everyone? Don’t even pretend to not know what I’m saying. You wrote in this very blog, I, Alyson, promise to blog every day in April.  Now do you remember?  Oh, yeah, you better remember.  And you thought you had all of us fooled, didn’t you?  11 days.  You wrote a blog for 11 days, heck, that’s almost half the month.  And then, you thought you could get away with just 11 days, not 12, not 13, certainly not all 30 days of April, but just 11 days of blogs.  What’s your problem?  Do you think we’re all stupid?  We know how to count.

And what’s worse than not even following BEDA through?  What’s worse is that you had all the material in the world to write about.  You know what I’m talking about.  You were in freaking London for a week in April.  You did so much stuff in London that you could have written about.  You could’ve talked about the London Tower and all the cool amour and things of Henry VIII you saw, or the block that Lord Lovat was executed on, or the delicious Indian restaurant you went to, or about the dress made out of bras you saw, or any of the other million things you did.  But noooooooooo.  You just write a dinky little piece the first day you get there and deprive the world on the rest of your adventures.  No, you know what?  No one wants to know what you did in London.  You fail.

And, and, on top of that, oh yeah, there is more… do you know what day it is?  It’s frickin’ May 24th.  May is almost bloody over, and you’ve been putting off yelling at yourself for not finishing BEDA.  BEDA ended on April 30, that’s 24 days ago.  You’ve been putting this off for 24 days.  Have you no shame?  To add insult to injury, you can’t even man up to your broken promises.  Not anymore, this ends today.  It is over.  You are over.  BEDA is over.  Game over.  Get over yourself.

Your better half.


3 thoughts on “A Letter

  1. You did better than me… I got less than a week in.

  2. But, really, it isn’t. I’m so good at not finishing things I start.

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