It's time.

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of reading on a blog called Passive Aggressive Notes. It’s about…well…passive aggressive notes. One, I feel like it’s extremely hilarious. I guess some people don’t really know that they’re so passive aggressive. But also, I feel like EVERYONE is passive aggressive. We always try to be fastidious and careful not to hurt other’s feelings, but really, we’re all just submissive. So I decided to make my own passive aggressive notes. I’m sorry if you feel these are about you. I’m trying to be as “anonymous” as I can. But really, how anonymous can one be on the internets.

Dear Bartender with a really small shirt that you only wash once a year,
I’m really happy that we’re friends. Because of you, I can bring in underage friends and get free drinks. But seriously, if you hug me one more time with your bad BO I will scream. I don’t understand how one can smell so foul. Sometimes when you put your arm around me, you leave a scent on my shoulder. And when you leave, I can still SMELL your aroma on my fucking shirt. It almost makes me gag. Then people think I can’t handle my alcohol, but really, it’s because I can’t stand the whiff of ghastly stench coming from my shirt. I now keep fresh shirts in my trunk just in case I want to maybe get laid. God knows you aren’t helping me out…

Dear “Love of my life” that really doesn’t give a fuck about me,
I’m sick of falling into this gruesome circle of loving and hating you. Don’t get me wrong, because of you, I’ve done the biggest leap of faith I could possibly do and I have never been happier. BUT. And this is a big BUT. You continue to tie me around your finger and make me sad. Then happy again. Then sad again. Oh wait! Now happy. And so on and so forth. I love you. But I really need to get over you. You will no longer control me in every aspect of my life, including who I have fallen for. Because now, that person has insecurities and refuses to lay an ounce of trust on me. You’re killin me Smalls.

Dear New Love of my life that also doesn’t give a fuck about me,
Please make a decision. And please make the right one. Don’t go back to d-bag. It’s not worth it. I know you’re scared, but I’m scared too. I don’t really know how to really tell you how I feel, and it sucks. I’m not good at this, but I want to be. And I want to be good with you. Don’t break my heart. I don’t know what I’ll do if you do. And don’t tell me “I can’t.” Because that doesn’t exist. If you feel something, you feel something. End of story. Let’s do this finally.

Dear old best friend,
I think you are being extremely insincere. You and person in previous note should get together and discuss how you are tearing us at the seams. I hope you realize what you’re doing. I have nothing but faith in you (always have), but really? You’re being extremely well, lame. He’s a good guy. He deserves the best. So before you do whatever the fuck you’re going to do/before you make any more excuses—be the best. Because he deserves it.

Dear friend that totally peaced when I needed you the most,
I’ve always wanted to tell you that it really hurts that I told you my biggest secret and you walked away. Because of that, you deserve the biggest FUCK YOU award ever. I hope your husband comes out of the closet in 10 years.



Fuck I feel better.