To The Pringles In My Bottom Desk Drawer:

E-mail this post

Remember me (?)

All personal information that you provide here will be governed by the Privacy Policy of More...

I am not ignoring you, I love you very much. I do not hate you, I adore everything you represent. I am not upset or angry at you, save the fat you add to my already ample thighs, but I believe it is time to call for a time-out in our relationship.

In fact, I have not been involved with you ALL DAY. I have looked at you, I have gazed adoringly at you, but I have also continually reminded myself that I am not allowed to even venture into that dangerous territory. For those reasons, I am avoiding taking your lid off and sniffing you.

Yes, sniffing.

You see, Dear Pringles, I am not allowed to eat anything, NOT JUST YOU. I am to drink saltwater and this concoction of cayenne pepper, maple syrup, lemon juice and water (that looks frighteningly like bile). This is healthy, this is good for me. It will give me radiant skin and the ability to actually appear at the beach this year.

Do not fret, Dear Pringles, I will be back before summer is over. In fact, I will be back in a mere twenty days.

But for now, it is farewell.

0 Responses to “To The Pringles In My Bottom Desk Drawer:”

Leave a Reply

      Convert to boldConvert to italicConvert to link


This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


ATOM 0.3