open letters

An open letter to Small Child

Dear Small Child,

You are not bigger than me, you are not better than me, and you are so not smarter than me.

I am six and a half feet tall. Six foot six inches. To give you some perspective, you know your Bob the Builder doll that for some insane reason is your favorite toy? Well, stack thirteen Bobs on top of each other and I'm still taller. You can't count to thirteen, but trust me when I say it's a big number.

Let's talk about weight now. I fluxuate between 230 and 280 pounds. You weigh 45.8 pounds--and that's with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in your stomach. I could gain or lose your weight with ease. Just give me a few months.

You cannot destroy me, even if you use your Dark Magician card in attack mode.

If you keep bragging about beating me at Tic Tac Toe, then we might have to have a rematch for all the marbles (and I mean this literally). Oh, and when we tied at Go Fish? Yeah, I gave you two turns to my one and never once asked for cards I knew you had after you showed me because your hands are too small to hold six mini cards.

Guess what? I can wipe my own booty. I also brush my own teeth, too, by the way, but there's no need to show off.

And don't think you can pull anything on me. Your tricks are old hat. You're too full for more sandwich, but you'll be glad to partake of a half dozen cookies? No doubt. And the way you shut your eyes tightly to make me think you're sleeping isn't fooling anyone. I'm like Santa. I know when you're awake. I know when you've been bad or good so if you don't pipe it down up there I'm gonna come up and make you sorry for goodness sake.

I'd like to add a couple numbers to the list of those you don't know: 98, 19. The first is the year you were born. The second is how old I was that year. Don't try to play me for a fool, 'cause this fiddle don't got no notes for you.

Make a note that the correct grammar is "because this fiddle doesn't have any notes for you." Grammar, what's that? Daddy's mommy? No. You'll find out when you've lived another five years. Until then, remember: you are not bigger than me, you are not better than me, and you are so not smarter than me.

Sincerely,
Adam DuVander


Comments

TonyGuitar says...
Hi Adam, I left you a note under 'Big mean Bank' Excellent site, Adam, I'll return when more time allows....73s


Adam says...
Dear Everyone Who Reads My Site, fudge you. And while you're at it fudge your mothers too. fudge all of you and fudge right off too. I think you all suck. So, fudge off! Sincerely, Adam


jane says...
Ex partner, I gave you nearly ten years of my life and a wonderful child I tried really hard to please you and stop your rages and cruelty. In the end I fled with our small child to hostels and poopy flats with no money nothing. Its been fudgeing hard raising our child alone I have no family just my child but fudge you Ive done it I live in a nice home with nice things my health is bad through the stress I went through with you but Im far from dead yet. So how dare you demand anything from me you raving nutter your child hates you and you scratch your head on why, when we lived with you her mum couldn't lift her up properly as her arms where always so bruised I cryed and trembled most of my days with you. How grateful I had to be because I had a roof over my head how grateful I had to be for your company how grateful I had to be for you mighty presence and all the time I was forced to go through the motions of how amazing you where all that was going on in my head is what a sick ugly prick you where. HA HA The human spirit can not be forced inwardly to do jack shoot. How dare you freak come into our lives or phone my child how dare you cry about yourself to my child how dare you blame your repulsive knobby behaviour on me. fudge off back under your rock and await the nightmare of where your creepy mind will take you in old age as you sold your soul many years ago with the first taste of fear in your enjoyment of brutality "rot in hell".


jane says...
Ex partner, I gave you nearly ten years of my life and a wonderful child I tried really hard to please you and stop your rages and cruelty. In the end I fled with our small child to hostels and poopy flats with no money nothing. Its been fudgeing hard raising our child alone I have no family just my child but fudge you Ive done it I live in a nice home with nice things my health is bad through the stress I went through with you but Im far from dead yet. So how dare you demand anything from me you raving nutter your child hates you and you scratch your head on why, when we lived with you her mum couldn't lift her up properly as her arms where always so bruised I cryed and trembled most of my days with you. How grateful I had to be because I had a roof over my head how grateful I had to be for your company how grateful I had to be for you mighty presence and all the time I was forced to go through the motions of how amazing you where all that was going on in my head is what a sick ugly prick you where. HA HA The human spirit can not be forced inwardly to do jack shoot. How dare you freak come into our lives or phone my child how dare you cry about yourself to my child how dare you blame your repulsive knobby behaviour on me. fudge off back under your rock and await the nightmare of where your creepy mind will take you in old age as you sold your soul many years ago with the first taste of fear in your enjoyment of brutality "rot in hell".


adam-d says...
I just want to let everyone know that I would blow any man for free. Please contact me at adam@duvander.com if you want to meet up in the Portland area, or heck, anywhere at all. I want it that bad. No, I need it


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