Dear . . .

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Dear graduating class,

How much fun did we have last week?  Way to be the 346th graduating class of one of the 10 oldest high schools in the nation – you’ve done us all proud.

Dear Cold,

Who gets a cold in June? Oh me. Awesome.

Dear food,

feel free to cook yourself this week. Seriously. Oh and laundry, while we’re at it, folding yourself would be key.

Dear BP,

While I’m getting a kick out of loading up the live feed from the spill every morning, enough is enough.  Also, blaming the sickness of the workers on food poisoning – f’in classy.  If the plan is to  be more evil than Haliburton, well you’re doing a good job on that one. High Five.

Dear Ray Allen,

um. I love you. I have since I was 16. Last night – 8 from behind the line . . . awesome. Oh and Doc – I’m not sure how you managed to coach with freakin’ Jack Nicholson an inch behind your ear all night – but good job anyhow.

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