Letters to Juliet, Part 1

In the criminal justice system, internationally-based offenses are considered especially heinous. In One French City, the dedicated blogger who experienced these offenses has written some strongly worded letters to the deserving parties. These are those letters.

♬Dunh Dunh♬

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Dear Right Boot,

They aaalways come crawling back.

-Molly

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Dear Cave people who live on my floor,

I understand that you come from a simpler time when rocks were used as multi-purpose tools and your dinner would actively run away from you, but, and I shouldn't have to be the first one to tell you this, you live in a university dorm now. And we share a kitchen. So I don't mind if you drag your rotting mammoth carcasses all over the stovetop, but I don't want to have to deal with it 3 days later when my pot sticks to the burner. I know I can't expect too much from you, as you've just recently discovered fire, but please use this new discovery and cremate yourself because this is disgusting. It's not even that hard! If you clean up as you cook, then it doesn't even really feel like you're cleaning up at all! Unless you pour an entire pot of grey rice and carrot mush into the sink. Then it might feel like cleaning. There's just no avoiding that.

-Molly

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Dear 15 minutes,

I will never ever complain ever again that you aren't enough time to get from class to class. You are perfect just the way you are.

-Molly

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Dear Fan,

Keep doin' whatchoo doin.'

-Molly

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Dear Lentils,

I'm so sorry. I . . . I didn't mean to. I was just so hungry! And it was 10:30 at night! What else was I supposed to do?? You were the only edible thing I had left in my room. It seemed all right. How could I have known that you didn't taste good with mustard? I know it's not your fault. I shouldn't put that guilt on you. You meant well. You just wanted to give me nourishment. And I appreciate that. Which is why it pains me to say this.

I think we should take a break . . . a break from us. It's not you. It's me. And my gag reflex. I want to love you. I do. But I've never been more turned off of a single food item than I am right now. I even put off restocking my fridge because I knew it meant I would have to deal with your leftovers, and I just couldn't stomach that. That noxious murder-face-corpsy-pickle-death scent you emanate, it permeates everything. But, hey, let's look on the bright side. You've made me a better actress. Now, all I have to do is think about you, and I can vomit on command.

Thanks?

-Molly

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CREATED BY

Dick Wolf