I adore Stephanie. How to Survive Life in the Suburbs, was one of the first blogs that I ever started to follow and I loved her “Passive Aggressive Letters” so much that I would HOUND her for more. I introduced myself to Steph at Blissdom Canada, and I will never forget the conversation we had. She was incredibly candid with me, and I will forever be thankful for it. Thanks friend.
A tradition at How To Survive Life In The Suburbs, the Passive Aggressive Letter…with Love of course. Today for my dear friend Kyla at Mommy’s Weird, a hodge podge of some of my favourite letters that clearly explain one thing, I do not understand people.
Dear Tim Horton’s Customer,
At the Tim Horton’s coffee shop, there is a certain protocol one must follow. It is quite simple really. When you walk in the door, you go and get in line. You line up at the BACK of the line. You do not wave your skinny Lululemon clad ass and think this is somehow a pass to the front. I for one am unimpressed. Okay I was a little bit impressed, but not enough to let you get your coffee before me and the 70 year old gent who held the door open for me.
Yep, People Can Still Surprise Me
Dear Sweet Girl Helping Us Out In The Tile Store,
Yes. You have boobs. All girls do. Yours do happen to be exceptionally large. This is not something that I usually find overly distracting. Today however, I felt like a dude. I could not stop looking at your boobs! A little advice from one babe to another. When you work in a great big cold building, and have great big boobs, and one of those boob points east and the other points west, it might be better if you put on a bra. A good one.
The Girl Who May Have Talked To Your Boobs. (Sorry)
Dear Single Guy -Sitting Beside Me At The Movies,
Oh Sweetie. Didn’t your Mommy ever tell about a little thing called the shower? If you knew about this glorious invention and the added benefit of deodorant my experience last night would have been so much more pleasant. Every time you lift your arm to grab some popcorn I gag. Each time the air kicks in I’m forced to plug my nose. You see dear, this is probably why your date didn’t show up last night. She didn’t know how to tell you the embarrassing news…you smell.
Girl choking on your B.O.
Stephanie is a happily married Mama of two who is equally addicted to social media and travel. Writing about everything from day trips to hotel stays, embarrassing moments to covering the Red Carpet at the GRAMMYs you can always find your weekly dose of reality at How To Survive Life In The Suburbs!