Dear Favorite Jeans,
I know that you and my butt have been fighting for a while and I'm amazed that you've lasted this long. But the day I felt a breeze where I shouldn't, I knew your day had come and I wasn't ready. I'm not giving up on you Favorite Jeans so I've haphazardly stiched a jean patch (a patch of a darker color that kind of makes it look liked I peed) on you. I've talked to my butt and it said begrudgingly that it'll try take it easy on you. It'll try not to get bigger, but it can't promise it'll ease your burden and get smaller; it may just maintain. Hold strong tiny worn threads, I believe in you.
Love,
Sarah
posted by Walking Into Pictures @ 11:32 AM
5 Comments:
Jeans: So basically it looks like you're just looking to maintain.
Sarah: Yeah, pretty much.
Jeans: But...uh...didn't you say you were an actress?
Sarah: First of all, I'm an actor. Second of all, you're a pair of jeans. Not every actor wants to be stick thin, stop perpetuating stereotypes, this is the reason I gave up rag mags, ripped jeans. Did I mention you're a pair of ripped jeans? Cause you are.
I would never yell a those jeans. Even if they called me an actress.
the thought of Sarah having a conversation with her own butt makes me laugh.
ha ha ha.
(that's me laughing)
i miss you.
Your jeans and my jeans must be distant relatives, or 2nd cousins perhaps. My theory is that they have both fallen victim to the dark and evil pants-shrinker, who comes when you're sleeping and shrinks your pants.
It happens on nights when you eat pizza and ice cream. Beware of the pants-shrinker.
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