I love you. You know I do. I’d give any of you the clothes off my back, my last square of dark chocolate. I’d stay up all night doing your laundry and prepping your meals all week.

Did you laugh on that last part? The cooking thing? Yeah, I snorted wine out my nose as I was writing it.

Okay but the point is, I love you.

However (you knew there was going to be a but didn’t you? And the show Friends has taught us that However is just a fancy But…), if any of you take my brand new headphones, made specially for those of us who need music while we’re torturing ourselves by running or skipping or walking and telling everyone we’re running, I’m going to have to cut you.


Oh you want to know why. Holy shit, they’re serious. They don’t know why. Okay, well I present to the court, Exhibit A:



You thought I had a picture, didn’t you? But I don’t. I don’t have a picture. All I have is the white noise of our stupid town as I run because one of you took my black Sony Sports ear buds and left them on the couch and the dog ate them.

Exhibit B: (still no picture) One of you people who supposedly loves me took my smaller, less awesome, regular ear buds and left them in your pocket so that I washed them. Then you laughed at me for trying them out anyway. Static. Just static, static, static.

Exhibit C: (I really am going to start taking pictures of everything that gets ruined in this house for the sole purpose of putting them on blog posts) Another Sports-type ear bud deal that has one ear-loopedy-loo thing snapped in half, that I try to muddle through with. If you see a crazy woman running (okay jogging)… (FINE WALKING) and cussing while she keeps trying to push her one ear bud into her left ear repeatedly because if she jiggles the slightest bit it pops out, yes folks, that’s me. Don’t laugh at me. My family apparently has a vendetta against ear buds that aren’t deformed.

And so, I give you, my loving family, Exhibit D:


This is me, looking like a dork, wearing my brand new ear buds with the little adjustable loopy things that I went to Wal-Mart to buy.

That’s right, Wal-Mart. You all know how much I hate Wal-Mart. I endured countless bare bellies and toothless men to get these babies for the price of $19.98. So please. PLEASE. I beg of you, leave them alone.

You know, so I don’t have to cut you.


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