Dear Ms. Leading,

I regret to inform you I've fallen out of lust.
It must be so hard to understand.
Did you really think me a fool enough to play along?
And make believing everything you said was true
Push your pouting lips on other unsuspecting lovers

The Dear Hunter


What's wrong with the world today?

Seventeen teenage girls planning pregnancies with a pact like it's just another Truth or Dare consequence.

An 11 year old girl singing, "I kissed a girl and I liked it."

Way to be, girls of the 21st century.
Let's celebrate your intelligence with another kick to the face and fetal alcohol syndrome...


My relationships are continuously crap-tastic.
It's like I'm stuck in Monopoly jail, I have the Pretty, Pretty Princess black ring and I keep hitting the sides of the Operation patient.
I can't pass "GO" and I can't collect $200, I can't win the crown, and I keep dropping that damn pencil shaped writer's cramp back into the forearm cavity.

Goddamn, I am a horrible relationship/board game player...
In an attempt to be candid, I will now recount a customer incident that took place at work this past Friday, the 13th.

A woman, aged about 50 some odd years and a bit top heavy, was yelping in pain as I approached the front of the discount store from the back, where I was reducing discounted prices from 40% to about 50% off. As I looked at the setting and my eyes adjusted to the sunlight pouring in from the front doors, I realized that this woman scraped her leg on one of the display shelves, closest to the floor. One of the corners was considerably sharp and probably should have been covered with a plastic casing especially made for these types of situations.

As I was asked to put the plastic on the corner a minute too late by the manager, the customer pointed out that if we had taken this precaution before, she wouldn't be in pain at the moment... and oh how it burned. Oh God, she couldn't believe how much it burned. Look, it was bleeding! It sliced right into her and it wouldn't stop BURRRRNING.

I looked up from my struggle with the L-shaped piece of plastic and my eyes rested on her right leg, just above her ankle. It looked like a paper cut canal filling with blood. It dripped a bit, but not enough for her to be justified in the way she was sucking air through her teeth and saying, "Ahhhhh!"

I forced myself to look at the sharp, dangerous corner again and continue with my struggle as I felt the corners of my mouth start to curl into a smile. You've got to be kidding me, lady.

My boss returned from the office, a band-aid and antiseptic in her latex gloved hands.
"You really don't have to do that," the over dramatic, middle aged, starved for attention customer said.
"No, but it's really alright. Just let me help you."

Boss lady sprayed the big baby with antiseptic and big baby howled in pain.


The customers on line at the register turned and stared at the screaming 50 year old with a paper cut.
Shuffling behind my co-worker at the register, I muffled a laugh with a forced cough.

I had already punched out. I wanted to leave and tell everyone about this customer that was obviously deprived of attention for at least several months before this incident. But, I waited until my boss was done bandaging the fool with a scrape on her leg and asked her if she needed anything else before I left. She sighed and told me to have a good day.

On my way out, I heard the big baby fool's voice say, "I just can not believe how much that cut hurt..." and I thought, "I just can not believe how much of a fucking cunt that woman was. I hope she doesn't sue."


Just add his name to the list of "never-would-i-ever" people that have been in and out of my life.

It's a long list, and fierce too.

Each name stirs a foaming-mouth hate from my gut.

FYI, you should probably never cross me.

This is my lackadaisical attempt to be intimidating.

Stare in awe at my words of leisure.


What the fuck is "!!!"?
How the hell are you even supposed to say that band name?
Luckily there was an indie band Wikipedia definition written by someone probably scrawny, quiet and grossly opinionated.
It said, "pronounced 'chk chk chk.'"
How the fuck... exclamation points are now pronounced as sounds?!

Looking sickly is in. Accentuate your sunken-in face with stringy, straight, bluntly angled hair that gets compliments from only the most popular people in your circle.
Stick toothbrushes into the back of your throats, squeeze into skinny jeans and wrap yourselves in the latest "underground" trends.

Like obscure bands for the sake of liking obscure bands.
Laugh your ass off at people who have never heard of these "amazing" bands and never share them with others.
I believe in sharing music.
I love something, I share it with as many people that will let me share it with them.
Oh, and I give credit where it's due.

"No, I didn't find these guys. THIS RECORD LABEL DID and then my friend bought it and gave me a copy."

Sip soy milk lattes at that live music on Wednesdays basement cafe across the street from Starbuck's where all of those "regular" and "uninformed" people hang out. That's where I'll be enjoying my mediocre life with my mediocre, sometimes even mainstreamed (GASP!) music.


It seems as though the main theme in my life is how much people's stupidity astounds me.
You would think at this point I wouldn't be surprised at all anymore.
Yet, I continue to stare, open mouthed as rubber-neckers cause congestion on highways and celebrity coke addicts pop out babies and drop them on floors.
Stupidity is also the leading cause of my dissatisfaction with the dating pool.
Can't I go out at least once without having to converse with a drunken, glossy-eyed nineteen year old that really only cares about hockey?
Where are the literate, inquisitive and artistic?
They're replaced with the sports fanatic, beer chugger and video game maverick.


The one thing that makes me laugh more often than arrogance, bad drivers and teenage angst is when I meet people who are in love.

I don't apologize for any offense this may bring; I'm just a bitter bitch trying to take everyone around me down with me. Right?

Not everyone in love are complete idiots.
It's the people who love someone when they're really just willing to give up on living.
They make sacrifices they really don't have to make but do anyway because they want to be a fucking martyr.

"I really wanted to go to Delaware for grad school, but since Jamie is staying in New York, I'm going to start looking into local programs. There are more job opportunities for Jamie here, so it's really just the best decision."

Translation: "Look how beautiful our love is. I'm sacrificing my happiness for their's."

Interpretation: "Wow. You're a tool."

Do what you want, and fuck an intangible feeling that you may wake up not feeling tomorrow.
I can't fully respect people who put all of their faith and trust in something that changes as often as hygiene enthusiasts change their underwear.
How about fully trusting yourself and your capabilities?
No one needs to sell themselves short for a bullshit relationship.

Oh, it's looking like you'll get married?
That's cool because you'll end up divorced anyway at the rate divorces are going at these days.
- 4 out of 10 first time marriages will end in divorce.
- In the U.S. there are approximately 2.4 mil marriages a year and 1.2 mil divorces a year.

Still convinced love will concur all?
How about the effects of outside factors like temptation?
- 20% of all married men have had extra marital affairs, and 16% of all married women have strayed from their marriages.

Those numbers should be more like... zero.

While love is laughable, I don't doubt it exists. I doubt the faith that so many put in love.
Just don't be idiots and do whatever the fuck you want as long as it doesn't hurt anyone.
Don't let someone hold you back from what you really want out of life.


I find myself in a worthless world of false ambition.
These people have abstract dreams, but hardly any of them will ever live them.
It warms my heart that most aspirations are unattainable.
Dreams stay dreams. And that's the way it should be.
If reality were perfection, we'd have nothing to aspire to be.
Our dream-lifestyles would be torn to shit with our pessimism and consistently fucked up economy.
Eventually we'd find flaws within the perfection because it's human nature to be unhappy- with everything.

Will I accomplish my dreams? Probably not.
And I wouldn't want to anyway.
I'm eventually disgusted with most things about my life and I wouldn't want to be disgusted with being a space cowgirl with a hit country single on Mars.
I'd rather just leave that to a good night's sleep after several rum & coke's.