Boo, Don't Be Afraid

This is one letter in a series of letters to My Future Boo ("The One" who has yet to discover and appreciate me).

Dear Boo,

It has come to my attention that perhaps you're not trying hard enough to find me because you think you're not ready to settle down yet.

Most likely, this is because you fear a few things:
(1) only having one pussy to bang the rest of your life;
(2) leading the boring life of a married man;
(3) I'll let myself go and you'll be stuck with me;
(4) I'll spend all your money; and
(5) you think you can do better.

I agree that these things sound dreadful. I love you so much that I wouldn't want you to endure those things either.

So here's what I propose:

(1) You can bang other girls even after we're married. We can discuss the frequency that I'll allow this to happen once we actually meet, but I just want you to know that it's cool with me. My only requirement is that she be a complete bimbo because I know you'd never leave me for a stupid whore. So if she's hotter than I am, great. Younger than I am? Obvi. Illiterate and unable to read a Stop sign? Perfect. Bang the shit out of her. Of course I'll be fucking other men as well because married people share everything, including the right to fuck outside the marriage.

(2) As for the second point, you're only afraid you won't have fun because you haven't met me yet! I'm seriously the most fun girl ever created. You want costumes? Stripper shoes? A pole? A third? You got it. Just ask any of the hundreds of men who have already fucked me. They'll all confirm that they had a BLAST with me. I've probably fucked at least 4 of your friends, so you could start by asking them. Isn't that convenient? You're marrying such a thoughtful girl.

(3) This one is just stupid. I will NEVER let myself go. Don't you realize how vain and competitive I am? I'll never stop counting calories, working out, or wearing ridiculously expensive clothing and high heels. Because those are the things that define me. I'm nothing without them. Just like you're nothing without me. Yes, you're marrying someone with true depth. You lucky Boo you.

(4) I won't spend all your money because you'll make so much that it's not even possible! What a silly thing to worry about. You'll definitely make enough lettuce to support my shoe fetish. Isn't a $30,000/year shoe budget just a drop in the bucket for you? That's like only 30 pairs of shoes per year. Come on! You can TOTALLY afford that.

(5) Honey. It doesn't get better than this. I never promise anything I can't deliver, and I'm promising you a lifetime filled with laughter, witty banter, high-end labels, massive shit talking (about our "friends," not each other), adventure, and, of course, our old bestie - alcohol. And low on filters, boundaries, budgets, and carbs. Clearly, I'm the ideal woman. Don't you feel as though I was made just for you?

I know what you're thinking, Boo. Our marriage sounds AMAZING. I'm super excited about it, too. :)

Now that I've convinced you to find me, I have just one more thing to say:
HURRY THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING RETARD.

While I may be growing more tan, mature, and sexually experienced every day, I'm not getting any younger. Get your shit together, find me, and lock my ass down. The sooner you do it, the lower my "number" will be when we meet. We wouldn't my "number" to have a comma in it now would we? Of course not. Better act quickly then.

I'm ready for you.

I love you SO MUCH.

But I don't have time to discuss this further because I'm off to Saks! See you in 6 hours.


The perfect woman,
Me

Infidelity

This is one letter in a series of letters to My Future Boo ("The One" I've yet to meet).

Dear Boo,

I just found out that one of my best girlfriends was cheated on by her live-in boyfriend. They had been together for 5 years. She thought they were going to get married. And this girl is amazing - she's a 10, she makes bank, she's super fun, and she's a sweetheart. Basically, she = me + boobs + $ + a soul. And her DOUCHEBAG BOYFRIEND CHEATED ON HER.

But don't worry, Boo. I know that you're different. You're better than he is, which is why I decided to marry you. I TOTALLY trust you. And more importantly, I know that you know that if you ever cheated on me, it would be the BIGGEST mistake of your life. Because you'd lose me. And I wouldn't look back, no matter how much you begged and no matter what sexual fantasies you offered to fulfill. Even the one where we have a threesome with a Playboy bunny in a Bentley.

But I don't need to say any of this to you because you love me and would never cheat on me. Not even with the busty Latina HR girl or the skinny Asian corporate lawyer. Even if they wanted to go down on you simultaneously. Right? Right.

And of course I don't need to talk about what the financial consequences would be if you cheated on me. I mean, we already went over this in detail when I talked you out of that prenup. But hypothetically speaking, just for shits and giggles, what would make you more angry - (1) losing half your assets to me or (2) knowing that I'd use those assets to replace you with someone smarter, younger, hotter, and funnier and to whom I'd intentionally do all the dirty things in bed that I always refused to do with you, just out of venomous spite? Tee hee.

But enough about infidelity. It's something we'll never have to deal with. Like being poor, unattractive, under-dressed, or unpopular. So not happening to us. EVER.

So glad we're both on the same page. We really ARE soul mates!

Love you, Boo!
[still not telling]

Our Wedding

This is one letter in a series of letters to The Lucky Bastard (my future boo).

Dear Boo,

I went to a wedding this past weekend, which got me thinking about OUR future wedding.

Since you’re marrying an Asian, you probably already know that this wedding will be a logistical masterpiece. Every possible detail and contingency will be meticulously considered well in advance of the actual ceremony. In other words, I’ve already planned it all out even though I haven’t met you yet.

I’m sorry for not including your input in the planning of our wedding, but I hope you realize that since I have better taste and am more organized, it’s really more efficient if I do it all without you. Consensus building just takes more time than I have to give.

But it’s not like you won't contribute to the wedding at all. I’ve found 2 roles for you: (1) you’ll bankroll the wedding and (2) you’ll be in it, sweetie!

Here are the most pertinent details related to our wedding day (The full 287 page plan, itinerary, and contingency plan are locked in our safe deposit box by the stunning Harry Winston diamond necklace you bought me for my birthday last year. Notice that I didn't include a “budget” because I’ve decided that we won’t be having one.):

I’ve realized that I have WAY more best gays than I do girlfriends, so instead of having Bridesmaids, I’m going to have a harem of Bridesmen! They’ll be dressed in custom-made pink sailor suits designed by none other than Dolce and Gabbana themselves! Ahoy!

And, instead of a Maid of Honor, I’d like to have a Geisha of Honor – one of my best gays who will go in drag as a gorgeous geisha! I see this as a unique and thoughtful way of honoring my Asian parents.

Obvi the wedding will be a destination wedding somewhere tropical and international. Although it will be very expensive for our guests to attend, this will show us who our TRUE FRIENDS are.

We’re going to feast on a 6-course meal prepared by Eric Ripert. He’ll make all of my favorites, which I won’t bother listing here because you should already know what they are.

Entertainment will be provided by all of my most beloved artists (this list is subject to change depending who is “hot” at the time of our wedding), including Rihanna, Britney Spears, Fergie, MIA, T-Pain, Justin Timberlake, John Mayer, Kanye West, and Gwen Stefani. (Please note that John and Justin will be seated to my left and right during dinner. While I recognize that you might want to sit by me, I think it would be more fun if we sat immersed among the pop stars rather than among our loved ones, don’t you agree? You can totally sit between Rihanna and Britney!)

My gown and 3 other dresses (as I will do multiple clothing changes throughout the course of the evening) will be designed by Marchesa. I know exactly how I want them to look, but I’m not giving you anymore details because I want your jaw to drop in awe every time you first see me. Don’t worry. Each dress will be worth every penny (2,000,000 pennies, to be more specific).

Adam Corolla will marry us because he's fucking hilarious, and I want our wedding ceremony to be entertaining. I've sat through enough coma-inducing ceremonies to know that the only two people who enjoy the wedding ceremony are the two people actually getting married. And sometimes even they look like they can't wait until it's over. Also, do you think Adam would be willing to dress up as a Merman? Actually, what am I saying? I'm sure he has his price, and fortunately for us, we have no limits.

Our guests will NOT be allowed to bring their children because I find children annoying, loud, and dirty. This would turn our wedding into an absolute circus, and, as you can tell, I'd like it to be a romantic and serious affair.

Most importantly, I'd like to ensure that all of our guests are as hammered as I will be, so let's place a fountain of Dom Perignon on each table, okay?


Your Cherie Amour,
[the name my readers will never know]

Letter to My Future Boo

Can you tell by my posts that I’m a hopeless romantic? Well I totally am. I dream of the day that ABC Family approaches me about making a made-for-TV romantic comedy based on my love life (Clearly, I would be played by Kelly Hu. Her or Margaret Cho. I can’t decide for I am like their lesbian lovechild.).

Anyhow, the romantic side of me LOVES thinking about the fact that my future husband is out there somewhere living his life. Yes, I know that this is the gayest thing I've ever said, but it's true! I love pondering where my future husband might live right now and what he may be doing at any given moment. Is he spearheading a hostile takeover of one of the largest corporations in the world? Is he fearlessly betting millions at the high roller Baccarat table at Wynn? Did his team just win the World Cup? Is he serving soup at a homeless shelter? Ha! Just kidding about the last one. Like I care about that.

And since I truly believe that my husband is out there somewhere (SOMETIMES I believe this, not always), I’d like to compose a love letter to him that I will one day show him, perhaps after I’ve just conceived our first child thereby locking his ass down for the next 18 years.

Here it goes.

My Sun and Moon,

What the FUCK took you so long? Do you know how many LOSERS I had to bang before you found me? It’s a damn miracle I don’t have herpes on top of genital warts. What the hell were you doing while I was suffering through this, this, this, this, and this? You were off banging 21 year-olds, weren’t you?

And now, finally, at age 30, you’re ready for a real woman. Am I supposed to be grateful? Fuck you! You owe me a pair of Jimmy Choos for every year of my life I spent getting hooched up and wasted at bars looking for your sorry ass. You know my size, and don’t you dare come back with anything shorter than a 4” heel.

I can’t wait until the day we drop Peter Jr. off at Stanford. And you BETTER make sure he gets in with Early Admission.

Now go tell Cook I’m hungry but that I don’t want any carbs tonight.

No, I'm not fucking you tonight. But you can eat my box.

FOREVER yours,
[you WISH you knew my name, bitches]

Isn't he going to be so lucky to have me?