Subject: A Great Letter (Ladies) Date: Thu, 21 Feb 2008 16:56:53 -0500

This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to Proctor and Gambel regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph.

Dear Mr. Thatcher:

I have been a loyal user of your "Always" maxi-pads for over 20 years, and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the out the Leak-Guard core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flex-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it si that maxi-pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants. Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from "the curse"? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the mont h is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call "an inbred hillbilly with knife skills."

Isn't the human body amazing? As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers' monthy visits from "Aunt Flo." Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend' testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps.

Cr-aaaaa-zy!

The point is, sir, you of all people m ust realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants...which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus. I opened an Always maxi-pad,a and there, printed on the adhesive backing were these words, "Have a Happy Period."

Are you fu**ing kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well did it, James?

FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything "happy" about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle, and a sketchy plan to end you life in a blaze of glory.

For the love o f God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi-pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like "Put Down the Hammer" or "Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong," or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull sh*t. And that's a promise I will keep.

Always,

(name deleted) Austin, TX

PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best Web-mail award-winning letter.

at times screaming at the top of his lungs.

As the old gentleman walked up and down the aisles, people could hear him speaking in a soft voice..

"We are almost done, Albert ... Try not to cry, Albert ... Life will get better, Albert."

As he approached the checkout stand, he gently brushed the toddler's tears from his eyes and said again, "Try not to cry, Albert .. We'll be home soon, Albert ..."

As he was paying the cashier, the toddler continued to cry and a young woman in line behind him said, "Sir, I think it's wonderful how sweet you're being to your little Albert."

The old gentleman blinked his eyes a couple of times before saying,

"My grandson's name is John. I'm Albert."

One particular Sunday however, he had a bad cold and really didn't feel like being up at all. Luckily, his wife came to the rescue and said that she would take their granddaughter out. When they returned, the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see her grandfather.

"Well, did you enjoy your ride with grandma?"

"Oh yes, Papa" the girl replied, "and do you know what? We didn't see a single dumb bastard or lousy shit head!"

Brings a tear to your eye doesn't it !!!

On the outskirts of a small town, there was a big, old pecan tree just inside the cemetery fence. One day,two boys filled up a bucketful of nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts. "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me," said one boy. Several dropped and rolled down toward the fence.

Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me."

The startled boy just knew what it was. He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend of the road into town, he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along.

"Come here quick," said the boy, "you won't believe what I just heard! - Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery right now, dividing up the souls."

The man scowled and said, "Beat it kid, can't you see how hard it is for me to walk? I can't waste my energy chasing down a wild story like that!"

Still, the boy's persistence and the wild fearful look in his eyes finally wore down the old man's resistance. The boy on his bike pedaled slowly in the company of the shuffling old man as they each hobbled back up the road toward the cemetery.

They finally reached the point outside where the boy first heard talking. Standing by the fence together, they now both heard, "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me."

The old man's eyes were now wide open. "Boy," he whispered, "you've been tellin' me the truth. Let's take a closer look. Maybe we will be able to see the Lord."

Shaking with fear, they each peered through the fence, but they were still unable to see anything. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried

all the harder to get a glimpse of the Lord.

At last they heard, "One for you, one for me. That's all. Now let's go get those nuts by the fence and we'll be done."

They say the old man made it back to town a full 5 minutes ahead of the kid on the bike.

SMILE, God Loves You!

Last night my sister and I were sitting in the den and I said to her, "I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle to keep me alive. That would be no quality of life at all. If that ever happens, just pull the plug."

So she got up, unplugged the computer, and threw out my wine.

She's such a bitch.

Make sure you are somewhere that you can laugh OUT LOUD when you are reading this!! (This is a real hoot...I challenge anyone not to laugh when reading this!)

All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair, and now...the

wax. Read on..........

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet."

So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.

No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out...(YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. (Cold wax,

yeah...right!") I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!

OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire. With my next wax

strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I

apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace

myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!.....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal. I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair.

I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not! I touch. I am touching wax. I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet?

I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. SEALED SHUT!!!! MY BUTT IS SEALED SHUT! SEALED SHUT!! I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself, "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???

WRONG!!!!!!!****** I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had

cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!! I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how

to get me undone.

It's a very good conversation starter......So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!" There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?" She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.

While we go through various solutions. I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot

water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!! By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event. My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.

What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!! The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. IT WORKS!! It works !!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.

I successfully removed the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair.... THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT! So I recklessly shave it off.

Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color...... God is good all the time!

Post edited by: coolmamma, at: 03/06/2008 09:00

Good one.....Maggie