Dear Ms. Fairy Godmother!
Since I’ve never met you, but know by the law of justice and plots of all the cheesy chick flicks that you exist, I have a few things I want to question you about.
Here’s the list:
1. Where the hell are you and have been all my life? Don’t you have a contract or something stating that you were supposed to show up at my, I don’t know, 17th birthday, and make my life magnificent?
2. Are you a woman or a guy, and if the latter, are you gay and hence would still be able to assist with the whole clothes issue and dig up a single dress for me? ‘Cause all I have now is jeans.
3. Can you, with your magick wand, make a posh car out of something else besides the quickly spoiling food products?
4. Do you hang out with other mystical creatures like yourself, especially with that Tooth Fairy bitch? (Was a quarter really so much to ask? Seriously, what a bitch…)
5. I appreciate big beautiful horses albeit for transporting uses only, but that old wives tale that they should be made of rats that you so graciously let into my apartment (to live, as it turned out later), still doesn’t sit well with me. Next time, try bunnies.
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