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i killed it Gilbert

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no networks, no nukes, not notcakes

my vacation in numbers

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+ you are #




2:13 pm | 04 June 2004 | your memoranda rights

To: Yoplait USA, Inc.
From: Claudia
Re: Whips!

Damn, dudes! Your marketing concept team is really on the ball! Simply by injecting my yogurt with air, you are able to sell me 4oz. of yogurt for the price of the usual 6oz.--and make it seem specialer with the phrase "Light & Fluffy TEXTURE." I feel kind of taken-advantage of.

That Peaches 'N [sic*] Cream shit is motherfucking delicious though.


To: "Juniors" dept.
From: "Misses" dept.
Re: size issues

Okay, seriously. What is up. I know that your clothes are all cut for tiny, slim-hipped-to-hipless, barely-breasted preteens, and mine are made for most women past puberty. I got that. And I know you use the odd numbers whereas I use the even numbers, ostensibly to cause less confusion. Fine. What I don't get, however, is why the spread is so far apart. Why, for instance, does this totally cute girl i know**, who wears a totally normal 6 elsewhere, have to struggle to pack dat ass into a nine or even a godforsaken ELEVEN if she tries to slum it at Charlotte Russe? Seriously. What gives, bitch?


To: "Totally," "seriously," and "for real"
From: Claudia
Re: heart!

I love you I love you I looooooove you. How would I speak without you? Never leave me! NEVER! I totally couldn't talk without you, seriously, for real. For seriously reals, y'all. Totalement.


To: Girl I interviewed yesterday
From: HR
Re: test scores

You seemed like a nice girl. But then I watched, SQUIRMING, as you typed “vegitables.”

And then changed it to “vegatables.”

And then typed some keywords (bad ones, in the wrong blank).

And then went back and fixed it to “vegitibles.”

WTF. I almost want to hire you, just so that I can hand you a Post-It with "vegetables" written on it. And then fire you.


To: My face
From: The rest of the body
Re: knock it off

Oooh, I'm soooo sooorrry. I tried to go OUT IN THE SUN! I tried to ENJOY MYSELF with JUNK FOODS and BOOZE! Way to freak the fuck out! You look really great.

Here, tell you what. I've spent the last three days holed up in my apartment, making genius art and eating celery. I'll do that for the rest of the weekend if you'll flare DOWN. Seriously. No need to all explode blood vessels across the bloated hemisphere of my visage every time I try to laugh at something. My skin is exploding like a rural fire station's Fourth of July Firework Non-Stravaganza and it's retarded. SETTLE. the FUCK. DOWN. Jesus.


To: Kirsten Dunst
From: Claudia
Re: Your fat fucking face
Cc: Renee Zellweger

Look, I have hated you since, like, forever, and it totally burned my chops that people accused me of naming myself AFTER YOUR CHARACTER in Interview with the [Lame Tom Cruise] Vampire [which is btw patently untrue] and then but so you went and stole my BOYFRIEND, Jake "Claudia's Boyfriend" GYLLENHAAL, and NOW I have to look at these idiot Spider-Man billboards which treat me to a painterly portrait-view of your FAT FUCKING FACE every day, on my hell-ridden commute. Did I mention that one of my friends who was a PA on Spider-Man One said that you like it up the butt? No? Well he did. And I am totally not surprised. GOD, i hate you SO MUCH.

Oh, and this goes for you, too, Renee. At least Kirsten only has craggly fang-cisors, whereas you have eyes like infected stab-wounds. Even when you're down to your post-Bridget Jones Skeletoriest, you still have a big puffy fatface. I mean, I have a big face, but that's because I live on candy and grain alcohol. You have a fat face because you're a hateful whore. And you can't act, either. Christ.


To: My stomach
From: Other organs
Re: I'll give you something to cry about

Quit it with the roiling. I know i pack you full of crap, but d'you hear my lungs, liver, or heart complaining will all kinds of grindy noises and snowglobey sloshing? No, no you don't. Settle down over there.


To: Stupid whore of a book editor at Elle who pretty much recommended that David Foster Wallace settle down and write an Oprah book already
From: Claudia's right fist
Re: no subject

SUCK IT.


To: Bank of America
From: Valued Customer #557020092
Re: it's called "redundancy"
Cc: Allen Associates

Excuse me, miss? What are you saying? You are saying that I cannot purchase a cashier's check using my checking account? No, I do not have my checks with me. Oh, I see, despite the fact that YOU ARE MY BANK and I AM PURCHASING THIS CHECK FROM YOU FOR THE ADDITIONAL FEE of $6, you cannot deduct my check amount, plus the fee, from my checking account. Can I go to the ATM and withdraw the cash with which to pay you? No? $606 is too much for the ATM? Well, then, can I withdraw cash from you, the teller, and then can you slide it under the little partition to me, and THEN can I purchase my cashier's check? Oh, I can? Oh, good. Yes, I'll sign all four receipts. This seems like a good use of paper. Great. BLOW ME.

Allen Associates: You, landlady, are a heinous raving bitch; your apartments are slums coated in a thin veneer of "funky retro" and many thick coats of white paint***; and your refusal to accept personal checks is medieval. Get in the "blow me" line.



*You aborted one apostrophe, there, gang; unless you mean "Peaches ON Cream," in which case, fine.
**Claudia
***Some genius painted MY SINK. In my bathroom. With HOUSE PAINT.


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