An open letter to Jesus.

Dear Jesus,

Hey. What up?

I know that I am a slacker in terms of Christianity, I curse like a sailor, and engage in all sorts of debaucherous un-lady like activities, but I need some of your godly assistance for a minute. I know you're busy healing lepers, turning water into wine, and showing up on peoples' tortillas and what not, but I need a small favor.

I would like to take a moment to point at out that I am not going to ask for any of the standard "Please help me Jesus" prayers.

I don't want money.

I don't want fame.

I don't want power.

I don't even want world peace, for fuck's sake.

I have but one small request: one decent, good man for Andria. That's it. I can't handle these men I have been meeting.

I just want to find one man who's honest, who doesn't play games, and knows what it is that he wants from a woman. He doesn't have to be rich, he doesn't have to be gorgeous. He doesn't have to be perfect at all. He should just mean what he says, and follow through with his promises.

Is that too much to ask for? I am a pretty good person. I think I deserve it. I mean, in the last seven days alone, I helped save my nemesis, Celestia, from near-mortal danger, AND saved the lives of a litter of sweet little baby kittens. Kittens!

That's good for something, right?

Also, could you please make Ashton Kutcher be less famous? That would be really great.

Thanks, Jesus. You're the best.

Love Always,
Andria

---

While we're on the Jesus tip, today, my neighbor, Jesus Freak, came over and told me that she was giving me her 30 days notice that she and her man are moving out of her apartment.

After catching YET ANOTHER peeping tom. One night, about a year and a half ago, I was in my bedroom on the computer (shocking, I know), and I noticed a light flashing in the backyard behind my apartment. About ten minutes later, I heard a banging on my door.

Being that I am a single female and possess no firearms, I didn't answer.

The next morning, Jesus Freak told me that she caught a guy looking in her bedroom window (about ten feet away from mine), and then later, saw him looking in her windows from across the street, so she called the cops.

Her boyfriend moved in about a week later, and she told me then that she was so creeped out that she was moving, but she never did. Until now.

My Dad had better rent that apartment to someone normal for a change.

Like a hot guy.

---

More adventures in instant messaging with my friend J in Boston:

Andria: Old guys are hot.
J: Yeah, if you say so. You're a skank. You think every guy's hot.
Andria: Eh, I suppose that's true. And I am not a skank. I am a whore, thank you very much. There IS a difference.
J: I am going to be there in two days!!
Andria: That's SO FUCKING WICKED. We're going to get cocked!
J: WHATEVER. DUDE.
Andria: You're the one that talks funny.
J: Oh my god!! I saw Johnny Damon in the city yesterday!!!
Andria: Who the hell is that?
J: How stupid are you?!
Andria: Do you have to ask?
Andria:Is he hot?

Update: For everyone that doesn't know, this is him: