How To Address A Letter To Vancouver Canada

alright, so this poem is specifically for someone. i performed it once before but forgot to get it recorded. so hopefully i'll be thanked for it one day. it's a letter to my little sister's future boyfriend. listen here, kid. i know what you're thinking.

How To Address A Letter To Vancouver Canada, "man, i lucked out.a girl whose father does not own a rife and household dog seems pretty tame and no overprotective brother on the horizon." well. i'm much worse. evidence number one: shape of the fact that i'm writing you this threat-

-i mean, letter... ...if you so much as lay eyes upon my sister. evidence number two i suppose would be the list of fifteen interview questions i put together long before laying eyes on you. i'll have you know: there most certainly are right and wrong answers to this interrogation. be advised: i'm a picky marker; not one to settle easily. i'll be scribbling a red pen over everything you say. and actually, mentally take off points for grammatical errors. do not slouch in my presence. i grew up a ballerina. i know how to correct a bad posture with pain and all in all, a deprived actress. i've been waiting for a while now to use the line "get get out my house!" so try not to fuck up.

i'm unfortunate enough to have already bumped into the guy who does not believe in feminism the poor boy sadly unknowledgable in the realm of opening doors and that asshole who thinks he was the first one to think up that sandwich joke and the one about pms... all i'm saying is i'll be watching you. so, hunk. and while i don't frequently believe in giving out test redos where it matters, i do believe in prepping up my students. so, punk.

when i ask for your name, i won't be listening to count the syllables, nor will it matter which accents the letters fall upon. but it'd better be a name i never hear my little sister sob upon my shoulder. when i ask which god you believe in any name will do and none is fine for this question is a hidden invitation for you to be cocky with your morals, flaunt the way you greet my parents and boast as you get my sister home on time, relish this attention. as a last heads up, i don't give a damn about the institutional level of your education but i will judge quite harshly your eagerness to learn ,to spread out your constellations,

discover some new planets and take my little sister along for the ride. just make sure she wears a seatbelt. ask her why she diddles the way she does and laugh along when you witness her talking to herself; this happens a lot. keep her company as she dances around the city and don't let her take her romantic comedies too seriously. but do prove to herhow magic exists. son, i'm not asking you to bring my sister the moon, nor am i asking you to show up at midnight with a serenade and a rose

and in fact, please don't, my backyard is full of raccoons. all i'm saying is make her smile a little wider keep her body a little warmer,her days a little better. as for me. stick around. fight for my trust.it'll be a battle but i assure you i may just let you win. just bake me cookies. and once your accomplice, i am full of ingenious date ideas. but i ever hear you promise my little sister you'll treat her like a princess you'd better build that fucking castle.

thank you