#dear guy

[istealyourteeth]

Dear guys doing martial arts with females. Getting punched in the boobs hurt. The boobs are the no no zone. You do not punch the no no zone. Please be weary when sparring a female classmate. That is all.

[whatwouldfrogsdo]

get your disapproval and judgement out of here Mary let Paul dunk his jaffa cakes

[wiltedpastelroses]

Dear guy I just followed. I am to shy to tell you that you are adorable. So... HI. YOU ARE ADORABLE. Maybe you know who you are.

[devondoesstuff-blog]

Dear Guy walking down the street looking ashamed while carrying a new plunger, It's ok. Shit happens.

[bootycallcalum]

If you ever end up finding my blog, and end up finding this, I wouldn’t know what to feel. I want to tell you these things in person but at the same time keep it from you because I know you don’t feel the same way. You see, you’re probably the first person I actually really like (as in have a crush on like) and actually know. I usually fall in ‘love’ with people I hardly talk to, I don’t talk to, who don’t know me, who I can’t touch, who are fantasy. But with you it’s totally different. You’re the only guy I’m myself around, I don’t care if I make an ugly face, a weird noise, or be awkward, because I know you’ll laugh, but in a good way. Fuck, you’d even join in and be silly with me. We mock each other that’s why. I mock the weird noises you make in class, the faces you make when you’re falling asleep, I’m even starting to repeat your signature sayings (“stoooppp”, “love, ah, true, true love”, “saaammmee”, “I’m going to write an epic”, etc.)! I love seeing you smile and laugh it makes me so happy because I know I’m the reason for them at the times being. I tell you so much bad jokes and puns, but I know you love them deep down those sighs and head bangs because you shoot back terrible jokes and puns too. I take hours to reply to your texts, I’m sorry, but you always text back within minutes, thank you. Sometimes we don’t even text since all we start to do is send each other memes. Fuck we would be the meme queen and king (Like that day, do you remember? Jacqueen and guying). I want you to sleep over at my house or your house and we would be in a fort of blankets on a laptop listening to music as we scroll and discover dumb and funny things. God, I want to be the little spoon with you but at the same time, I want to be the big spoon. I want to be the big spoon because I always get this little feeling that you’re hurt and you just need someone to hold you. Ever since that day our freshman English teacher put us together in a group at the end of the year, we’ve gotten closer. Ever since that day our web design teacher put us together for a project, we’ve gotten closer. Ever since that first day of school this year, we had the luck of sitting next to each other, we’ve gotten closer. Ever since that day on the bus to the Tempest, we’ve gotten closer. Ever since the class read all our poems, we’ve gotten closer. Ever since that day last week for the ballad, we’ve gotten closer. Let me just rewind a bit, do you remember and think about as much as I do about that trip to see The Tempest (probably not)? How we bonded as we sat together on the bus, as ate together at In and Out, as we walked around together at the park the play was held in, as we sat together and watched (the “shooting stars” we kept seeing), when the girls next to you asked us if we were best friends (“we’re classmates..”, “oh because you guys have like the best friendship evErr”) when they obviously thought we were dating, or when it was the bus ride back home when we were both so tired. When I had my eyes closed against the seat, when I opened my eyes I think I saw you looking at me as I tried to sleep since you quickly looked away or when I rested my head on your boney shoulder and slept for a while, gently waking up only because I felt your head rest on top of mine as you fell asleep, lightly bumping into each other as the bus went over the lumps of the road? Because I think about that day a lot. Fuck you make me so happy, it’s been a long time since someone has made me feel so fucking happy like this. You give me a new reason to be excited about returning to school every morning since my little heartbreak last year. Fuck I love how you make me feel. I hope you love the way I make you feel. I love you. I hope you love me. I hope I make you happy. I hope you think about that day too. Fuck I want to watch the stars and moon with you and stare at a fire with you and kiss you and hug you and hold your hand and make jokes with you and cuddle with you, and watch movies with you, and listen to music with you, I want to be with you. I want others to see how we are together, because what we share is real. I hope it’s real. Fuck. I need to stop. I . I just want you to know. It’s probably going to be too late one day.

[harasmiy-blog]

Even After You've Said Yes

I hate guys that lead you on.

If you're not feeling it anymore, just say it.

I know what it's like. You're allowed to say no even after you've said yes.

[a-lockharts]

I teach marketing and today we were doing a lesson on advertising, where we showed the Dove campaign about when people stopped thinking they were beautiful. One guy turned around, very seriously, and said "I have used dove soap for years, but i'm done now. That was an incredibly sexist advert and there were absolutely no men included. Wow, Dove, what a way to lose consumers." 

I'm still laughing. 

[sirguysdiary]

A Message from Meg

Dear Guy,

I see this is your diary so I have not red it (you see, I can contain my curiosity!). But I notist your feresome frown as you wrote in it earlier and now you are a-sleep I take the oportunity to stele, the booke and write a note to tell you: YOU ARE NOT RESPONSABLE FOR MY FATE. I chose to help you. Do not blame youreself for my end. 

I was so glad to leave him and to be taken under Isabellas wing. I thought I had found freedome, that at last no one would tell me what to think, whom to love. I thought she understode why I want to make my own choises. I was ecsited to think I might help the new lady Sheriff, and that together we might work to make life better for the wimen of this town. But I was wrong about her. She wanted me to follow her blindly juste as much as my father did, to hate all that she hates, to share her bitterness towords all men for the wrongs done to her by her husband – and by you, Guy. But I can not.

You have hurt Isabella but I do not beleave you deserve this death. I am glad I met you, Guy of Gisbourne. Im glad I got to knowe you, in spite of evrything, and Im glad you say I helped you (tho I don't see how). You have done some, horrible things, in your life, but you have been kind to me, and askt nothing in retern. Theire is one personn in this world who would have morned you, had she not all so been about to die! I hope the priests praye for both oure souls, for none else will.

One last thing, in case I don't get the chanse to tell you: dispite what I said, I think youre very handsome.

- Meg Bennet.