Dear Nose,

You are so weird. I could walk behind a street cleaner in Maryland after the last winter's snow for five hours straight and you wouldn't so much as twitch. But every single night when I get out the tooth past and the tooth brush you are indignant. I've never seen so much consistent tooth-pastey-saliva-on-the-bathroom-mirror in my life. You are so random nose. What is your problem? Why must you thrust an entire days worth of carcinogens and dirty grim through those two little holes when I fill my mouth with tooth paste...Every night. I mean its kind of funny once or twice you know, but COME ON dude. Get it together, or I'm getting another nose, maybe one of those nice thin jobs.

Okay, okay, I'll admit that a good sneeze is next to a good bowel movement, and a good bowel movement is next to bad sex, and well, bad sex is next to good sex, and good sex, ha, is next to godliness. But that doesn't give you any right to create so much extra clean up work for me to do every day. Stupid nose. I know your always telling me to pick on somebody my own size, but now it's my turn. Now it's my time. I don't want to hear so much as a sniffle the next time I slather that Crest on the diverging bristles of our eight-month old tooth brush with purple and orange stripes. Believe me it is in your best interest to cooperate. As I said before I'm not asking that the sneezing cease altogether, just try to keep it to normal times, like when walking into a Linus dust cloud or something okay? Okay.



Love,

Ryan