possible past stalking freak

how to write a grammy winner

Happy New Year, by the way, for those of you celebrating. It is the Year of the Rabbit, and that is my year, for those of you wondering. Eric is a Pig, which is a very compatible sign with me. So, take that, restaurant girlies.

Where do you guys think Fiona Apple is right now? I have a feeling she’s just watching Jewel and Alanis lower themselves in the public’s eye and just planning her comeback.

Remember when I was mocking the last Alanis Morrisette song? I’m even more burned up about the new one.

In case you don’t know, this ridiculous song is called “Unsent.” And so you know the lyrics, here they are.

Unsent

Lyrics by Alanis Morissette; music by Alanis Morissette and Glen Ballard

dear matthew I like you a lot I realize you’re in a relationship with someone right now and I respect
that I would like you to know that if you’re ever single in the future and you want to come visit me in
california

I would be open to spending time with you and finding out how old you were when you wrote your
first song

dear jonathan I liked you too much I used to be attracted to boys who would lie to me and think
solely about themselves and you were plenty self-destructive for my taste at the time I used to say the more tragic the better the truth is

whenever I think of the early 90’s your face comes up with a vengeance like it was yesterday

dear terrance I love you muchly you’ve been nothing but open hearted and emotionally available
and supportive
and nurturing and consummately there for me I kept drawing you in and pushing you away I
remember
how beautiful it was to fall asleep on your couch and cry in front of you for the first time you were
the best platform from
which to jump beyond myself what was wrong with me

dear marcus you rocked my world you had a charismatic way about you with the women and you
got me
seriously thinking about spirituality and you wouldn’t let me get away with kicking my own ass but I
could never really feel
and it’s kinda too bad because we could’ve had much more fun

dear lou we learned so much I realize we won’t be able to talk for some time and I understand that
as I do you
the long distance thing was the hardest and we did as well as we could we were together during a
very tumultuous time
in our lives I will always have your back and be curious about you and your career your
whereabouts

(and then there’s some harmonica for a while that sounds like she just picked this thing up and went, “What do you do with it? Breathe in and out? Okay!”)

It took me twenty minutes to find those lyrics because every other Alanis page stopped updating back in September of last year. Uninvited, anyone?

If you don’t know how the song goes, just imagine that every multi-syllabic word you just rush through, and every two syllable word is dragged out for nine beats. And, really, this song just drives me nuts, because it was like. “hmm.. i need another song” (you know Alanis thinks without capitalization)… “what’s all this? oh, my letters when i was in school. ‘dear matthew…’ wow. start the tape, i’ve got a new song. i’ve got at least… four of these letters in here. bitchin’.”

My version of this song?

Shit, did I really send that?

Lyrics by pamie, Music by individual reader’s brains.

dear patrick i first saw you when you were the line leader
and i respected that a lot in a boy who was eight because at the time girls were much more mature than boys
but you showed you had the potential to lead us to the cafeteria
one time i dropped my spelling book right by your desk so that when i bent down i could smell the dirt on your jeans
i thought that was really cool that you would go and play in the dirt when i was playing tetherball

dear james i can’t believe you broke up with me because i wouldn’t sleep with your skinny ass
just who the hell do you think you are anyway
every time i think about the ninth grade your face comes up and i just want to vomit clear my stomach of your vile memory
i can’t believe you made me listen to richard pryor while we made out
i can’t believe i thought you loved me and i hope you don’t still style your hair like bart simpson because it really was never cool
and i can’t believe i bought you a skateboard
i found out that you were the one who started that vicious rumor that i masturbate with tampons and i don’t appreciate that one bit and if i don’t get a date to prom you better find someone cute that’s available for me or i’ll kill you

dear thomas i want my goddam pixies tape back
i’m not kidding
i can’t believe you took it and then lied about having it when i saw that you loaned it to cindy three months later she was in my gym class you know
i hate your stupid rotting guts i wish i had never met you
i can’t believe you made me think that you actually knew bono that was such a lie
hey thomas i learned a new word today its called triskadekaphobia it’s the fear of the number thirteen it has nothing to do with why i’m writing except it has a lot of syllables and i think that’s cool don’t you

dear ed your name doesn’t sound so good in my song but what am i going to do
i just wanted to tell you that i thought you were good and kind and you never talked bad about me but you understand that i had to leave you
because you were too nice to me and there were so many guys out there who could treat me like shit
so i just had to go because it’s much more romantic to pine away for someone who doesn’t really love you and respect you.
you’re such a good friend i hope we keep in touch
sorry so sloppy u r 2 good 2 be 4 gotten

dear sally
lylas

dear fred just because my name doesn’t end in an i doesn’t make me a less attractive human being
and if you insist on dating girls whose mouths resemble hoover vacuums then i wish you a life of pain and suffering that can only be matched by ugly horrible children who laugh at you and steal your money
i hope you never have a moment’s peace while you try to glue together your crumbling life
did you know that hypertrichophobia is the fear of hair that word has a lot of syllables too.
i was just mentioning another word just like that to thomas you know thomas he’s the guy that you called a pussy who came and picked me up from the restaurant where i saw you doing a tequila girlfriend off some other woman’s breasts

dear morgan i realize my song is getting kind of long but i’m on a roll now i don’t want to stop i find this kind of venting rather therapeutic
i’m sorry you’re losing your hair at such an early age it must be terrible but i want you to know that i never noticed until all of my friends kept pointing it out
so for a very short time you were absolutely flawless in my eyes and you could never do any wrong and then all of a sudden everything that i thought was cute and quirky about you i found terribly, terribly, terribly annoying
the way you ate the way you slept the way you insisted on calling me toots
and for the last fucking time i want you to know that parker stevenson was on baywatch and not my two dads
and there’s a difference between michael madsen and tom sizemore look at their goddam foreheads and you’ll know
and if you ever find another woman who will sleep with you for her sake don’t ever do that thing again where you pretend you’re swimming in lake breast it’s degrading and humiliating and shumliakabalishable
that’s a word i just made up but i’m very proud of it because it has the ultimate syllabic content

(here’s where i do a bad ass tambourine solo)

You smell that? It smells like a freakin’ hit, doesn’t it? Oh, man. Call Master P. I’m ready to record.

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