Linky, linky Dear World.

It's Friday yo. What better day to jump on the ole bandwagon? And if you have some sort of history degree (Ha, I have one of those! Useless!) or wikipedia article that states one of the six remaining week days is actually better suited to the task, keep it to yourself. Show off.

So linking up to Friday letters because it's an excuse to dump a whole bunch of cell pics without having to think of a clever title where I tell you I'm going to dump a whole bunch of cell pics. Bam.

Dear Summer,

Finally. So you decided to official grace us with your presence this week. Don't be a diva about it. We've been faking you were here for weeks now. Still, stay a while and provide us with all your beach and watermelon and slip and slide goodness. Throw in some drive in nights and we can go exclusive. Until September when I plan on dumping your sunny butt for a scarf and pumpkin frap. But forget I said that. Me, you and Tahoe this weekend?

Dear Whole Foods,

Keeping doing what you do. Your pizza keeps my baby full when I don’t want to cook and your endless supply of birds out the window feasting on organic hummus and quinoa salad crumbs keep him entertained while I shovel a piece down my own throat. I’m down for a weekly date.

Dear Target,

Your cheap goods give me a temporary shopping thrill and the perfect disguise for my plan to rob an ice cream truck. Wait, did I just publicize that? Crap. Now I need to go back and get new stuff. Yes. Wait, I mean double crap. Yeah, the second one bank account, the second one.

Dear Belly,

For real? I know I have hobbit toes but just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there. I learned that when I was five. Or maybe it was fifteen? Somewhere in that decade. Either way. That’s why a hedge behind me just won’t work in the office. Then again…