Showing posts with label Men dig a lady that can kick some butt as long as it isn't theirs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Men dig a lady that can kick some butt as long as it isn't theirs. Show all posts

An Open Letter To Princess Peach

Dear Princess Peach,

I'm writing this letter on Mario's behalf. He's tired. I'd write on Luigi's behalf but he's not too bright and doesn't seem to notice the futility of his efforts. So this one is just for Mario.

Mario has been running, jumping, swimming, flying and fighting a slew of villains since 1985.  All in an attempt to save you. At first it was cool, but Peach, may I call you Peach? this has got to stop. It's almost 2010, you should be able to escape Bowser's castle by yourself or at the very least help. This whole helplessly standing around in an evening gown isn't going to cut it anymore. Buy a power drill. Swing a hammer. It's very liberating and I'm sure that Bowser would think twice about kidnapping you if you were holding a chainsaw.




Nice hair. Once more not 1985 anymore.

You are a lucky girl to have such great friends. I have to be honest, if one of my friends got kidnapped by a hunchback turtle/dragon/monster every time they had a party I would stop attending their parties. I suppose that might make me sound like a bad friend but at some point you have to put your foot down.

Peach, if Meg Ryan can pretend to be in the military, if Jennifer Lopez can learn to fight off her would be killer estranged husband, if the other Kardashian sister can have a baby out of wedlock then you can learn to jump over a few ax wielding turtles. There really isn't any excuse for your laziness. Mario has traveled through galaxies for you yet you can't even update your wardrobe.

I can imagine that it's quite exhausting for Mario to constantly be running after you. Seriously, Peach, there's playing hard to get and then there's just plain being a tease. Cut the little Italian some slack or at the very least let him know you aren't really into him. Maybe Bowser's more your thing. That would explain a lot actually.

Here is the ultimatum, Peach. Take a self-defense course, buy a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, get a more stylish do and let Mario know how you really feel about him. It's about time. Plus my fingers are cramping and I'm starting to get a callus on my thumb from playing Super Mario.

Because no one should be stuck in a rut this long,

Me and Mario