Elise from Elise's Pieces birthed a Dear Boys segment on her blog (the button links to it).
Normally I don't do link parties, but ehhh, why not?
Dear Goliath,
Why hello. We haven't spoken since 2008, but I noticed your muscles are looking quite vast today. Even moreso than in this picture of you saved as my desktop background . . . er, Dottie did that. Ya. I tried to stop her, the creep.
Maturely Yours,
Notta Stock R.
Dear Ex,
Don't forget about our lunch date next week. We can talk about your biceps and new girlfriend.
Your Friend,
Shut Up, This is Healthy
Dear MIA
If you write me a witty letter I'll smuggle you some boxes in which you can send me European chocolates and pocket-watches and maybe a drunk little man to sing jolly lullabies.
Cerely (sin is bad),
The Selflessest
Dear Elder Freddy,
Don't poop your pants. Again. Congrats on reaching new categories of public mortification for potty tails. Er, tales.
Your BFF,
Oh Holey Knight, My Pants are Ripped and Mooning.
Dear Samwise,
FAT JOKE.
Love,
I'll write you when the bathroom scale stops reading "to be continued."
Dear Kind, Witty, Chivalrous, and Loaded:
WHY ARE YOU SO 5'7"!???!??
Regrettably Yours,
5'9"
Dear Lil' Brudda,
Poof, you're a sandwich.
With Contempt,
Make One Yourself