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Monday, September 2, 2013

An Open Letter From Miley's Foam Finger


Dear Public,

I think it only fair that you hear my side of the story, but to do that we must start at the very beginning. 

I was born in a production plant in Ohio where I lived out a humbled childhood. From as far back as I can remember I dreamed of becoming something great. However, my parents weren't as optimistic for my future. 

Before their retirement they both worked long nights as foam curlers. I don't blame them for their pessimism. Bratty little girls laid on them night after night just so they could awake the next day with perfectly coiffed ringlets for school picture day. I won't lie. It took a toll on them after a while. They eventually became so jaded by the polyethylene industry that they didn't think I would ever grow up to be anything more than a packing peanut. 

I still had dreams, though. I hoped to one day make it to Nashville where I would line the walls of a recording studio. While functioning as soundproofing material I would also witness stars being born and hear songs long before they would ever be released to the public.

When I found out I was going to be turned into a foam finger I was disappointed, but only slightly. I had proved my parents wrong. I was destined for greatness and I eagerly anticipated the fan that would one day don me in celebration of their favorite team. I yearned to be held high above a roaring stadium crowd. "Who cares if I end up in the hands of a New York Jets fan. I also make a really great seat cushion," I thought.

Flash forward to August 25, 2013 when I was pulled out of a box and handed to a person holding a microphone. I could hear singing and a cheering crowd, but something told me this wasn't a football game. My memory of what happened next is fuzzy. Despite blacking out several times, I do know that the girl with the microphone violated me in ways I could have never imagined. 

I awoke some time later on a dusty closet shelf where I remain to this day contemplating my existence. This is not the future I had hoped for. I assure you that if I could hold up a different finger I would.

Will I ever be used for something wholesome? 

Will a good samaritan ever come along and douse me with bleach to kill what I'm fairly certain is a severe case of herpes?

My parents were right. I should've been a packing peanut. 

Sincerely yet hopeful,

The Foam Finger

12 comments :

  1. Only you-thanks for making my morning!

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    1. You're so sweet!! I'm glad I made you laugh. XOXO

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  2. Lori, you are genius! This was HILARIOUS!!! Why are they not shouting your name from the rooftops? I know I will be, and I'll get a nice big foam finger to help me out.

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    1. Lol, you are too much!! Thank you!! And before you try on the foam finger you should sanitize it just in case they recycle.

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  3. Omg this was amazing. Finally a fresh take on one of the most talked about events this summer. Thanks for the laugh!

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    1. Thanks for your comment. I love it. I just thought, "Oh, that poor foam finger! We should have a benefit concert for it or something."

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  4. Freakin' hilarious! I never thought to feel sorry for the finger...the poor dear!

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    1. Thanks, Suzanna. We should start a support group for it.

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  5. Can I just say I will now respect foam rollers so much more after reading this. And I will never use a foam finger ever. You just don't know where it's been.

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    1. Those were the two main takeaways and you nailed both of them!

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