Why don’t you pick out your very favorite article of clothing and buy five of the exact same thing? I am absolutely obsessed with this leopard print shirt that I bought last summer in Nice. It has a hole in it, and I am losing my mind. Thankfully, it’s available to purchase online. I need to get several just so that I never run out. It might be a bit pricy to buy five of the exact same shirt, but I’ve always been a fan of a personal uniform — and it’s cheaper than buying one that looks identical at Saint Laurent for $850. Bless the Internet.
Why don’t you write a letter to Karl Lagerfeld and insist that Chanel release a car fragrance? I absolutely adore Chanel’s Pour Monsieur cologne. I wear it every day and receive endless compliments. It smells luxurious and makes you feel like your dripping with diamonds. Maybe that’s just me. But, I haven’t been able to find any designer fragrances for my new car. I can find all the junk I want from Yankee Candle, but nothing by Chanel, Dior, or Saint Laurent? Is this not the modern world? Please get with it, beloved designers.
Why don’t you tell everybody you have a twin? Then, if you’re at the mall and you see somebody you absolutely detest, you can ignore them without guilt because they saw your twin, not you! This will be convenient in so many situations. You can sign up for two birthday coupons from restaurants. You can use your twin as an excuse to get out of plans. You can live your best life with an imaginary twin; start today!
Why don’t you go to a cathedral and light a candle for me? I have a head cold, you see, and I feel a quite close to death. In fact, I await the comforting embrace of the Grim Reaper. It will be so nice to sleep eternity away instead of waking up every hour, choking on snot and my own tears. So, send positive thoughts out into the universe for me, dear and gentle readers. I’m too young to die, andI still haven’t discovered an ancient Egyptian tomb.
Why don’t you hire a private investigator to find out who stole all of my bobby pins? Seriously, I’ve used three, and the entire package is gone. Who’s gonna steal bobby pins? They cost a nickel. It’s not my cat and it’s not the house ghost, so I can’t figure this one out. I refuse to be a victim in my own home. Help me, readers.