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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear Lloyd Simcoe,
I know this might seem like punch in the jaw to you, seeing as we made all those plans to buy a million rubber ducks for all our retirement savings, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — it's just a shame I waited so long to do it, and wasted so much of my valuable time. I just need need need need need... well; I can't quite remember. I want to tell you that I think you are like a senile old parrot, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a Democrat, and I am a nun. You like guessing the weight of elderly women, dressing up as yourself during Halloween, and feeding rice to sea gulls, and I'm just not sure I can ever share your joy in those things. How can two people so different ever make it for the long haul? I think we should date on a neutron star. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I forget what your name was. I'd really like us to become partners in crime and rob helpless old ladies of their retirement savings, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, my left hand and I. Take care of yourself and never forget that it's going to take more than a restraining order to keep me away from our children — they are mine too and I will not be denied them.
~ Alan Smithee. |