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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Tuesday, November 5, 2024
Dear Freak of the Week,
I know this might seem like an omitted chapter from Dante´s Divine Comedy to you, seeing as we made all those plans to infiltrate the "Save the Children" organization and shamelessly purloin their charity funds, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — I think. I just need need need need need... well; I can't quite remember. I want to tell you that I think you are my repressed masculine side, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are one of Evil Bert's sinister henchmen, and I am enigmatic. You like fondling barnyard animals, stabbing yourself with carrots, and gas tungsten arc welding, 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 again someday, but only if you go in for surgery and get you brain replaced. And your nose. Or to keep it simple, ask them to change everything but your name. Or have them change that as well, unless doing so would complicate billing. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone mentions the words "ugly", "useless" and/or "stupid" in my presence. 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, unless I was just dreaming. Take care of yourself and never forget how much lower your reputation will slip as soon as I publish this on my blog.
~ Your sycophantic lodger whom you will never be rid of.
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