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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Sunday, October 25, 2026
Dear other half,
I know this might seem like a sudden change to you, seeing as we made all those plans to terrorize the elderly couple that lives down the road, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — but honestly, putting my hamster in the microwave was too much. I just need to kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly. I want to tell you that I think you are the Mr. Hyde to my Doctor Jekyll, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are so fat that Jupiter orbits around you sometimes, and I am an amateur weightlifter. You like guessing the weight of elderly women, tripping on your own shoelaces on purpose just so you can blame the jews for it, and nibbling off wires to public computers at libraries and Internet cafés, 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 when Hell freezes over. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I practice knife stabbing on mannequin dolls. I'd really like us to become old without ever speaking to, or thinking of, each other ever again, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, which lasted until you unexpectedly woke up from your coma. Take care of yourself and never forget that I have the Infinity Gauntlet and is thus the supreme being of this universe.
~ 4.252.99.182.
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