 |
  |
 Featured Article (read another featured article)
|
Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
| This article has been featured on the main page. — You can vote for or nominate your favourite articles at Uncyclopedia:VFH. | |
 |
Dear Miss Universe,
I know this might seem like a very large malignant tumour on your L4 vertebrae (and to be truthful, it is) 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 another officer is at the door - I'll write more in an hour. I just need to finish that annoying Zork game on that Uncyclopedia website I told you about yesterday (it's driving me crazy, it's like no matter what you do, you'll ALWAYS end up being eaten by a grue!). I want to tell you that I think you are ...good at Scrabble, if slightly obsessed with it, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a furry, and I am not the type of person to be running around screaming that I have a "relationship". You like bungee jumping from church steeples, insult sword fighting, and arguing with the voices only you can hear over dinner plans, 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 for the hell of it. It's not like we don't both have herpes. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me why I'm such a cold, heartless, cat-owning woman (sniff). I'd really like us to become snobbish self-styled intellectuals who always change the subject to 19th century Russian literature in order to look smart everytime a third person approaches, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, up until the effect of the morphine wore off. Take care of yourself and never forget to double-bag "Uncle Willy" from now on.
~ George Philipp Telemann.
|