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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear voices that I hear sometimes in my head,
I know this might seem like a sudden change to you, seeing as we made all those plans to drink the blood of every man, woman and child in Iraq, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — mostly. I just need more men, on some kind of rotating schedule. I want to tell you that I think you are a real pain in the ass, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a Sagittarius, and I am into streaking. You like other men, dating circus midgets, and recommending suicide as the only viable cure for hiccups, 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 each other as soon as possible, since the Internet connection on my computer isn't working, and I figured I could browse through your computer during our "date". But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I throw up. I'd really like us to become an African-American comedy duo, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, before we ended up in Hell together. Take care of yourself and never forget to have your pets sprayed and neutered.
~ Mom.
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