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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear Person To Whom It May Concern,
I know this might seem like a sudden change to you, seeing as we made all those plans to slowly fade into non-existence, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain intoxicated. I just need to find someone who is male and breathes — and quickly. I want to tell you that I think you are my personal Jiminy Cricket, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are heiress to the throne of Rondark, and I am worried about it. You like stamp collecting, lassoing people on subways cars, and igniting your own fart, 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 other planets. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me to define the word "promiscuous". I'd really like us to become people that ignore each other in public, 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 the hard work of the ten million chained up monkeys with typewriters that wrote this letter.
~ Dalai Llama. |