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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear yesterday's news,
I know this might seem like an omitted chapter from Dante´s Divine Comedy to you, seeing as we made all those plans to trade all our remaining STDs even-steven, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — I think. I just need more men, on some kind of rotating schedule. I want to tell you that I think you are evil and manipulative, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a Nazi war criminal, and I am not the type of person to be running around screaming that I have a "relationship". You like fondling barnyard animals, lassoing people on subways cars, and practicing surgery on household pests, 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 virtualized Sim replicas of each other. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I make additions to my personal list of people I intend to kill. I'd really like us to become born-again strangers, 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 that every time you masturbate, Friedrich Nietzsche kills God.
~ Cato the Elder.
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