Dear John letter

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Friday, May 15, 2026

Dear Santa,

By the time you read this, I'll be in midtown London on a massive shopping spree with your credit card that I kind of "borrowed" earlier today (the pincode is 8391, isn't it?). I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I have stolen three nuclear warheads and am planning to commit suicide by detonating them (in midtown New York, just to spice things up).

I know this might seem like a sudden turn of events to you, seeing as we made all those plans to live together in happily unwedded bliss, or a reasonable facsimile, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — well; not really. I just thought it'd sound good. 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 exceptionally undistinguished, in a boring, non-threatening way, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a balloon animal fan, and I am scared of donuts. You like flaying lambs, filling stuffed animals with ice cream, and filling guinea pigs with helium, 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 again, but only if we're re-incarnated into each other's bodies and I get to be "you" next time. Oh yes. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I need to steal borrow some cash from someone.

I'd really like us to become slowly solidified into a kind of buttery jell, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, even if they only lasted a few microseconds.

Take care of yourself and never forget to brush your teeth. Oh wait; you don't have any, you toothless old fuck.

42,

~ [Insert name of author here].

P.S. Can I borrow 5 bucks? D.S.