 |
  |
 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 Ex-Friend with Benefits,
I know this might seem like a cowardly way of telling you that I ran over your mom with fatal outcome just 10 minutes ago to you, seeing as we made all those plans to sink the British isles, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — but honestly, putting my hamster in the microwave was too much. I just need to go to the moon or a gay retared place. I want to tell you that I think you are in need of some serious physical therapy against your hideous acid breath, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are scared of sheep, and I am a grue and will certainly eat you the next time we meet. You like imitating 50s actors while shoe shopping, putting things on springs, and watching animal porn, 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 but only so I'll get another shot at killing your for real. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone mentions the words "anorexia", "bulimia" and/or "starvation" in my presence. I'd really like us to become jaded, cynical and bitter in our own different ways, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, at least before we met. Take care of yourself and never forget that every time you see a rainbow, someone is having gay sex.
~ Name and address withheld. |