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Dear John letter
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For those
without comedic tastes, the "questionable parody" of this website called
Wikipedia have an article about
Dear John letter.
Dear John Bull,
By the time you read this, I'll be devolved into an amorphous amoeba.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but to be honest, I'd be more sorry if I were to stay.
I know this might seem like a bit of a shock
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to spend at least more than two hours together, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — but if the writing's a but shakey that's only because of my helpless, loud and hysterical laughter. I just need to put this facade you've been living to an end, before I run out of script material. Ghostwriters cost a fortune.
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 angry.
You like navel lint collecting, gay midgets, 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 Friday and then try to kill each other through strangulation (or with knives) just for fun.
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 people that pretend they never dated,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, before the psychatrist told me that you're just a figment of my imagination.
Take care of yourself and never forget that the world is going to end unless you enter the code "4 8 15 16 23 42" into the micro-computer every 108:th minute.
Sieg Heil,
~ Princess Peach.
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