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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear Sperm Donor,
I know this might seem like a total violation of the laws of physics to you, seeing as we made all those plans to hack into Pentagon's databases and expose the alien cover-up in Roswell, 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 more cowbell. I want to tell you that I think you are my repressed masculine side, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a card-carrying member of the Hair Club for Men, and I am on drugs. You like bungee jumping from church steeples, painting your eyelids with pictures of eyeballs, and arguing with the voices only you can hear over dinner plans, 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 each other sometime in the next millennia. 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 friends, but I think that won't happen. I rather not speak to you again, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, well, no... but no-one else has to know that. Take care of yourself and never forget that despite all the nonsense I've written in this letter, I'm still going to track you down and kill you.
~ Yet Another Anonymous Sex Partner. |