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 Featured Article (read another featured article)
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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear Flavour of the Month,
I know this might seem like a sudden turn of events to you, seeing as we made all those plans to run the 3rd marathon around the world together (tied together, that is), but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — but another officer is at the door - I'll write more in an hour. I just need more space. Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan is sounding pretty nice to me right now. I want to tell you that I think you are at least somewhat humanoid looking (which is about the only thing you have in common with mainstream humanity), but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are the disembodied head of Patrick Duffy, and I am worried about it. You like laying on the floor with all the lights off, gay midgets, and disturbing annual sci-fi conventions with whistles and cymbals, 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 — oh wait, I meant to write "hate" of course. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I need someone to help me move. I'd really like us to become an African-American comedy duo, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, with that goat up in the Himalayas. Take care of yourself and never forget that every time you masturbate, Friedrich Nietzsche kills God.
~ Your former sister-in-law.
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