 |
  |
 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 Person To Whom It May Concern,
I know this might seem like a total violation of the laws of physics to you, seeing as we made all those plans to drink the blood of every man, woman and child in Iraq, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — or at least that's what you're supposed to say in these situations. I just need to enter "4 8 15 16 23 42" into my command prompt every 108th minute. I want to tell you that I think you are not as strong in the Force as the Emperor thought, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a pederast, and I am into streaking. You like trying to fit inside sewer drains, dating circus midgets, and biking against red light at rush hour, 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 just as long as you are willing to spend half your life hanging by your pinkie toes, for that's the type of torture I have planned for you.. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone mentions the words "obesity", "fat" and/or "pig" in my presence. I'd really like us to become born-again strangers, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, before the police accidently found the body hidden in your closet. Take care of yourself and never forget that the xenomorph implanted in your chest is going to erupt and kill you violently within two hours.
~ Your new ex.
|