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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear Person To Whom It May Concern,
I know this might seem like a sudden change to you, seeing as we made all those plans to slowly cannibalize each other one bite at a time, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain high. I just need more cowbell. I want to tell you that I think you are not as good looking as your MySpace photo made it appear, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are the only one in the world who actually thinks Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer are funny, and I am an amateur weightlifter. You like stomping on turtles after eating mushrooms, scratching yourself publicly, 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 on other planets. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I must scream for help because someone has raped me (again). 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, nah; I'm just screwing with you. Take care of yourself and never forget where you leave the keys. Honestly, those things are are a PAIN to find again.
~ Norman Bates.
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