Dear Captain Blackbeard,
By the time you read this, I'll be transferring my consciousness to a member of an extinct race of sentient egg-plants on planet Vollapus 620 million years ago.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I finally got around to reading your "poems" this morning, and I figure that this is better than a bullet in the head.
I know this might seem like I'm into polygamy or something just because I have five wives at the same time, but Elisab... Rebecca... umm, I mean Sarah, you're the only one who truly matters, I swear. Surely our time together must still mean something
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to kill your parents and claim the life insurance money, 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 more cowbell.
I want to tell you that I think you are my repressed feminine side, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a good-for-nothing crack whore,
and I am a grue and will certainly eat you the next time we meet.
You like laying on the floor with all the lights off, recording your own toilet visits and sharing it on file sharing networks as MP3's wrongfully named as famous songs, 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 people without AIDS.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I finally track you down and kill you.
I'd really like us to become acquaintances,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, before the psychatrist told me that you were my split personality all along.
Take care of yourself and never forget that time when I showed everyone a picture of your penis. That was funny.
Tonight we dine in Hell,
~ Sailor Moon.
P.S. That was an Amanita virosa (destroying angel) you ate yesterday, not a button mushroom as I thought. Oops, I guess I'm really bad with mushrooms... D.S.
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