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Dear John letter
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Dear me, I do believe I've forgotten your name,
By the time you read this, I'll be in ur pet store, huffing ur kittenz.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but attorneys cost money, and I'm eating for two now, if you know what I mean.
I know this might seem like a kick in the nuts
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to suck out the souls of those unworthy of a vampiric prowess, 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 to kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly.
I want to tell you that I think you are Jimbo, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are possessed by Pazuzu,
and I am scared of donuts.
You like sucking off the black guy that mows your lawn, huffing kittens, 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 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 a six-legged rhinoceros flies by.
I'd really like us to become partners in crime and rob helpless old ladies of their retirement savings,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, before I decided to read through your diary last week.
Take care of yourself and never forget that you are now statistically 50% less likely to ever find a lasting and fulfilling relationship during your lifetime.
Toodles,
~ Captain Oblivious.
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