Dear whatever your name may be,
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 to be honest, I'd be more sorry if I were to stay.
I know this might seem like a sudden turn of events
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to adopt a child from a third world country for media publicity, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — it's just a shame I waited so long to do it, and wasted so much of my valuable time. I just need more men, on some kind of rotating schedule.
I want to tell you that I think you are composed mainly of various carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus, iron, copper, magnesium, sulfur, calcium, potassium, iodine, sodium and silicon compounds (well, duh...), but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a blathering windbag who needs a nice big cup of shut the fuck up,
and I am suicidal.
You like sprinting through morning traffic while on fire, bobbing for old tires in the East River, and recommending suicide as the only viable cure for hiccups,
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 again, but in another life — preferably a previous one.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I go on another nightly tour to quench my vampiric thirst for human blood.
I'd really like us to become ultranerds who always writes in leet speech and uses Internet abbreviations such as LOL, ITA, IIRC, YMMV and IMHO in common speech,
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 I know where you buried the body, and won't hesitate to contact police should the need arise.
That'll teach you,
~ Your new ex.
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