Dear Brian, Derek ... Frank? ummmm whoever ...,
By the time you read this, I'll be living in your house and drinking your coffee.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but with all the botox in your face, I might as well be fraternizing with mannequins instead. At least those don't have every STD known to man...
I know this might seem like an omitted chapter from Dante´s Divine Comedy
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to alphabetize our combined compact disc collections someday, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — but honestly, putting my hamster in the microwave was too much. 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 ...exceedingly punctual, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a satanist,
and I am a member of a religion that has repeatedly confirmed that people like that are going to burn in hell.
You like traveling to other cities and show up uninvited at total strangers birthday parties, harassing sheep until they explode, and nibbling off wires to public computers at libraries and Internet cafés,
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 virtualized Sim replicas of each other.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone mentions the words "two", "inch" and "penis" in my presence.
I'd really like us to become Siamese twins (we might have to undergo an extensive surgery for that though),
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, even if they only lasted a few microseconds.
Take care of yourself and never forget that every time you wish for coal as a Christmas present, you'll get porridge instead.
Ding dong, the witch is dead,
~ (name is not important as we are all so much more than our names).
P.S. Give me five million dollars now, or I'll scratch my own eyeballs out. Just kidding, he he he! I bet you fell for that one. D.S.
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