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Dear John letter
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Dear Ex-Friend with Benefits,
By the time you read this, I'll be writing to Uncyclopedia.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but you weren't at home, and anyways I forgot to bring my AK with me.
I know this might seem like an unexpected departure
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to push you into the sea tied to a large brick, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — but I've been stuck in this nightmare world for months now, and writing this letter is my last chance of a wake up call. I just need a bit of a laugh.
I want to tell you that I think you are dumb as a rock, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are an atheist,
and I am a schoolgirl.
You like toying with mousetraps, stabbing yourself with carrots, and disturbing annual sci-fi conventions with whistles and cymbals,
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 for the hell of it. It's not like we don't both have herpes.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I smell that characteristic composite stench of rotten eggs, garlic and blue cheese again.
I'd really like us to become jaded, cynical and bitter in our own different ways,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, way back in the 60's during Woodstock.
Take care of yourself and never forget that time when I showed everyone a picture of your penis. That was funny.
Sieg Heil,
~ Quinn the eskimo.
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