Dear other half,
By the time you read this, I'll be at Community Hospital, being prepared for a sex-change operation. Our time together made me realize some important things about myself.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I know what you're thinking: "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself a question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?
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 grow old, fat and senile together, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — really. No, really. Those are teardrops on the letter, and not spittle from laughter. I just need more time alone. No... More time away from you. All of it, really. Yeah. That's what I mean to say.
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 committed, literally,
and I am a nun.
You like to sabotage ice hockey matches by repeatedly throwing out extra pucks onto the rink, masturbating to gardening shows, and making faces at babies until they cry,
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 I watch Aphex Twin's music video for Windowlicker and the "hot babe" turns around.
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, my left hand and I.
Take care of yourself and never forget the hard work of the ten million chained up monkeys with typewriters that wrote this letter.
Affectionally yours,
~ [Insert name of author here].
P.S. You are the one billionth person to read this letter. Click here to receive your prize! D.S.
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