Dear John letter

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Tuesday, March 31, 2015  

Dear Big Bertha,

By the time you read this, I'll be eating myself to death at a McDonald's restaurant. 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 an omitted chapter from Dante´s Divine Comedy to you, seeing as we made all those plans to live together in happily unwedded bliss, or a reasonable facsimile, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — but as a bisexual, I'm interested in only two kinds of people — and quite frankly, you don't fit into either category. I just need to put this facade you've been living to an end, before I run out of script material. Ghostwriters cost a fortune.

I want to tell you that I think you are the creep who's making all those nightly phone calls where only heavy breathing is heard, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are an epic fail, and I am a Mousketeer. You like playing Worms 3D, putting things on springs, and you cannot lie, the other brothers can't deny, when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung, 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 each other as soon as possible, since the Internet connection on my computer isn't working, and I figured I could browse through your computer during our "date". But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me what the ultimate expression of the ongoing cultural and genetic decay of humanity is.

I'd really like us to become an African-American comedy duo, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, before you decided to become yourself and get to be so much of a stuck-up prig.

Take care of yourself and never forget that I have the sniper rifle, and I know how to use it.

Bye,

~ Your sister.

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