Dear John letter

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Monday, August 31, 2015  

Dear Big Bertha,

By the time you read this, I'll be saving a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Gecko. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I don't think I could restrain myself from laughing about what I saw last night.

I know this might seem like a kick in the nuts to you, seeing as we made all those plans to visit Easter Island and go on an egg hunt, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — mostly. I just need need need need need... well; I can't quite remember.

I want to tell you that I think you are not as strong in the Force as the Emperor thought, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are one of Evil Bert's sinister henchmen, and I am into bodysurfing. You like beating yourself up in front of a mirror, dating circus midgets, and gas tungsten arc welding, 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 but only so I'll get another shot at killing your for real. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I find another piece of Titanic buried in my backyard.

I'd really like us to become snobbish self-styled intellectuals who always change the subject to 19th century Russian literature in order to look smart everytime a third person approaches, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, at least when we turned the clock forward a few hours and then pretended that something nice happened during that time (whereas nothing at all happened, really).

Take care of yourself and never forget that I'm no longer in a coma.

That'll teach you,

~ The itsy bitsy spider.

P.S. I think I ran over your mom with my car earlier today. At least I think it was her, but there wasn't much left to identify... D.S.

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