Dear John letter

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Thursday, May 25, 2017  

Dear Freak of the Week,

By the time you read this, I'll be married. I regret to inform you that there were a number of contestants for my affections, and you were not the winner. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but to be honest, I'd be more sorry if I were to stay.

I know this might seem like an unexpected departure to you, seeing as we made all those plans to blow up the moon together, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain intoxicated. I just need to find someone who is male and breathes — and quickly.

I want to tell you that I think you are Jimbo, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are wanted in nineteen states, and I am a member of a religion that has repeatedly confirmed that people like that are going to burn in hell. You like attacking clergymen, harassing sheep until they explode, and belly-button sniffing, 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 other species. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I forget what your name was.

I'd really like us to become people that pretend they never dated, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, unless I was just dreaming.

Take care of yourself and never forget that you've only got one bullet left, it's going to take more than that to stop me.

Yours truly,

~ Lara Bingle.

P.S. I just found out that I have AIDS. That probably means you have it too. D.S.

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