By the time you read this, I'll be eaten alive by Jabba the Hutt.I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but your needs are inherently less important than mine.
I know this might seem like a letter of indulgenceto you, seeing as we made all those plans to spend at least more than two hours together, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — mostly.I just need need need needneed... well; I can't quite remember.
I want to tell you that I think you are ...alive and breathing, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a card-carrying member of the Hair Club for Men,and I am deaf, dumb and blind.You like sucking off the black guy that mows your lawn,masturbating to gardening shows, andwriting love letters to Bob Saget,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 and wherever. Just joshing you. You suck.
I'd really like us to become nihilistic Al-Qaedaterrorists and blow up everything that moves,if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, with that goat up in the Himalayas.
Take care of yourself and never forget that time when I showed everyone a picture of your penis. That was funny.