By the time you read this, I'll be omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent.I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I have stolen three nuclear warheads and am planning to commit suicide by detonating them (in midtown New York, just to spice things up).
I know this might seem like a crappy thing to doto 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 — sorry that I didn't take the chance to get rid of you last month, but I promise I'll make up for it the next time we meet.I just need to kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly.
I want to tell you that I think you are like a senile old parrot, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are an atheist,and I am worried about it.You like trying to fit inside sewer drains,scratching yourself publicly, 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 our respective parents, if only so we can feel unfaithful again.But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me to define the word "promiscuous".
I'd really like us to become road sweepers or something,if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, nah; I'm just screwing with you.
Take care of yourself and never forget all the people we've killed together.