Dear Anna, Jessica ... Sarah? ummmm whoever ...,
By the time you read this, I'll be in sunny Hawaii, drinking cheaply priced beer and completing my memoirs.
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 odd twist of fate
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to run the 3rd marathon around the world together (tied together, that is), but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — I think. I just need more length from you than I'm getting, and let's face it — you're shrinking with age.
I want to tell you that I think you are strangely charismatic, considering your freakishly odd appearance, 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 everything you will never be.
You like stamp collecting, gay midgets, and writing 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 everyone else in the world, just to find out the answer — or at least I should, you have no hope on that score.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I've poured rohypnol into your cocktail again.
I'd really like us to become Siamese twins (we might have to undergo an extensive surgery for that though),
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, at least while we were in separate cells at the police station.
Take care of yourself and never forget the restraining order the judge issued against you.
Yippee ki yay, motherfucker,
~ Everyone else.
P.S. You're fired! D.S.
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