Dear John letter

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Revision as of 07:04, December 8, 2006

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Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Dear Prisoner 66734,

By the time you read this, I'll be in jail. Three hots and a cot, and the judge says I can refuse to see anyone I want, including you. Finally. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but time is money, and according to your most current bank statement you have insufficient funds to purchase additional time credits with me.

I know this might seem like a kick in the nuts to you, seeing as we made all those plans to grow old, fat and senile together, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain high. I just need more men, on some kind of rotating schedule.

I want to tell you that I think you're on my long list of middle-rated and easily forgotten ex's, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You're a Democrat, and I'm a member of a religion that has repeatedly confirmed that people like that are going to burn in hell. You like stamp collecting, putting things on springs, and practicing surgery on household pests, 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 need to tell my side of the story on Jerry Springer.

I'd really like us to become old without ever speaking to, or thinking of, each other ever again, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, five past seven on Sunday November 3rd 2003 springs to mind, for instance.

Take care of yourself and never forget that I know where you buried the body, and won't hesitate to contact police should the need arise.

~ Your sister.

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