Dear John letter

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<option> but another officer as it the door - I'll write more in an hour</option>
 
<option> but another officer as it the door - I'll write more in an hour</option>
 
<option> but if the writing's a but shakey that's only because of my helpless, loud and hysterical laughter</option>
 
<option> but if the writing's a but shakey that's only because of my helpless, loud and hysterical laughter</option>
<option> but as a bisexual, I'm interested in only two kinds of people &mdash; and quite frankly, you don't fit into either category
+
<option> but as a bisexual, I'm interested in only two kinds of people &mdash; and quite frankly, you don't fit into either category</option>
 
</choose>. I just need <choose>
 
</choose>. I just need <choose>
 
<option>more [[men]], on some kind of rotating schedule</option>
 
<option>more [[men]], on some kind of rotating schedule</option>
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<option>a bit of a laugh</option>
 
<option>a bit of a laugh</option>
 
<option>to kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly</option>
 
<option>to kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly</option>
<option>to find someone who is male and breathes - and quickly</option>
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<option>to find someone who is male and breathes &mdash; and quickly</option>
 
</choose>.
 
</choose>.
   

Revision as of 17:54, December 7, 2006

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Friday, December 19, 2014

Dear Poster Child for the Criminally Insane,

By the time you read this, I'll be transferring the last of our mutual savings to a bank account in Geneva. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but with the restraining order and everything, I was scared to use the phone again.

I know this might seem like a slap in the face to 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 — at least so long as I remain intoxicated. 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're not the worst lover I ever had, but that would be a bald-faced lie, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You're a card-carrying member of the Hair Club for Men, and I'm a Mousketeer. You like smoking banana peels, scratching yourself publicly, 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 on different continents. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I see a couple screaming at each other in public.

I'd really like us to become slowly solidified into a kind of buttery jell, 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 to double-bag "Uncle Willy" from now on.

~ Your former sister-in-law.

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