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>
+
<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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Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Dear Sir/Madam,

By the time you read this, I'll be dead. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but you win some, you lose some - and in your case, you lose everything.

I know this might seem like an odd twist of fate to you, seeing as we made all those plans to vacation in the Ivory Coast, and smuggle bits of it home to sell on the black market, 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 more space. Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan is sounding pretty nice to me right now.

I want to tell you that I think you're ...exceedingly punctual, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You're committed, literally, and I'm scared of donuts. You like guessing the weight of elderly women, juggling chainsaws, 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 people. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever my herpes sores erupt.

I'd really like us to become "people that ignore each other in public", if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, at least before we met.

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.

~ Tiddles.

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