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, April 1, 2015

Dear Penis (with life support system attachment),

By the time you read this, I'll be married. I regret to inform you that there were a number of contestants for my affections, and you were not the winner. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but with your breath, a letter seemed the safest option.

I know this might seem like a disappointing turn for the worse 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 — I think. I just need a bit of a laugh.

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 wanted in nineteen states, and I'm Republican. You like stamp collecting, contemplating suicide (but always being so damned indecisive), and gas tungsten arc welding, 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 want to remember what suffering feels like.

I'd really like us to become "people that pretend they never dated", if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, or so we'll pretend.

Take care of yourself and never forget to double-bag "Uncle Willy" from now on.

~ Mom.

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