Dear John letter
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Sunday, December 21, 2014
Dear Flavour of the Month,
By the time you read this, I'll be at Community Hospital, being prepared for a sex-change operation. Our time together made me realize some important things about myself. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but attorneys cost money, and I'm eating for two now, if you know what I mean.
I know this might seem like , complicated, bewildering, and kind of erotic 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 — but another officer as it the door - I'll write more in an hour. I just need more men, on some kind of rotating schedule.
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 a Democrat, and I'm on my own plane of psychological existence. You like guessing the weight of elderly women, bobbing for old tires in the East River, and making faces at babies until they cry, 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 again someday, but only if you go in for surgery and get you brain replaced. And your nose. Or to keep it simple, ask them to change everything but your name. Or have them change that as well, unless doing so would complicate billing. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever the police ask me where I bought the stuff.
I'd really like us to become road sweepers or something, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, at least during those many hours of drug and alcohol induced unconsciousness.
Take care of yourself and never forget the restraining order the judge issued against you.