Dear John letter
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Saturday, September 20, 2014
Dear Sex toy,
By the time you read this, I'll be the first triple MILLION winner EVER in the NATIONAL LOTTERY!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. 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 karmic kannibalism to you, seeing as we made all those plans to alphabetize our combined compact disc collections someday, 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 sex, and for longer than the 3 minutes and 2 inches you're able to provide... or was it the other way around? Anyway...
I want to tell you that I think you're strangely charismatic, considering your freakishly odd appearance, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You're scared of sheep, and I'm vastly more intelligent than that. You like guessing the weight of elderly women, scratching yourself publicly, and belly-button sniffing, 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 my herpes sores erupt.
I'd really like us to become "people that pretend not to know each other", 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 you are now statistically 50% less likely to ever find a lasting and fulfilling relationship during your lifetime.