Dear John letter

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Monday, March 2, 2015  

Dear all-boobs-and-no-brains,

By the time you read this, I'll be feeding your pet goldfishes to my cats Hortensia and Petunia. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I finally got around to reading your "poems" this morning, and I figure that this is better than a bullet in the head.

I know this might seem like punch in the jaw to you, seeing as we made all those plans to throw the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom in Mordor, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — sorry that I didn't take the chance to get rid of you last month, but I promise I'll make up for it the next time we meet. 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 are really quite adequate, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a satanist, and I am that lonely obsessed stalker who refused to just settle for your autograph. You like imitating 50s actors while shoe shopping, tripping on your own shoelaces on purpose just so you can blame the jews for it, and nibbling off wires to public computers at libraries and Internet cafés, 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 I practice knife stabbing on mannequin dolls.

I'd really like us to become partners in crime and steal candy from helpless little kids, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, before you decided to become yourself and get to be so much of a stuck-up prig.

Take care of yourself and never forget that I'm much happier without you.

Living is easy with eyes closed,

~ The Speaking Clock.

P.S. I have two tickets to New Orleans Square and was wondering if you'd like to come with me? You know, just in memory of the good 'ol days? D.S.

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