By the time you read this, I'll be at the Prancing Pony, waiting for the wizard to arrive.I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but it's not like the world isn't going to end on December 21, 2012 anyway.
I know this might seem like an Uncyclopedia in-joketo you, seeing as we made all those plans to grow old, fat and senile together, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — it's just a shame I waited so long to do it, and wasted so much of my valuable time.I just need to go to the moon or a gay retared place.
I want to tell you that I think you are my personal Jiminy Cricket, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are the only one in the world who actually thinks Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer are funny,and I am a member of a religion that has repeatedly confirmed that people like that are going to burn in hell.You like toying with mousetraps,harassing sheep until they explode, andwriting love letters to Bob Saget,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, but only if we're re-incarnated into each other's bodies and I get to be "you" next time. Oh yes.But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone jokingly claims that there's a monster standing behind me.
I'd really like us to become snobbish self-styled intellectuals who always change the subject to 19th century Russian literature in order to look smart everytime a third person approaches,if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, assuming that "good times" is just another way of saying "total suckage".
Take care of yourself and never forget that your psychiatrist thinks you're a jerk too.