By the time you read this, I'll be mutated into something unrecognizable.I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I've misplaced my copy of Paul Simon's "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" and I had to improvise.
I know this might seem like a very large malignant tumour on your L4 vertebrae (and to be truthful, it is)to you, seeing as we made all those plans to terrorize the elderly couple that lives down the road, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — but as a bisexual, I'm interested in only two kinds of people — and quite frankly, you don't fit into either category.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 exceptionally undistinguished, in a boring, non-threatening way, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a blathering windbag who needs a nice big cup of shut the fuck up,and I am stuck in an elevator and slowly succumbing to my own flatulence (since I had nothing but pea soup and brown beans this morning).You like beating yourself up in front of a mirror,pretending to be Captain America, andsmelling your fingers,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 but only so I'll get another shot at killing your for real.But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me if I've ever picked up a hitchhiker I really regret picking up.
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, I think.
Take care of yourself and never forget where you leave the keys. Honestly, those things are are a PAIN to find again.
~ You, before you became amnesiac.
P.S. This is what the alphabet would look like without Q and R. D.S.