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Thursday, December 25, 2025
Dear yesterday's news,
By the time you read this, I'll be eating myself to death at a McDonald's restaurant. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but this world simply isn't big enough for the both of us. I know this might seem like a kick in the nuts 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 to kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly. I want to tell you that I think you are ...unusually odorous, in a good way... sometimes, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are the flesh and blood scion of the Devil himself, and I am hypersexual. You like urine sample collecting, putting things on springs, and watching DaxFlame on YouTube while singing "Lucy in the Sky of Diamonds", 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 I'm too lazy to clean my dishes by myself. I'd really like us to become engaged in a brutal medieval fight to the death with the good ole' armour, horse and lances (but only if I get to win), if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, way back in the 60's during Woodstock. Take care of yourself and never forget the restraining order the judge issued against you.
~ Concerned Citizen. P.S. They're coming to take me away! D.S. |