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Tuesday, February 3, 2026
Dear Acquaintance,
By the time you read this, I'll be spreading all your diaries around on file-sharing networks (scanners can be so fun sometimes, yah!). I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but attorneys cost money, and I'm eating for two now, if you know what I mean. I know this might seem like a big sick demented joke in a vortex of meaninglessness to you, seeing as we made all those plans to vacation in the Ivory Coast, and smuggle bits of it home to sell on the black market, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain intoxicated. I just need a dirty magazine, my right hand and a toilet paper — that's all it takes, really. I want to tell you that I think you are the true identity of the Zodiac Killer, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are not even real, just a Sim character I created last week in The Sims 3, and I am your father. You like guessing the weight of elderly women, lassoing people on subway cars, and making faces at babies until they cry, 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 at Arlington National Cemetery. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me to define the word "promiscuous". I'd really like us to become a Heathcliff and Catherine-like ghost couple and creep out softhearted onlookers in our restless afterlife, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, well, no... but no-one else has to know that. Take care of yourself and never forget our honeymoon in the Future.
~ Your split personality. |