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Dear Sperm Donor,
By the time you read this, I'll be trying to cut off my own legs with a toothbrush (just to see if it can be done). 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 an insidious scheme to dominate the universe to you, seeing as we made all those plans to buy a million rubber ducks for all our retirement savings, 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 more men, on some kind of rotating schedule. I want to tell you that I think you are strangely charismatic, considering your freakishly odd appearance, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a furry, and I am deaf, dumb and blind. You like playing Worms 3D, masturbating to gardening shows, and watching animal porn, 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 I forget what your name was. 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, at least when we turned the clock forward a few hours and then pretended that something nice happened during that time (whereas nothing at all happened, really). Take care of yourself and never forget that your psychiatrist thinks you're a jerk too.
~ (Jenny is being disconnected, so don't try calling). |