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Monday, January 12, 2026
Dear yesterday's news,
By the time you read this, I'll be sneaking destroying angels into the button mushroom meal you'll be served within 5 minutes. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but you weren't at home, and anyways I forgot to bring my AK with me. I know this might seem like an unexpected departure to you, seeing as we made all those plans to spend at least more than two hours together, 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 to engage in homicidal behavior on a massive scale. It can not be corrected but I have no other way to fulfill my needs. I want to tell you that I think you are ...exceedingly punctual, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a card-carrying member of the Hair Club for Men, and I am into bodysurfing. You like laying on the floor with all the lights off, bobbing for old tires in the East River, and sewing extra limbs onto your body, 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 each other's pets. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever Saturn orbits Pluto. I'd really like us to become born-again strangers, 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 I'm much happier without you.
~ Sheila (my street name). |