by the time you read this, i’ll be blowing your best friend. i’m sorry for doing this but, you left me no other choice. i know this might comes as a bit of a shock to you – especially because you’re an emotional cripple. but I’m sorry – i just need space. i think you’re swell, but i don’t think we’re right for each other. first of all, we’re not compatible. you’re a republican, and i’m beyond that. you like watching TV, you eat noisily, and enjoy televised sports, and i don’t like any of these things. your favorite movie is patch adams, and your favorite band is whitesnake. do you even know what my favorite movie or band is? i once asked you what color my eyes are and you said “nuke me some fucking hash browns!”. anyway, i want to date the first drunk barfly who’ll talk to me. but you know what? i still want to be acquaintances. we can totally have hot sloppy booty calls. we had some good times, or so it looks on the videotape (even though I’m passed out). but please, don’t be bitter like last time. that means no crying. and look – i won’t even make an issue out of the money you owe me, or the fact that you auctioned our love child. so take care of yourself – and choke on your own vomit.
p.s. i faked every orgasm.