admin
22 December 2023
Sweetheart,
There’s no easy way to break this to you, so I’ll just put it like it needs to be put: You soul-sucking bitch, we are so fucking through! Over. Finito. I’m downsizing my love life. We just got to the landfill and your ass is dumped. I’ve been through a lot: girls on smack; girls with boyfriends; even girls with restraining orders. But I put all that behind me the day I hooked up with you. When we met at that Halloween party back in August of 2000, it was so unbelievably on. Now, just in time for Valentine’s Day, shit is so horribly off. We used to take long, intimate walks. Now you just nag at me to get a car. At one point, you had my pee-pee so stoked for your lovin’. Now my little rook thinks I’m the Boston Strangler, as he’s been deprived of “the real thing” for quite some time. (And no, I don’t mean Coca-Cola.) I know you’ll be mad at me for using this letter in tastes like chicken to ruin romantic February, but even that’s not my fault. I wanted to run this piece back in December, so we could be over with before I had to buy your sour ass a Christmas gift. Too bad for me and my bank account we already had a cover story. This may come across as harsh (mostly because it is), but I’m sure you’ll land on your feet. Most ravenous mountain badgers do. Besides, you need to find someone better-suited to your lifestyle needs. Not some car-less, goal-less, self-employed child like me. Maybe you could hook up with a rich web designer who fucks chihuahuas. Maybe that’d be more your speed. Whoever you end up with, realize that we’re finished. I’d tell you not to call me anymore, but you never did in the first place. Hope you spontaneously combust.
Love,
debbie
PS: Can you give me a ride to Best Buy? I have to take back that copy of Cats & Dogs you bought me, but the buses don’t run out there. Thanks.
There’s no easy way to break this to you, so I’ll just put it like it needs to be put: You soul-sucking bitch, we are so fucking through! Over. Finito. I’m downsizing my love life. We just got to the landfill and your ass is dumped. I’ve been through a lot: girls on smack; girls with boyfriends; even girls with restraining orders. But I put all that behind me the day I hooked up with you. When we met at that Halloween party back in August of 2000, it was so unbelievably on. Now, just in time for Valentine’s Day, shit is so horribly off. We used to take long, intimate walks. Now you just nag at me to get a car. At one point, you had my pee-pee so stoked for your lovin’. Now my little rook thinks I’m the Boston Strangler, as he’s been deprived of “the real thing” for quite some time. (And no, I don’t mean Coca-Cola.) I know you’ll be mad at me for using this letter in tastes like chicken to ruin romantic February, but even that’s not my fault. I wanted to run this piece back in December, so we could be over with before I had to buy your sour ass a Christmas gift. Too bad for me and my bank account we already had a cover story. This may come across as harsh (mostly because it is), but I’m sure you’ll land on your feet. Most ravenous mountain badgers do. Besides, you need to find someone better-suited to your lifestyle needs. Not some car-less, goal-less, self-employed child like me. Maybe you could hook up with a rich web designer who fucks chihuahuas. Maybe that’d be more your speed. Whoever you end up with, realize that we’re finished. I’d tell you not to call me anymore, but you never did in the first place. Hope you spontaneously combust.
Love,
debbie
PS: Can you give me a ride to Best Buy? I have to take back that copy of Cats & Dogs you bought me, but the buses don’t run out there. Thanks.
artid
26
Old Image
4_6_cover.swf
issue
vol 4 - issue 06 (feb 2002)
section
cover story