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Dear Passing Fancy,
By the time you read this, I'll be flat on my back, testing the Serta® 10 Year Mattress Spring Guarantee with our mutual friend Gary. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but enough is enough. I've HAD it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane! I know this might seem like a bit of a shock to you, seeing as we made all those plans to burn down our neighbor's house, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — but if the writing's a but shakey that's only because of my helpless, loud and hysterical laughter. I just need more time alone. No... More time away from you. All of it, really. Yeah. That's what I mean to say. I want to tell you that I think you are evil incarnate, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are possessed by Pazuzu, and I am a grue and will certainly eat you the next time we meet. You like other men, peeling watermelons, and smelling other people's fingers, 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 our respective parents, if only so we can feel unfaithful again. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever the hypnotism I'm paying for wears off. I'd really like us to become bitter enemies, constantly plotting each other's downfall until one of us (preferably me) succeeds, giving that person (again, preferably me) the opportunity to engage in stereotypical maniacal laughter, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, while we were three thousand miles away from each other. Take care of yourself and never forget that I'm being entirely serious.
~ Lara Bingle. P.S. I am your father. Search your feelings - you know it to be true. D.S. |