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Thursday, December 25, 2025
Dear Anonymous,
By the time you read this, I'll be heading towards Mordor in a suicide attempt to throw the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom. 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 a bit of a shock 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 — well, sort of, at least, kind of, maybe, a little... I just need more men, on some kind of rotating schedule. I want to tell you that I think you are my repressed feminine side, 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 angry. You like beating yourself up in front of a mirror, dressing up as yourself during Halloween, and arguing with the voices only you can hear over dinner plans, 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 own mirror images. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone mentions the words "seven and half", "inch" and "cock" in my presence. I'd really like us to become old without ever speaking to, or thinking of, each other ever again, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, at least before we met. Take care of yourself and never forget where you leave the keys. Honestly, those things are are a PAIN to find again.
~ Bruce Wayne. P.S. I just found out that I have AIDS. That probably means you have it too. D.S. |