Dear John letter

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Friday, October 12, 2018  

Dear Cthulhu,

By the time you read this, I'll be fucking your sister. 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 an omitted chapter from Dante´s Divine Comedy to you, seeing as we made all those plans to infiltrate the "Red Cross" organization and shamelessly purloin their charity funds, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — or at least that's what you're supposed to say in these situations. I just need to find someone who is male and breathes — and quickly.

I want to tell you that I think you are like an impudent grain of sand, warring against a raging ocean, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a pederast, and I am not you. You like wearing my knickers on your noggin, painting your eyelids with pictures of eyeballs, and you cannot lie, the other brothers can't deny, when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung, 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 other species. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever my herpes sores erupt.

I'd really like us to become jaded, cynical and bitter in our own different ways, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, pretending we're screwing someone else.

Take care of yourself and never forget that I know where you buried the body, and won't hesitate to contact police should the need arise.

Allah Ackbar,

~ Grand Admiral of Switzerland.

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