Dear John letter

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Thursday, March 15, 2018  

Dear pointless entity,

By the time you read this, I'll be the first triple MILLION winner EVER in the NATIONAL LOTTERY! Yay. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but seeing you without makeup made homosexuality suddenly seem very feasible to me.

I know this might seem like a crappy thing to do to you, seeing as we made all those plans to push the boundaries of human genetics past the point of good taste by procreating, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — but another officer is at the door - I'll write more in an hour. I just need need need need need... well; I can't quite remember.

I want to tell you that I think you are composed mainly of various carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus, iron, copper, magnesium, sulfur, calcium, potassium, iodine, sodium and silicon compounds (well, duh...), but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a Sagittarius, and I am allergic to air. You like flicking staples at livestock, peeling watermelons, and dissecting frogs with butterknives, 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 when Hell freezes over. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me why I'm such a cold, heartless, cat-owning woman (sniff).

I'd really like us to become permanently estranged, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, before the psychiatrist told me that you're just a figment of my imagination.

Take care of yourself and never forget that you've only got one bullet left, it's going to take more than that to stop me.

Happy Thanksgiving,

~ Captain Oblivious.

P.S. Do you know what the blue rhino said to the green elephant? If so, write it to me in return, because I don't. D.S.