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Dear Poster Child for the Criminally Insane,
By the time you read this, I'll be a mother. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I finally got around to reading your "poems" this morning, and I figure that this is better than a bullet in the head. I know this might seem like a total violation of the laws of physics to you, seeing as we made all those plans to destroy the universe, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain high. I just need to plot your murder for another week and I'm set to go. I want to tell you that I think you are the worst Tetris player ever, 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 disappointed. You like playing Worms 3D, gay midgets, and feeding rice to sea gulls, 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 each other sometime in the next millennia. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I dig your cold, dead body up again to have sex with you. 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, at least before we met. Take care of yourself and never forget to eat your vegetables.
~ Your alternate reality granddaughter. P.S. You're fired! D.S. |