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Dear John letter

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Friday, November 7, 2025  

Dear Freak of the Week,


By the time you read this, I'll be on a pilgrimage to Sears to buy "sporting goods" for my weekend adventure with the male cast members of "My Name Is Earl". I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I don't think I could restrain myself from laughing about what I saw last night.

I know this might seem like a punch in the jaw 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 enter "4 8 15 16 23 42" into my command prompt every 108th minute.

I want to tell you that I think you are a..well...um...okay, nice...yeah...maybe, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are the disembodied head of Patrick Duffy, and I am worried about it. You like flaying lambs, recording your own toilet visits and sharing it on file sharing networks as MP3's wrongfully named as famous songs, and filling guinea pigs with helium, 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 in Hell, after killing each other. 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 snobbish self-styled intellectuals who always change the subject to 19th century Russian literature in order to look smart everytime a third person approaches, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, before you decided to become yourself and get to be so much of a stuck-up prig.

Take care of yourself and never forget that pushing Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A Start on your keyboard may be fatal to your health.

Good bye and good riddance!,

~ The daemon swineherd in the twilit grotto.

P.S. You are the one billionth person to read this letter. Click here to receive your prize! D.S.

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