Letter writing for the interest starved...

#1
It may fill 3 minutes of your action-packed day:

Dear Gonorrhea Geyser,

By the time you read this, I'll be hocking your jewelry. I'm sorry for doing this but, OK, I'm really not. I know this might comes as a bit of a brain aneurysm to you - especially because I've been hiding at the bottom of a jug of Gallo. But I'm sorry – I just need hot sex with someone who isn't a human potato sack. I think you're swell, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not compatible. You're a Scientologist, and I'm sensitive. You like boudoir role-playing, you eat with your feet, and enjoy defrauding the elderly, and I don't like one of these things. Your favorite movie is The Bare Wench Project, and your favorite band is Whitesnake. Do you even know what my favorite movie or band is? I once asked you what color my eyes are and you said "Greenish blue-brown". Anyway, I want to date the first drunk barfly who'll talk to me. But you know what? I still want to be acquaintances. We can totally live on opposite coasts . We had some good times, or so it looks on the videotape (even though I'm passed out) . But please, don't worry like last time. That means no committing arson. And look - I won't even make an issue out of the $1,000 you owe me, or the fact that you punched my grandmother. So take care of yourself - and enjoy prison.

Yours In Contempt,

Darth

P.S. Your box is nasty stank.
Go here if you feel like it...work safe.
 

Bits

War Hero
#2
Dear Bitch,

By the time you read this, I'll be servicing your sister. I'm sorry for doing this but, you left me no other choice. I know this might comes as a bit of a shock to you - especially because you're such a materialistic self-absorbed bitch. But I'm sorry – I just need hot sex with someone who isn't a human potato sack. I think you're great, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not compatible. You're a Pisces, and I'm beyond that. You like watching TV, you eat noisily, and enjoy Aqua Velva, and I don't like any of these things. Your favorite movie is Glitter, and your favorite band is N SYNCH. Do you even know what my favorite movie or band is? I once asked you what color my eyes are and you said "White". Anyway, I want to date someone with the same sticky groinal parts as me. But you know what? I still want to be stalked. We can totally file restraining orders . We had some good times, or so you told me . But please, don't get all John Wayne Gacy like last time. That means no botched suicide attempts. And look - I won't even make an issue out of the $5,000 you owe me, or the fact that you totaled my car. So take care of yourself - and good luck.

Stop Calling Me,

Bits
Do you think that was put together by a female? Some of the choices on there certainly seem more likely to be aimed at men than women.

'Too buried in porn to notice'? I can't see that being levelled at any of my ex-s!
 

scaryspice

LE
Moderator
#3
Dear Thimble Dick,

By the time you read this, I'll be maxing out your Visa. I'm sorry for doing this but, you left me no other choice. I know this might comes as a bit of a shock to you - especially because you're too buried in porn to notice. But I'm sorry – I just need a change. I think you're a schmuck, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not compatible. You're a Pisces, and I'm vastly superior to you. You like leather harnesses, you eat inorganic produce, and enjoy flea markets, and I don't like any of these things. Your favorite movie is Anything Steven Segal, and your favorite band is Jefferson Starship. Do you even know what my favorite movie or band is? I once asked you what color my eyes are and you said "Shiny". Anyway, I want to date an entire troupe of Chippendales. But you know what? I still want to be dead to you. We can totally forget the other is alive . We had some good times, or so you told me . But please, don't despair like last time. That means no botched suicide attempts. And look - I won't even make an issue out of the $37,229 you owe me, or the fact that you auctioned our love child. So take care of yourself - and choke on your own vomit.

Yours In Contempt,

Scary

P.S. It’s barely 4 inches - much less six.
 

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