Dear Johnny

December 30, 2010
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Dear Johnny,

These past few weeks have been a real blast, don’t get me wrong, but I think we should spread our wings from each other. Why, you might ask? Well, for starters, your breath stinks. I mean, it really, really stinks, like a pack of opossums crawled inside your mouth and died and now their rotting carcasses are filling up your oral cavity. Try kissing that on demand. And when you breathe, you wheeze. At first, I ignored it, but now, I can’t stand it! As we sit next to each other in the movie theatres (which you made me pay for my own ticket, how cheap can you get?) and as the heroine swoops in to save the hero, all I can hear is your wheezing! And don’t get me started on your mother. The woman was sent straight from hell, I know it. Every time you and I are together near her (which we always seem to be) she gives me this withering stare, as if I’ll try to have her precious little Boo-Boo be apart of Satanic Rituals. And you wanna know something else? I only dated you because your Dad drove a Titan. I would have rather spent the time we were dating with your father in his Nissan Titan. I despise you so much; I tried to smother you while you took a nap at my house when we watched French Kiss. I would have succeeded too, but your asthma alarm woke you up. And seriously, who even has an asthma alarm? You don’t even have asthma! So you know what? We’re over, done, finished, through, kaput, say Auf Wiedersehen to our relationship! The only regret I have is that I’ll be leaving your dad alone with you and your mother and no one else to love his truck.
And so, I say farewell Johnny, I hope at least someone will find you attractive later on in life and won’t just date you for your father’s truck.







With detestation,








Lucy





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