So, nice to talk to you again. I've missed you. Why don't you call? Or write? Or text? I do have unlimited texts ya know. I mean, back in the day when it cost money to make a phone call outside of your city I understood that you were just cheap, but now? Now I just think you don't really like me very much. But that's ok, because I don't like you very much either. I mean, I have a life you know. Why right now I'm sitting in my easy chair typing out a message on some bloggy thingy. I mean, I'm a busy man. I don't have time to say, put a stamp on a letter that's been written for over ten years. But even if I did, there's no way (no freaking way) that I could muster up the time to walk it out to my mail box. But even if I did have time, there's no way I have the energy to walk 50 feet and risk getting hit by a drunk Harley rider returning from the local steakhouse. I mean, are you really so selfish that you want my kids to go childless? How dare you! I am not sure how you sleep at night. Tell you what, let's just let our relationship atrophy into a dried husk of a once plump and juicy friendship. Just like that snake-skin we found outside by the wood pile.
[The preceding was a public service announcement meant to nobody and everybody about nothing (not everything) regarding nothing (not everything). It wasn't meant with malice aforethought unless I change my mind and then it was. Oh, and in case you're really really dense this is just a funny blog post in my twisted and corrupt mind. But if you're that dense, you probably aren't reading this anyway which means I'm killing precious bits and bytes. I'm gonna stop now]
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