< Love Biatch: An open letter < Love Biatch >

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

An open letter

Dear J,

You don't know me, but I certainly know you. Why you ask? Because I have spent hours counseling my lovely friend Delia to help her get over you. Because Delia will never tell you, I thought I should...you suck. And not just a little...you suck in a profound, I'd rather get a paper cut on my tongue than have to hear one more word about you hurting my friend's feelings kind of way.

"But I've done nothing wrong," you think. Au Contraire Jerkoff...you have innumerable sins of the most insidious variety. You are never so cruel that she officially kicks your lame ass to the curb, but you are just horrid enough that you cause nights of tears and self doubt. And quite frankly, J, you are a waste of my time. Maybe you've got Delia fooled, but not me. I know you're kind. You're a user and worse yet, you are simply not a nice person.

Some of the many reasons I loathe you:
  1. You use guilt to get what you want. Only losers have to guilt someone into sex.
  2. Ever hear the phrase "no use crying over spilled milk?" You freaked out over spilled water. Literally a glass of spilled water . Granted it was spilled on your computer, but still no excuse. Delia's feelings are worth more than any object, but clearly you don't have any regard for them.
  3. You have no manners. You IM her and then just disappear mid conversation. Didn't your momma train you right?
  4. You take advantage of her kindness. Delia is one of the sweetest people I know. Instead of treating her with the same kind of warmth, you have seized on her good nature at every opportunity. What kind of guy lets a girl help him move and then treats her like garbage? A pretty crappy one if you ask me.

Here's some news for you, J, I hear you aren't even good in bed. So not only are you a bad guy, but you can't even offer good sex. I mock you and so will all the ladies I tell!

J, do yourself and me a favor, disappear from Delia's life. She is a lovely, smart, kind girl, and she is too good for you. You demand too much and offer far too little. She deserves better, and I won't rest until I make sure she gets it. I have better things to think about than you (should I get a pedicure? How can something as good as an almond joy be so bad for me? Is it 6 yet?)

So piss of J...Delia and I are moving on...

Love,

Biatch

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home