Dear Biter-girl,
So, what the hell is wrong with my woman? She simply does not know what she has with me. Let me tell you about myself… I am a writer—a PUBLISHED Writer!
My acomplishments are second to none. I have an amazeing intelect and imagination. I can “go places”, DANGEROUS and intense places— in my mind and take others with me in my segas. I Know...pretty cool. I am a Graduate in organizing knowledge. I know things.
Yet my woman doesn’t apreciate what she has! She just stays an arms distance from me. Wouldn’t you just cling to me?? I mean, think of your man—the guy who helps you to post on this webpage and enters your emails for you—you obviously hold onto him, and do whatever he tells you, right? So what the hell is wrong with my woman?? Afterall, I am a PUBLISHED Author. Maybe I should have her come here and read your response—that will set her straight. Tell your boyfriend/husband to compose a smart response, and then keep your picture up there so that she thinks it’s coming from another woman. (You gals can never figure things like that out.)
R. D. (Author, Published)
Dear Dumbass,
I wouldn't cling to you if you were a lifeboat and I was a victim aboard the Titanic.
Couple things, cowboy. First of all, I do not regret to inform you that Bitter Amanda is not going to serve as a billboard for your "novel." Nice try. Secondly, you'll notice I've removed the numerous links to your personal website, as well as your full name. And while usually that kind of crap is to protect privacy, this time...it was because you are a douchebag.
What I haven't taken out are your myriad spelling and grammatical errors. I hope you have a good editor for that Published Work, since you obviously don't utilize the spellcheck function that is standard on any computer.
(Whew. I feel better having gotten that out of my system! You?)
Now, to tackle that question of yours! I do hope I can figure out where all the letters are on this typing contraption! What the hell is wrong with your woman? Let me see...this is a tough one! My my my. Off the top of my head, I'd say that she was going through a mild out-of-body experience when she agreed to go out with you and has not yet found a polite way to get rid of you.
Right now, I want you to do exactly what you decided and let her read my answer:
Alright, lady, listen up. You need to get out and you need to get out now. I don't know you, but you deserve better. I mean, what's waiting for you in this relationship? A dedication in his lackluster sequel? Come on. Get your thesaurus, look up the words in a common break-up speech, find the biggest ones you can, and then deliver the wordiest Dear John letter possible. While he's struggling to figure out what you mean (and trust me, he will be) you get your things and you get out. Now let him back here to read the rest of my letter and start composing!
Alright big guy, I think we got her! *wink*
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
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