I don't really know how to tell you this, but I dislike you. I think I realized it when you put cuffs on me in your closet and I saw you carve your initals into my father. I'm sure you're high enough to understand that santa doesn't exist. I'm returning your ring to you, but I'll keep your left ear as a memory. You should also know that I was interviewed by the Times about your embarassing rash.
Go burn,
Lacey

[link]