707Fangirl

Dear, Myles Bennett Dyson, I wrote you but you still ain't callin’ WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO WRONG!? I left my names and addresses, and the most intimate details about my life at the bottom I sent 12,278 letters back on January 19th, 2000-and-three, you must not-a got 'em There fucking probably was a fucking problem at the fucking post office or fucking something Sometimes I scribble names and addresses too sloppy when I jot 'em, but anyways, bull-fuck it, what's up, guys? How’s Ken Waller? My fat old lady’s pregnant too, I'm bout to be a cop, you idiot! If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her? I'ma name her Katherine Fuckin’ Brewster I read about your cocainum too, I'm sorry I had the drug dealer of the house ram his fist into his stomach and break his goddamn spine! over some drug suppliers and distributers who didn't want him I know you probably hear this every two hours and fifty-three minutes, but some men just tried to kill me! I even got the phased-plasma rifle in the 40-watt range that you bought with Jamie I got one room full of your names and addresses, you son of a bitch I like the bullshit you did with Douglas Quaid 618 too, that shit was pump Anyways, I hope you leave enough room for my fist, I’ll be back, it’s as satisfying to me as, uh, cuming is, truly yours, your biggest fan This is John Connor Dear, fat old fuck-head, are you going to help me now or not? I hope you have a chance For the first time in my life I ain't PISSED OFF! - I just think it's FUCKED UP you don't answer fans If you didn't want to know the most intimate details about my life outside’a 232 Alton Drive, you didn't have to, but you coulda signed a Kasenshlogga for Thomas Aquinas That's my twin brother, man, he rowed halfway across the world – no, wrong, he just rowed a day – but believe me, he’d been looking forward to that moment his whole life We waited in the blistering cold. For. You! 200 hours and you just said, "When my father died. Because my mother called me on the phone, and she said, 'Your dad died.' She says, ‘You come home to the funeral?’ I said, ‘No. It’s too late, he's dead, there's nothing to be done. And I’m sorry, l can't come.’ And l didn't explain to her really the reasons why. l had other excuses to her, because how do you explain a mother... whose husband died, you know, your trip? l didn't bother with it. And that actually caused one of the greatest conflicts ... with my girlfriend. Because she just looked at me and said: ‘It doesn't bother you? I mean, your father died.’ l never talk about it again. WHATA WE GOTTA DO?”

Love Sarah