Dear Joe...

Dear Joe,
I don't really know how to tell you this, I'm joining the Convent. I think I realized when i tripped on peanut butter at the mental hospital and I saw you put whipped cream on my illigitimate child in Ghana. I'm sure you're scarred enough to understand that Santa doesn't exist. I'm returning our matching Snoopy underwear to you, but i'll keep your glass eye as a memory. You should also know that I haven't showered in a month and you ruined my attemps at another world war.
Go milk a cow, Margaux.