Monday, October 13, 2008

"A Down-Under Break-Up"

Dear Sir Hops-a-Lot,

It pains me to say this, but I think our relationship should come to an end. We’re just too different. I like the White Sox; you like the Cubs. I enjoy Megadeth; you prefer Metallica. I am a human; you are a six foot-tall Australian Red Kangaroo. Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s nothing you did. You were great, you really were. All the hopping and bouncing was a joy to watch. You are a very speedy kangaroo. And thank you so much for allowing me to store my makeup and hair accessories in your pouch. That was a real life-saver at the pool. We had some real fun together, like when you took me to Australia to graze on your favorite patch of grass, or when you invented that international dance craze, the Ranga-Koo. The main reason I wish to end what we had is your hobby. I do not like it when you go out late at night to the bowling alley parking lot to beat up Costa Rican midgets for money.



Dear Linda,

I do not care. I do not care. I am a kangaroo. I am a large kangaroo. You are a human. I could beat you up. I could beat you up real easy. But I won’t do that. I will not do that. Because Sir Hops-a-Lot is a gentleman. I do not beat up women. I do not beat women. Unless they are also Costa Rican midgets. But other than that I do not beat women. I’m glad you liked my dance craze. I achieved international fame and fortune. Last November I slept with your sister. What? I didn’t say nothing.

Keep hoppin’,

Sir Hops-a-Lot

P.S. I am a male kangaroo so I do not have a pouch. You put your makeup and hair accessories into my butt crack. At the time I found that disgusting. Now it is very humorous to me.

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