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Note : I have a double role in this letter. I demand this site pays me double.
Dear Me,
I'm fine. So are you, since I established that in the very first line. I was looking at you , standing in front/back of the mirror, moving my/your hand through my/your hair. I/you suddenly realised that since I/you have been writing letters to big guns(flop ones too) , why not write one to you/me. The concept is really refreshing, breaks the barriers of self-discrimination. Let's admit, none of us will be as hot, intelligent, sarcastic and certainly this funny ten years from now. You/I should secretly revel in that. But as I/you write this letter, a question arises in my/your mind - How do I/you insult you/me? I/You have done it a huge number of times and done it well too,to the utmost displeasure of a few. But it's all for the greater good you see. One gets hurt, two hundred laugh. It's kind of like our country, we screw up one event, the rest give us the honor of the front page. Politics is ugly and expensive. Never knew those kinds mixed well together. But let us not divulge from the main query here, one that could have severe ramifications if truth be told. Of course, I/you can insult you/me. The question now is : will I/you? If I/you do, then the increasing number of people that hate me/you (15 per article according to latest statistics) would have a gala time insulting me/you with our very own insults. No one believes in not copying. So do I/you , publicly proclaim, that I/you am/are afraid of watching horror movies at night because I/you think a monster will come and eat me/you? Of course not. What happens in me/you , stays in me/you. [ Now that's some copying, twitch] That leaves me/you with very few options. We could either shut the front door, say goodnight, have popcorn, watch soap, grab our teddy and sleep or we could continue to speak. I like the thought of the latter but the practicality of the former. But a good thought is always better. So I/you continue. In approximately ten minutes from this letter ending or more( based on the IQ level of the reader) I'll be bombarded with curses.
"Dude , you're the next Physics teachers (Name has been changed, more out of fear than respect)"
Noooooo. *clutches heart* *background music* *action replay* *dishum dash boom doom dishum*
No one never calls me/you that, punk. Understood?
Another dirtbag will follow up :
"I'll take you down to the Math teacher."
Noooooo. *falls down* *begs* *acts like her* => *scares the kid*
No one never do that to me/you, punk. Understood?
Based on their IQ levels, they'll follow up. And more so now, since I/you have said that. Raised a finger on the honor, their pride. Hurt pride is like a woman. I/you don't know why. I/you just felt like saying it. A man should do what a man should want to do.
Adios chicken.
Your's/Mine grudgingly,
Me/You
Note : We are desperately running out of ideas. Tell us who you want us to a write a letter to and we'll try.
Dear Me,
I'm fine. So are you, since I established that in the very first line. I was looking at you , standing in front/back of the mirror, moving my/your hand through my/your hair. I/you suddenly realised that since I/you have been writing letters to big guns(flop ones too) , why not write one to you/me. The concept is really refreshing, breaks the barriers of self-discrimination. Let's admit, none of us will be as hot, intelligent, sarcastic and certainly this funny ten years from now. You/I should secretly revel in that. But as I/you write this letter, a question arises in my/your mind - How do I/you insult you/me? I/You have done it a huge number of times and done it well too,to the utmost displeasure of a few. But it's all for the greater good you see. One gets hurt, two hundred laugh. It's kind of like our country, we screw up one event, the rest give us the honor of the front page. Politics is ugly and expensive. Never knew those kinds mixed well together. But let us not divulge from the main query here, one that could have severe ramifications if truth be told. Of course, I/you can insult you/me. The question now is : will I/you? If I/you do, then the increasing number of people that hate me/you (15 per article according to latest statistics) would have a gala time insulting me/you with our very own insults. No one believes in not copying. So do I/you , publicly proclaim, that I/you am/are afraid of watching horror movies at night because I/you think a monster will come and eat me/you? Of course not. What happens in me/you , stays in me/you. [ Now that's some copying, twitch] That leaves me/you with very few options. We could either shut the front door, say goodnight, have popcorn, watch soap, grab our teddy and sleep or we could continue to speak. I like the thought of the latter but the practicality of the former. But a good thought is always better. So I/you continue. In approximately ten minutes from this letter ending or more( based on the IQ level of the reader) I'll be bombarded with curses.
"Dude , you're the next Physics teachers (Name has been changed, more out of fear than respect)"
Noooooo. *clutches heart* *background music* *action replay* *dishum dash boom doom dishum*
No one never calls me/you that, punk. Understood?
Another dirtbag will follow up :
"I'll take you down to the Math teacher."
Noooooo. *falls down* *begs* *acts like her* => *scares the kid*
No one never do that to me/you, punk. Understood?
Based on their IQ levels, they'll follow up. And more so now, since I/you have said that. Raised a finger on the honor, their pride. Hurt pride is like a woman. I/you don't know why. I/you just felt like saying it. A man should do what a man should want to do.
Adios chicken.
Your's/Mine grudgingly,
Me/You
Note : We are desperately running out of ideas. Tell us who you want us to a write a letter to and we'll try.