Re: Bad Note
I had a bad note once. It said:
Dear Jim,
I have put up with your loud music all hours of the night, and coming home late smelling like beer and cigarette smoke long enough. You have yet to find a real job! You are not very affectionate with me anymore. It seems as if the only thing you care about anymore are your damn saxophones. Well, I can't take it anymore. When you come home from your gig, I will be gone and out of your life for good!
PS. I'm taking the cat with me!
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Yahoo!