Dearly befuckin' lov'd
Dear Romance,
I'm pissed and I'm talking to you because if I don't. I'll talk to Ray. And I will weaken my position with respect to his psychosocial status so far as I am involved. And seeing as how I'd like to fuck him into oblivion in the near future... I will re-fucking-frain from expelling my utter discontent in his mother fucking presence.
Oh, what did he do? Romance, why must we quibble. WHY! He did something. Basically, canceled with me for a full day to be with his best friend Taylor.
I know what you're thinking. That's not much, Robert. You're so even tempered, why would that piss you off.
I'm glad you asked that, Romance. Well, my biological fucking clock is tick tick ticking and I'm ticked the fuck off. And my teeth were drilled on for 4.5 hours at the dentist yesterday, so I'm a little on edge.
And yes. I feel marginally better now. But if I read the last thing Ray typed to me on Skype, I'll pop a fucking blood vessel. Which may launch me into a coma. But it's okay, Romance. I'm insured for $2,000,000.00 and it's all going to you.
Not as angry,
Robert.