Dear Sketchy Guys (All of You),
This is just to inform you that WE.ARE.DUNZO.For real. I know that I have been inexplicably attracted to a wide variety of you for a long time now, but surriously, this has got to stop. Why do complete and utter assholes make me so hot?! What is it about the inability to committ, total absence of life goals, crippling dependency on narcotics, or any other host of issues that make my brain go, "JACKPOT!" ?! The world may never know. I know I'm all sorts of fucked up -- my brain is like Freud's wet dream -- but you guys are really not helping. Sure, it's fun to have wacky stories to tell...but I think I'd rather not have to wake up feeling used, or worse, fearing for my safety after spending a spectacularly sketchy night with one of you. So that's it. Please cease and desist all contact, and if you know how to turn off whatever honing signal has got me seeking you out like an animal on the prowl, you can go ahead and do that. Thanks.
Go Sketch in MARYLAND -- I'm Through With You,