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Online Lovers – THAT’S WHAT WE ARE

Dear Murray

So, My boyfriend whom i met online 2 years ago, and I just spent a wonderful long weekend together in Seattle. He is from California. I live in Washington. This is the third time we’ve met in 2 years…NOt alot, but we are just now getting to the point where we have money to travel. We talk to eachother every day online and on the phone, and when we’ve spent time together, its been nothing less than perfect. He agree’s and i agree that we are perfect and fit well together. THe problem is, Coming back from this past weekend, im depressed because i dont want to talk to him online anymore. im tired of the online bit. Id rather have him here in person, but we cant move to be with eachother yet. So, what do we do? do we move on? because it hurts too much being apart? Or do we tough it out and make more plans to see eachother? Help…
-Smitten in Seattle

ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME? This can’t be real. Someone please tell me this shit is not real. It’s real, isn’t it? Someone actually thought this up and wrote this shit out. Instead of fucking bashing their pathetic face in with a copy of Sleepless in Seattle, they wrote this fucking letter.

You’ve hung out THREE times in two years and… BOYFRIEND? He is not your fucking boyfriend! He’s just an occasional internet bang that you’re investing a whole lot of time and energy into. 3. three. THREE FUCKING TIMES!!!!!!!!! I’m assuming that’s weekends, and we’ll round up on the number of days in the weekend. 3. 3×3 = 9. In the last 730 days, you have spent NINE days with this motherfucka and you think he’s your boyfriend? I’ve spent more time than that with motherfucking Thai Elvis, but if he starts getting fresh with me, I’m gonna pop him in his goddamned eyeball.

THREE TIMES THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! This is everything that is wrong with the fucking internet. I read stories like this one all the time on Guy and girl meet online, guy and girl fall in love, guy and girl get engaged jan. 7, 1999, guy and girl meet in person for the first time june 23, 1999. girl dumps guy july 27, 1999, guy decapitates himself with a chainsaw on girl’s lawn…

If any of you ever try pulling shit like that with Murray, I’m fucking outta here. I will destroy the internet from within, with the help of Al Gore, just so none of you can pull creepy shit like this on anyone ever again.

Give up on the “boyfriend” bullshit. Go bang 23 dudes in 21 days. Get this shit out of your system.

 Now leave me the fuck alone.

Categories: General Malaise

Dear Murray

Dear Murray a tasty, tasty bitch beloved and feared by hordes of basement-dwelling illiterati and their fierce antagonists, the Grammar Nazis. He single-handedly turned the webcam whorefest of Myspace into a lively commerce of ideas, including whether or not the TUBGIRL photo will ever be topped as a postmodern expression of the inexpressible. According to web historians, he has inspired more photoshop projects and syphilis jokes than Britney Spears (who he has been repeatedly linked romantically to). He is also rumoured to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, a disciple of Cliff Yablonski, and the second gunman on the grassy knoll. Although he could not be reached for comment, he reportedly resides in or near the tent cities along the LA River Basin, third right after the walrus sunning station.

He has vehemently denied all charges that he is any any way responsible for that rash your wife claims "is from the heat".

His primary function is doling out advice; the inspiration sprang from an endless and eventually dull repetition of fucktards failed to heed his words.

A secondary result is a dysfunctional family "round table" of people who contribute innumerable one-liners and personal experiences, rarely related in any way to the actual question.

It is estimated that tens of thousands of readers have "LOL'd" approximately 5,395,645,694,167,467,105 times, with the toll expected to rise.

He is immune to kryptonite, chlamydia, and brainwashing.

Wikipedia has banned PENCILTITS's entry, debating the relevance of his tasty bitchiness.