Dear Cupid ~

Dear Cupid, We need to talk. First off the arrow HURTS! The hole in my butt cheek has not healed. I can not afford medical care so would you please stop shooting me in the ass. Secondly, and secondly means this: The first part is NOTHING compared to what you have done to my HEART! Cupid, I am a peaceful person. I believe in a gentle approach to things. HOWEVER, I was perfectly happy before you came along. I had things figured out. A life plan, goals, purpose, a really clear direction. Now I am constantly losing things, like my keys, the sun, and the moon. I forget things (do not comment here), like eating and breathing. I wasn't trying to lose weight and now I have been stricken with a syndrome called Noassatall. Now let's talk about the sleepless nights. The dreams. The dreams are heart wrenching and frequently arousing. You're a pervert. My sleep is sacred! Benedryl has become my new best friend (yes, that's your replacement you little fucker). LOVE TOURETTES, REALLY? I can't drink alcohol in public places anymore because every time I open my mouth I talk about all the love in my heart. Why did you fuck with the booze Cupid? The current list of incidents are longer than the arrow you shot me with you little shit. Public Humiliation? Check! In addition to the listed and hinted at grievances I have also had a nasty bout of vertigo. My world is literally sideways. Very few things upset me Cupid. You are right up there with people who put gum under chairs and tables (WHO DOES THAT?). You fucked with my happy place. We are no longer friends. If you touch me again I will cut you. Yours untruly, unxunounxuno P.S. I am SO telling Santa how naughty you are so don't even think of trying to get in at the Elf factory.