An Open Letter to Rosetta Seely, her Identical Twins and Fellow MSN Spammers

December 10, 2008

This was inspired by a few ladies (eg, http://www.bebo.com/BaileyU5 http://www.bebo.com/SuzetteZ38 and http://www.bebo.com/AmericaB93 among others) who felt the need to contact me. I post this in a hope to help others who are reeling due to the conflict of heart and brain.

Dear Rosetta and friends,

I’m sorry, but it won’t work. It can’t work. I know you and your identical sisters with different surnames want me, hell, I want me, but it just couldn’t work.

Your all the way from BBK, which according to a quick Googling, has something to do with financial products in Bahrain. I just can’t have a relationship with 7 different women who all live at their workplace. I mean, I have needs, I have feelings, I can’t be with women that are obviously so tied and engrossed in their occupations. I’ve been there. And it hurts,

I know, MSN Messenger seems like the next logical progression in our relationship, but really, where would that take us? As a group of football-loving individuals? Sure, the 8 of us could talk about our mutual love of action films and porn through the night, but can we really base a relationship on that? How long before you begin to resent me for having 7 lovers with only 3 different faces? ROck music, which I can only assume is a seriously hardcore version of rock music, will only help you bottle in your feelings for so long. You’ll need to release that anger, I don’t want to be the lightning rod to your bright sparks of fury.

And perhaps you live a warm climate, but I got friends here, family. Sure, I love ‘Getting naked in the outdoors’ as much as the next dude, but its just not feasible here on a regular basis to be included among my interests.
Plus, the one thing vast quantities of television has through is that long distance relationships never work.

No, I think we should end this now. Before we all end up hurt and broken. Its said that time heals all wounds, maybe a little bit of time is all we need.

Yours Sincerely,
Paul Kennedy.

P.S. Fuck Off