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My final plea...


Zod

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My Dearest NFL Season,

If the oceans were ink and the sky parchment, I could not begin to write my love for you. I cannot imagine how empty my life will be without you. I imagine it would be a bigger disappointment than my prom night in which an excess of alcohol left my manhood flaccid and useless as a NFL player on twitter. It was like trying to shove a twizzler through a key hole, but thats neither here nor there.

If I don't see you this year, I will be forced to put my Evanescence playlist on endless repeat as I ask why. Why lord, why me, why now? Don't make me do it baby. I want you. I need you. I miss our Sunday afternoons...sitting on the couch, beer in one hand with the other scratching my pubic region. But this year, my pubic region may be left itching, an itch that only you can reach.

This is my final plea. I am emotionally drained. I have no more jiz to spunk.

Hopefully Yours,

Zod

PS. Fug all you guys

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