Dear Ram:

I don't really know how to tell you this, but our romance is over. I think I realized it when your dwarf bit me outside of Chicago and I saw you sit on Manchester United's goalkeeper. I'm sure you're man enough to understand that Santa doesn't exist. I'm returning your old lottery coupons to you, but I'll keep your mom as a memory. You should also know that I never liked the apartment building.

Go burn,
Rica

here, motherlovers.

bookreportbookreportbookreport
bookreportbookreportbookreportbookreport
bookreportbookreportbookreportbookreportbookreport