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The Loathe Letters

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Dear guy who I was slightly obsessed with last year. You would roll into town from Kenya and somehow impress me with your company expense account, and inflated regard for your own wit. When we first met the chemistry was so wild and the sexual tension was so sweet and thick like great chocolate cake. Then we finally had sex and it was … sigh …. calling it mediocre is generous.

Dear Ex who missed-called me at 4 30am last Saturday night. Yes, I will admit it; the cunnilingus was fantastic. You should travel the world giving classes to men all over the world. Oprah should be your business manager and Dj Khaled should be your hype-man. Women would line up to be your magician’s assistant. I, however, will not be returning your call, because while you eat good pussy, your personality is frighteningly so mediocre. Oh and the rest of the sex wasn’t that great either.

Dear Whiteboy who recently re-friended me on Facebook. What did you not understand when I unfriended you the last 2 times? When we dated briefly in uni I picked you up and dropped you like a kitten would a frog. I would ignore your phone calls for months until you finally gave up and then show up again a year later, flirting and teasing like I had never been gone. Instead of telling me to fuck off you would let me toy with you again. I don’t think it was because you really liked me, you liked the idea of me; exotic African girl, all ripples of laughter and ripples of flesh when you fucked me from behind. I am sorry I played with you; I was immature… and you had a nice dick, but your Venus Hottentot fantasy was frankly pathetic.

Dear Brother. I said it when I was 15, I said it when I was 19 and I will say it again. You are not allowed to fuck with my friends. You fly into Kampala, and all of a sudden all my friends are behaving like airheads, flirting and blushing as if they don’t know how many of my friends you de-virginized once upon a time. Then you fly out of the country and I am left answering questions like “why isn’t he replying to my email?”and “do you think your bro will like it if I send him this nude pic?” So I’ll say it one more time. Stop fucking with my friends!

Dear Dad, you are a great father. Carry on.

Dear all men, everywhere. In the immortal words of Shakespeare “learn to fuck better”(I may have paraphrased a bit).

With all the love,

The Hitchhiker

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