Writer. Warning: opinions. My lawyer advised a disclaimer, but didn't include any jokes to go with. Damned if I can think of any either.

Dear Bread Letter

Oh Bread, you are so delicious. I love you as biscuits, as bagels, and even as cake. I love you in all the ways that it is possible to love a thing, but I need a break. I think you can understand the subtext here: Get out.

Haha, OK that was mean. Just kidding, we can still see each other casually, like on weekends and stuff, but I can’t be mowing down a buttery-ass bagel every morning anymore. I’m sure you understand. We had a lot of awesome fat guy times!

Photo: rpata
Remember how my roommates and I used to eat loaf after loaf of you at the Italian place on Sundays? I’ll never forget how full you made me feel, but I also can’t forget how my fat body ended up making my clothes feel full as well.

Say hello to Cigarettes and Cheeseburgers and the whole fat gang down at the restaurants and the bakeries and what-not. I’ll stop in on a limited basis to check on you guys. Well, except for Cigarettes, of course. They’re gross.

You know as well as I do that there are plenty of people still totally on board with your whole program, so it’s not like you’ll even miss one less fat man gobbling you down with smacking noises. Hope we’re still cool.

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