Gang, boys, children and friends from all over, listen up. First off, New York City and I want to tell you that we both care for you very very much. This conversation is not because of you. But The City and I been have been having troubles with our relationship for some time now. We've done our best to keep it away from you, but we just can't stay on these terms any more.

It's hard for both of us to say, and we want you to know that it's not your fault. But, we're getting a permanent divorce. There's nothing that you did or didn't do to cause this, it's just the fact that I hate this fucking dirty shitheap city full of whores and greedheads.

Praise the skies that 200 pounds of human flesh won't be breathing these noxious fumes that pass for air. This crappy dump of a city has beat the life out of me, and caused me to prematurely gray and erase almost every liberal belief I've ever had. I've worked five jobs in the past two years: four of them dwindled to nothing or laid me off, while the fifth fired me for not having a "good personality."

The City That Never Sleeps and I made a very civil agreement. She gets to keep her nifty apartments, fancy people, museums, boutiques, public transportation and exotic food. I'm going to leave with a few boxes of my stuff and the small remaining shreds of my sanity.

I promise to visit you, even though you live in this vicious smelly skank of a city with all the culture in the world, yet only some of the class. Or kids, if you'd like, from time to time you can visit me wherever the wind takes me. Most of all, my friends, NYC and I want you to know that we're not doing this because we hate you or don't like you. It's really, honestly, not your fault. It's just the fact that NYC and I hate each other.

New York City pollutionSo my darling friends that have been my surrogate family for the happiest of hours and darkest of days, thanks for all the wonderful memories and fantastic times, whether we'll recall them or not. Rejoice that your subway train rides will be lighter by one person. Praise the skies that 200 pounds of human flesh won't be breathing these noxious fumes that pass for air in this place. Unfortunately, The Five Boroughs will need somebody new to kick around—just hope that it's not you.

Remember my friends, you're the best.

But you, Manhattan and Brooklyn, you're the filthiest of bitches. I hope a bull dyke kicks your fucking teeth down your throat, your molars impact in your butthole, and you can only get a Chinatown witch doctor to suture you up.

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