By staff writer Nathan DeGraaf
November 1, 2006
Jamie: You’ve seriously broken up with girls because they owned cats?
Nathan: What can I say? I’m allergic.
Jamie: You’re heartless.
I want you to know that you’re a great girl. And the three weeks we spent together were great. I love the way you fuck (few girls move like you) and I couldn’t get enough of your beautiful smile and transcendent blue eyes. I love how you always brought me dinner from your parents’ restaurant. Hell, I even love those cheesy jokes you always tell. And I’m sorry I dumped you, but well, your snoring was driving me fucking insane.
I know that when I dumped you I gave you some stupid spiel about how I was emotionally unstable and I was afraid that if you fell for me, I would drag you into a life of self-destruction, ultimately ending in your hating yourself and me. But that was, as you suggested, a load of bullshit. For that, I apologize.
You see, the only problem I ever had with you was that insanely loud snoring. I mean, my fucking God! The first time I heard you snore, I honestly mistook it for some weird rapid fire thunder. I literally ran to the window to look for lightning. Perhaps you should call the folks at Ripley’s Believe It or Not or even The Guinness Book of World Records. I mean, I think you could probably set the record for loudest snorer ever. Your snoring is that fucking bad.
I asked one of my fuck buddies, Janelle, how I should handle this situation. She made all kinds of useless suggestions like getting you to wear those little strips that go over the nose or perhaps buying a pair of earplugs for me. I explained to her that there was no way those ideas would work. To prove it to her, I recorded your snoring one night and played it for her a few days later. She was just as shocked as I was. I mean seriously, do you hide a part of the Grand Canyon in your nose or what? I swear there’s an echo in there.
At any rate, I took the coward’s way out. I should have told you that your snoring was keeping me up at night, making me irritable, and just generally bothering the ever-loving shit out of me, but hell, I just didn’t feel like having discussions about this. Life is too short and we’re too young to compromise.
Camille, please keep in mind that when I sleep, I put my fan on its loudest setting. I also lived next to these meth-tweeking DJs that practice all night. And never has anything shy of a police officer woken me up before or since. Your snoring is that fucking bad.
Seriously, you should probably go to a doctor and get that checked out.
At any rate, I’m sorry I lied to you about my reasons for leaving you. Please understand that I think we could have a beautiful life together if only you could find a way to plug those nostril holes of yours at night.