My Dearest Miranda,

* make us famous

It’s been a great run, hasn’t it? But I’m afraid the time has come to say goodbye.

I’ll miss you; be assured I’ll always miss you. Your shiny blonde hair, your smooth, flawless skin, your conveniently-placed holes. I’ll miss the distant stare in your eyes and that adorable, open-mouthed expression of surprise that is your trademark. I’ll miss your flexibility, your patience with my idiosyncrasies, and the economy of your conversation. Your demure, retiring nature that belies your utter depravity in the sack. You’re as close to an ideal woman as they make them, dearest.

I’ll be honest with you. This has been a long time coming. For some time I’ve felt the need to streamline my life, including my relationships, and it’s come down to the fact that ours has gotten just too complicated. I wish I could rent us a larger apartment; I wish, well, I wish you didn’t take up so much room to store. It’s nothing personal, darling, it’s just that you’re- let’s be honest,
you’re a bit high-maintenance. What with the hair-washing, the wiping you down with a moist cloth, restoring your seemingly endless wardrobe of soiled lingerie,
and removing the inevitable
crusts oflife that are bound to accumulate, you tend to take up a lot of my time. Time that I really could be using to find myself, to expand my interests. There’s so much more out there, especially on the internet. I can’t be tied to just one woman any more. I can’t tie up just one woman any more. (And as long as we’re being honest here, your struggling skills lack a certain vivacity). I need...variety. I know, I could have your hair re-rooted and your eye color changed, but underneath it would still be the same old routine.

We’ve grown apart. I have to move on. And I’ll admit, I’ve had my eyes on someone new. Someone who is infinitely variable, yet reliable. Someone who fits my new, streamlined lifestyle. Someone who fits more easily in a drawer. My new lady, Fleshlight.