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See you in about a month. I'm eagerly awaiting that moment when we see each other again.

Would you rather that I wear the Schultz helmet or experiment with 60s type drugs and grow my hair? The second option wouldn't make me happy. It would be like a sex change for me.

I don't want a sex change. I refuse to be a flower child so you can have two real daughters. I've warned you six weeks ago that I will never be the prissy daughter that you've always wanted me to be. Let me keep the helmet and I'll make your life peaceful.

Neener, neener, NEEEEEEEEENERRRRRRRR!

You deserve to be exterminated, you subhuman sack of filth.

If you want to leave, there's the door. Don't let the doorknob hit you on the way out!

Honestly, I'll never understand why anyone so contentious should think for even one moment that depriving the rest of us of your whining, complaining, and general crankiness would somehow punish us for not agreeing with you and laughing at you behind your back!

You spit on me for who I am? Don't blame me when I spit back. I can't control the fact that I'm a "sissy diaper-wearing fa***t" (as you so eloquently word it), but you can control whether or not you're an evil, cancerous, intolerant liar and traitor. I have every right to be so full of hatred and disgust, my misanthropy is justified because your abuse is something I've come to expect. When you should have embraced me, you beat me near to death. When you should have eased my tears, you mocked my suffering. When I offered love, you greeted it with hate. Indeed you raised an evil, hateful, depressed wreck - and you have no one to blame but yourself. Let me know how a communion wafer laced with Zyklon B tastes, subhuman christfag filth.

Stop sending me on these f***ing guilt trips! I already feel bad for what happened yesterday, I don't need another one. JFC!

I don't do drugs, smoke, drink or have unprotected sex. I've also steered myself away from the start of that path, 8 weeks ago. You should be proud of me.

You are one of the most insensitive, selfish and inconsiderate jerks I have ever known. I can't believe you were gone for 26 hours and couldn't even be bothered to send your family a message. Actually, scratch that. I all too easily can. It's just like you to do so.

I guess that's that.

So now we all have pneumonia. The reason that I have the "walking" variety and you're barely able to get out of bed is that you smoke, and I don't.

Let me know the next time you butt-suckers end up in the hospital, breathing oxygen through a tube and getting the s**t drained from you lungs, and I'll come to your room and grill some burgers next to your bed.

Then you'll finally know what it's been like for me to work next to you all of these years.

Burgers smell better than tobacco.

Only one more month, my friend, and we'll see each other again. (That almost rhymes)