Dear Boris and Natasha K:

At precisely this time last year, Dr. McC was busy removing you from my pituitary. You made me fat, you destroyed my body, you made me stop working and running and doing all the other things I loved to do for several years. But I killed you. And I am going to keep getting better while are going to remain in a little specimen jar at the back of a closet. So technically, I win.

I am feeling a little sentimental today, and so of course I couldn’t help but think of our song:

Love, Me

P.s. You left some of your loser friends in me. Tell them they are next.




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