Breakin' up is hard to do.

[chibirhm]

REJECTION LETTERS TO PEOPLE WHO SPAM MY INBOX

Dear Christian Coalition of America,

How the fuck did you even get my e-mail? Seriously? I'm Jewish. Here, let me break this down for you. You: Jesus. Me: No Jesus. You: Multiple testaments. Me: Keeping it old-school. Also, I eat babies and control the media you don't, but for obvious PR reasons my people like to keep that on the down-low.

In conclusion, stop mailing me.

Love, Me


Dear MoveOn.Org,

In theory, things should work between us. You're a bunch of socialist hippies, I'm a socialist hippie, we have a lot in common. But I think of you like my socially awkward cousin that I may be ideologically related to, but totally don't want to admit that we're related in public. I know I gave you my e-mail, but that was only to get that awesomesauce Obama sticker you were offering for free if I did so. I have un-subscribed from your mailing list about ten times. STOP CALLING ME.

Love, Me


Dear President Obama,

I promise I'm voting Democratic this election season. Seriously. I still love you. You're still beautiful just the way you are. You're just getting a little desperate.

Love, Me.


Dear USY,

Why do you still e-mail me? I went to one of your events six years ago because my mom made me. I hated it then, and I still don't want to go to your events now. Especially since I am about four years too old to do so. And I certainly don't want to donate anything to Israel. Do you want to hear my thoughts on Israel? Will that get me kicked out of you enough for you to STOP E-MAILING ME? Because I'll do it.

Love, Me.

---

THE WEEKLY COLIN AND BRADLEY SHOW!

omgwtf ARE THESE BOYS EVEN REAL. AND WHO IS WRITING THESE SEGMENTS, ME?!?!? LET US RECAP WHAT WENT ON HERE. I MAY HAVE EMBELLISHED SLIGHTLY DUE TO MY HAZE OF DELIRIOUS JOY. BUT PLEASE DON'T RUIN MY ILLUSION, I SWEAR IT'S NOT THAT FAR OFF FROM THE TRUTH.

[Cut in: COLIN beaming at BRADLEY with his besotted dimples]

Colin: Ehm, I've been given orders to blindfold you. And then you're supposed to guess the object I put in you hand.
Bradley: Oh, like the game we played last night, only the object was your...
Colin: EHM YES RIGHT EYES COVERED YOU GO THEN.
[COLIN puts a mandrake root in BRADLEY's hand]
Bradley: This feels like a way kinkier version of what you put in my hand last night.
[COLIN sighs, but smiles, entire face crinkling up in exceedingly poorly hidden adoration]

Colin: Bradley, if you were a kyeck, what kind of kyeck would you be?
Bradley: If I were a what?
Colin: A kyeck, Bradley.
Bradley: What?
[COLIN gestures to plate full of sweets]
Bradley: Oh, Cols.
Colin: There's nothing wrong with the way I say kyeck!
Bradley: Of course not.
Colin: Answer the stupid question, Bradley.
Bradley: Well, I guess I'm a doughnut. I'm round. And I have a hole in the middle. Where my heart should be.
Colin: That sounds like a serious medical condition.
Bradley: I was trying to say it's because I gave it to you.
Colin: Aw, Bradley...
[They kiss rather passionately, and the camera swings upward to avoid watching.]
Colin: [Off-screen] I dunno, Bradley, there's another hole of yours I like much better...
Director: CUT!

Colin: [rumpled, slightly breathless] Alright, so if you were a fruit, what type of fruit would you be?
Bradley: Didn't we just establish that we're both massive fruits?
Colin: The kind you eat, idiot.
Bradley: Why are you calling me an idiot when some prop person put a carrot and lettuce on the fruit platter?
Colin: Good point.
Bradley: How about... a pineapple.
Colin: I'd be a dragonfruit. Because I work with a dragon.
Bradley: Cols, you know it's not a real dragon.
[COLIN pouts, which makes BRADLEY burst into laughter. Eventually both of them dissolve into gigglefits.]

[BLOOPERS REEL runs, in which COLIN kneels before BRADLEY'S crotch in a suggestive manner, and then they both pretend to be shocked by their positioning. No explanation is required.]

Colin: I think they might be catching on to us.
Bradley: No way. We're like the subtlest couple alive.