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Story No. 32175
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I received a disturbing letter that read as follows:
"Dear occupant,
I love you. Marry me or I will kill myself.
Yours sincerely,
George Michael xxxxxx
Now what the heck was he doing writing to me? and why all the kisses? last time I saw him he
was a week away from his sexual reassignment surgery. I congratulated him and promised we'd catch up that weekend. We never did, and now I feel
like a complete fool. I am going to stay in my bedroom for at least a week before I dare to show my
teenage daughter the films I made when I was younger. It serves as a valuable lesson. That lesson is:
Never eat yellow snow.
