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My Friend,
In the time since the 2008 election ended, when you were relegated back from presidential hopeful to marginalized state senator, I have received a number of emails from you. I like keeping in touch with my friends, of course, and I know that you are one of mine, as you begin each of those mails with "My Friend." But I must admit, I'm starting to think that you may be merely using me for your own personal ends, and ultimately care nothing about our friendship. |
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To be honest, Senator, I can't remember when we first became friends. Maybe that should have been a warning sign, a harbinger of doom that this relationship was bound to end in tears, but if so I was blind to it. I blame your charms; you were so seductive, so inviting, like a grandfather with a piece of Werther's Original in his coat pocket. Of course we were friends, how could it be otherwise?
I was overjoyed the day your first email came. I had been worried about you; you seemed sullen since losing the presidency to Barack Obama, and who wouldn't be? Nights I lay awake wondering if there were any way I might salve your pangs. My fears were unwarranted! You had already set in motion the creation of "Country First," a grassroots organization dedicated to the supremacy of Willie Nelson songs. Good for you! I sent you a reply, telling you that I was proud of you for not letting the setback in November get you down.
I didn't hear from you again until a month later, when you informed me that you would be seeking re-election as a Senator. Again, I was pleased with your news, and sent you a reply wishing you the best of luck. I also asked if there was anything I could do to help, and how your Kenny Chesney fanclub was coming along.
After your third mail, I began to notice a pattern. It seemed to me that you weren't even reading my replies. One after another, your missives came to my inbox, always detailing your present concerns: had I seen Obama's 2009 State of the Union address, could I make calls for Scott Brown's re-election in Massachusetts, could I sign this petition to keep Democrats from raising the debt ceiling, had I seen Obama's 2010 State of the Union address... oh, and would I please donate something to your campaign?
In all that time, never once did you mention any of my concerns. You didn't even pretend that you read my mails at all! I even sent you an invite to join my World of Warcraft guild, and didn't get so much as a 'no thanks'. Frankly, it seems to me that all you really care about is yourself, and that is not a friendship. That's egomania.
I'm sorry, John, but I'm going to have to break this off.
I know, I know -- you need my help. That's just it; you always need my help. You're an emotional leech, dude! Not an email goes by where you don't ask me for something or other, and what do I get out of it? The privilege of telling people I'm friends with John McCain? That might be cool if you were president. Oh yeah, I went there.
You could say I'm a little pissed. I think I have a right to be; I gave you years of my friendship, and it turns out that all you want to do is use me. I'll bet you've got dozens of email friends like me! Heck, maybe hundreds!
Sorry, Johnny, but you and I just can't be friends anymore.
Sincerely,
TheChisa |
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