Dear Mean Green Machine:
My hatred of you grows more and more by the day. I, who have never experienced such hatred in my life, struggle with the feelings I have for you. You break down on a daily basis, run out of gas on hills in the middle of the city, and your brakes momentarily fail on my way down hills (that is when you can actually make it up). I despise you and even if given the opportunity do not believe I would even try to make it work between us. I am looking for dependability and you, unfortunately, can not provide me with that basic request. The end.
NOT yours truly,
Kate Kelley
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