I Hate You Tuna!

Okay.

I am tired of tuna.

I have decided I really don't like tuna.

They don't make good friends.

Maybe that's true of me.

But oddly enough I get along with non-tuna.

I'm sick of all tunas' bullshit.

I really am. Beyond words.

You will be right back in the thick of it next week.

You are the one who is friends with all these tunas.

And your boyfriend.

Him too.

Is he a tuna?

I am not going to email for a while, so I can't damage or hurt your tuna feelings anymore.

I feel healthy when I don't communicate with tunas.

Seriously.

Even reading your last email it was just full of the sickness of tuna.

You can't smell it because you still want that fish so much.

I hope you get it.

I hope you get every fucking inch of tuna.

I'm not joking.

I hate tuna.

I hate the way they talk, the way they think, the way they urbanize.

I don't hate them when I don't talk with tuna, read tuna or think about them.

When they've been dead about twenty years they (slowly) start to grow less toxic.

I wish you the best, Tuna Girl, I really do.

But like you said you were doing earlier, I'm stopping all email to or from tuna for a while.

If I blog think of it only as me talking to myself.

I am not blogging for tunas.

I won't link to another tuna.

I don't email tuna.

I don't read their blogs.

So just having all this "tuna talk" in your email made me vaguely queasy.

But I'll get over it.

Be well!

xo b