To Whom It May Concern

First off, let me greet you (YES, NO ONE ELSE BUT YOU), a pleasant evening. I know you’re not expecting anything like this, especially at this ungodly hour, but brace yourself for fan mails from now on. This surely is part of the fun of your chosen profession.

Of course it was a relief that after weeks of waiting, you’ve finally arrived. Then again, my instincts knew better and told me that you would bring nothing but catastrophe—that you’re the psychic twin of someone I’ve used to ridicule with all my heart.

You share the same pretty face (albeit you look sweet with your pimpled face whereas she seems snooty with her unblemished skin), almost the same height, the same hair length, the same attitude problem, and lastly, the same penchant for using a language the world knows you’re not well-acquainted with. And let me tell you, you’ve got a peculiar accent which I’m starting to love (if I could just help being so ironic). At least you know how to dress well, the class would be better off with the only one undisputed fashion icon; I don’t need another one to roll my eyes on.

I won’t make this pointless letter any longer (or any more pointless), for words alone can never express how much I feel for you. Damn you. Damn that subject Basic Economics with Eternal Damnation and Agaricus Mushrooms as well. Life would have been better for all of us had you not declined the offer of that world-renowned company you brag about.

P.S. You liked to say there’s no free lunch (as a proof that you’re a budding economist). Well I say, there’s no free publicity in my blog, too. You’ll pay for this in God’s time. In God’s time, dearie.