Out with the Old

Dear Bode,

It is with great disappointment that I write to you today, as I must bring an end to our otherwise fantastic relationship. You have brought us much shame with your exploits in Torino. You promised our late-night phone sex wouldn't affect your performance, but it did. And who exactly were you looking at when you missed that pole the next day? I mean, I'm all the way over here in Kansas. What else could possibly distract you??

You know that I had great plans for us. With your gold medals and all the endorsement deals, I was going to get you a new razor, and maybe even some botox injections for me. But nooooo. I was even planning on coming to Turino to sneak into your trailer in the Olympic Village for a little medal presentation of my own. But noooo. And now that all of America thinks you're a big loser, I'm NEVER going to get to meet Matt Lauer. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive you for that.

Instead, I'm moving on. I've found someone else. He's cuter, a better skier, and I'm pretty sure he won't embarass me in front of the entire world. In fact, after reviewing his unbelievably hot pictures credentials, I have no idea why I let you into my life in the first place. I mean seriously, no plumbing?

Sorry it had to end like this. If you want to, we can talk again in four more years.

Dave