Oh Dear: Heartbreaking I, Anonymous
Just in time for Xmas, here’s a heartcrushing I, Anonymous.
Along with its heartcrushing properties, this I, Anon is packed with the sort of details that make clear that we could never make this shit up.
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Just in time for Xmas, here’s a heartcrushing I, Anonymous.
Along with its heartcrushing properties, this I, Anon is packed with the sort of details that make clear that we could never make this shit up.
Finding the soundtrack to Rent in someone's car probably means they're gay. If it's in addition to all the other details mentioned, it confirms it.
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If the I, Anonymous writer is so desperate for the weird relative/friend to come out as gay, what's the problem with just going to that person privately and raising the question?
I mean, instead of writing anonymously to a newspaper column the other person will likely never see.
And what is with the "I would have thought you were a yuppie if it weren't for the Rent soundtrack I found in your car" business? Since when did snooping through someone's personal belongings and finding a single soundtrack of a just-filmed Broadway musical become the proof of all proofs that the CD (and car) owner is unquestionably gay?