OP-ED: Derek, I Know You're Reading This. Call Me Back.

I’m not stupid, Derek. I know you’re an argumentative piece of shit. You think I don’t know you search up “OP-ED” every four minutes into Google just to find someone to yell at for having an opinion? Of course I know, we've lived together for two years. You were the love of my life, and now you’ve gone out and found yourself someone new, huh? Someone who I bet doesn’t drag their fingers over your scalp tenderly the way I did.

Of course I resorted to this. I have everyone at The Daily Pennsylvanian as we speak, and I don't plan to let them go anytime soon.

You’re going to pick up your phone right now. You’re going to dial my number. And we are going to talk. How could you have been so immature to walk out on me the way you did? Yes, I fucked your brother, but you had always said we were in this together. You said, “your problems are our problems.” And somehow, you got offended when I said, “We fucked your brother?”

Grow up and call me. You have 45 minutes. Every ten minutes you go over the time limit, I subject the hostages to another song from Daddy Yankee’s greatest hits. You better hurry; I’m starting with Shakey Shakey. There will be casualties.