Dear Red Hot Chili Peppers,
Please stop stalking me. I ended things between us several years ago because you refused to get out of my head. But you’ve followed me, everywhere. It’s actually a little creepy. Every time I turn on the radio, there you are just trying to get me to remember the good times. Because of you, I’ve flipped from AM to FM, from Satellite to Pandora, but there you are again, encouraging me to give it away, give it away, give it away now.
I have given it away, it’s over. I even stopped listening to the radio, but there you are on my TV. Cameo on the Simpsons? You really know how to strike a chord – not in a good way. I read your name on bumper stickers, and think of you every time I season my pizza, see an ambulance, or cross a crosswalk wearing a sock. I know, seriously, creepy stuff.
You have some great tunes, and I’ve enjoyed your funk, but really that was for one hot minute. What I’m trying to say is it’s not you, it’s me. We once had something, but that spark is long gone (but only because of the stalking, really). Water under the bridge. Please stop following me and for goodness sake get out of my head. As a concession, you can keep your royalties and take the Smashing Pumpkins with you (I’m keeping Point Break).