Dere Penny,
You hab proved yet again that hell hav no fury like a woman scorned. There iz nothing on this planet to git enny romantical overtures from me to you. I hate to say it, but I am sorry for you and yore apoplectic hubby to be. It iz a shame to see you parade around heir wif the maks ob smugnes and convolution on yore beaklike and toofless face all the while pining away fore the one who hab rejected all yore overchores.
Someday you will larn to forget me and cast yore scrawny body into a herd of swine and fall off a cliff or other high place sumwhars.

Yerz,
Tweed