Let me teach you this

We had an unusual start-- I was your teacher. I was a grad assistant who thought she knew everything and you were a reformed slacker. We hit it off. You told me that getting to perform on stage was one of the greatest moments in your life. I remember you bringing me flowers for my one-woman show. Who knew we would become such good friends.

That was then.

Let me go back to our previous roles of teacher-student to let you know that you don't treat people this way. Don't be a dick. If this is the way you treat your best friends, according to you, then you are fucked. Shame on you. F for friendship. Sub-par work on every level. You need to re-enroll because you won't be getting credit. Be certain that when you call me on my birthday, a year since we last talked, I won't be picking up. You won't notice, because you're too stupid to. And better yet, if your girlfriend gets sick of your tiresome ways and you start to call again in earnest, I won't be picking up. When did you get so sleazy?

Ick.

Good luck in the future. Your sorry ass is going to need it.