Dear Husband,
I’m writing you this letter to tell you that I’m leaving you forever. I’ve been a good wife to you for seven years, but I have nothing to show for it. These last two weeks have been hell. Your boss called to tell me that you quit your job today—that was the last straw. Last week, you came home and didn’t even notice I had done my nails and toes, had cooked your favorite meal and even wore a brand new pair of silk panties. You ate in two minutes and went straight to sleep after watching Monday Night Football. You don’t tell me you love me anymore; you don’t want sex or anything that connects us as husband and wife. Either you’re cheating on me or you don’t love me anymore. Whatever the case, I’m gone.
Your EX-Wife
P.S., Darling: Don’t try to find me. Your Brother and I are moving away to West Virginia together! Have a great life!
Dear Ex-Wife,
Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It’s true you and I have been married for seven years, although a good woman is a far cry from what you’ve been. I watch my sports so much because they drown out your constant whining and bitching. Too bad that doesn’t work. I DID notice when you did your nails last week, but the first thing that came to mind was "You look just like Boy George!" Since my mother raised me not to say anything if you can’t say something nice, I didn’t comment. And when you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with MY Brother, because I stopped eating fish seven years ago. About those new silk panties: I turned away from you because the $49.99 price tag was still on them, and I prayed it was a coincidence that my brother had just borrowed $50.00 from me that morning stating it was for his phone bill. After all of this, I still loved you and felt we could work it out. So when I hit the lotto for 10 million dollars, I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Hawaii. But when I got home you were gone. Everything happens for a reason, I guess. I hope you have the fulfilling life you always wanted. My lawyer said that the letter you wrote ensures you won’t get a dime from me. So take care.
Your Ex-Husband, Rich as Hell and Free!
P.S., Sweetie: I don’t know if I ever told you this—my brother Frank was born Francine. I hope that’s not a problem
No comments:
Post a Comment