Here's the famous 'Best Divorce Letter' par Dan to Connie, pretty hilarious, definitely a must read! xD
Dear Connie,
I know the counselor a dit we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore.
The jour toi left, I swore I'd never talk to toi again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first on to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always toi who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride’s cost me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first déplacer as long as one of us does. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt.
This is what my cœur, coeur says "There's no one like you, Connie. I look for toi in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close."
Two weeks il y a I met this girl at Flamingoes and brought her accueil with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19 with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. F***ing like toi wouldn't believe and cul, ass that just wouldn't quite. Every man's dream, right?
As I sat on the canapé being blown par this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but toi see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better cœur, coeur than my modestly attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little.
Later, after I'd tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique ou her suttee shameless hunger; but something also, some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because toi weren't there to watch. Do toi know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do toi remember Carol that singe mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped par last week with a pan of lasagna. She a dit she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later; but that's no the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the suivant thing toi know we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, toi know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight ou her career and whether the kids can here us. And all of the sudden, she sports that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves and it's totally hot, but it makes e sad too because I can't help thinking "Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years and we never used it as a sex toy."
Saturday your sister drops par with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vickie’s just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She's donné me lots of good conseil about toi and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bath and taking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as toi and all I can do is think of how much she looks like toi when toi were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole oral thing, and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured toi about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do toi see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring all I can do is think of you? It's true Connie. In your cœur, coeur toi must know it. Don't toi think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If toi feel the same please please please, let me know.
Otherwise, can toi let me know where the f***ing remote is?
l’amour Dan
link the link to the actual letter.
Dear Connie,
I know the counselor a dit we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore.
The jour toi left, I swore I'd never talk to toi again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first on to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always toi who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride’s cost me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first déplacer as long as one of us does. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt.
This is what my cœur, coeur says "There's no one like you, Connie. I look for toi in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close."
Two weeks il y a I met this girl at Flamingoes and brought her accueil with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19 with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. F***ing like toi wouldn't believe and cul, ass that just wouldn't quite. Every man's dream, right?
As I sat on the canapé being blown par this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but toi see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better cœur, coeur than my modestly attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little.
Later, after I'd tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique ou her suttee shameless hunger; but something also, some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because toi weren't there to watch. Do toi know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do toi remember Carol that singe mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped par last week with a pan of lasagna. She a dit she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later; but that's no the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the suivant thing toi know we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, toi know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight ou her career and whether the kids can here us. And all of the sudden, she sports that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves and it's totally hot, but it makes e sad too because I can't help thinking "Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years and we never used it as a sex toy."
Saturday your sister drops par with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vickie’s just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She's donné me lots of good conseil about toi and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bath and taking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as toi and all I can do is think of how much she looks like toi when toi were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole oral thing, and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured toi about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do toi see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring all I can do is think of you? It's true Connie. In your cœur, coeur toi must know it. Don't toi think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If toi feel the same please please please, let me know.
Otherwise, can toi let me know where the f***ing remote is?
l’amour Dan
link the link to the actual letter.
I wondered if toi could hear my cœur, coeur in your sleep,
Recognize the smell of my skin in your dreams,
Touch my lips when toi wake up,
And whisper in my ears while I sleep.
I pondered all that as toi fell asleep to my heartbeat,
Breathing softly on my chest with one of your hands still feeling me.
And when I wake up it was your lips,
ou maybe it's all just a dream.
But when I declared "I l’amour you",
I could feel your lips at my ear,
Whispering the sweet melody,
Of everything I ever wanted to hear.
Recognize the smell of my skin in your dreams,
Touch my lips when toi wake up,
And whisper in my ears while I sleep.
I pondered all that as toi fell asleep to my heartbeat,
Breathing softly on my chest with one of your hands still feeling me.
And when I wake up it was your lips,
ou maybe it's all just a dream.
But when I declared "I l’amour you",
I could feel your lips at my ear,
Whispering the sweet melody,
Of everything I ever wanted to hear.
So my uncle told me this joke and I HAD to post it:
So two blondes walk into a bar and sit at the counter. They order drinks, high five, and yell "Three months!" They finish their drinks and repeat.
The bartender is curious and asks, "What does 'three months' mean?"
One blonde explains. "You see, we bought a puzzle and it a dit on the front '3-6 years', but we finished it in three months!"
Got to be the dumbest blondes on earth!
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala.
So two blondes walk into a bar and sit at the counter. They order drinks, high five, and yell "Three months!" They finish their drinks and repeat.
The bartender is curious and asks, "What does 'three months' mean?"
One blonde explains. "You see, we bought a puzzle and it a dit on the front '3-6 years', but we finished it in three months!"
Got to be the dumbest blondes on earth!
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala.
(hello people i am plus happy now ok so i did another poem and it was actualy happy this time)
