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This is funny!!!!
A letter written by a heartbroken man to his estranged partner:
Dear Audrey:
I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during
our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you
left, I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded
little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one
to make contact.
In my fantasies, it was always you 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 move as
long as one of us does.
Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And
this is what my heart says... "There's no one like you, Audrey."
I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but
they're not you. They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this
girl at Flamingoes and brought her home 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. Jugs
you wouldn't believe and an ass like a tortoise shell. Every man's dream,right?
But as I sat on the couch being blown by 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 you see what I'm
getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a
better heart than my moderately attractive Audrey? 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 or her**ty, shameless hunger, but something
else.
Some niggling feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And
then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there,
Audrey, to watch.
Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus,
Audrey, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just
reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at Pontins last year?
Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she
figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know
what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few
glasses of wine and the next thing you know we're banging away in
our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack.
She's giving me everything, you know like a real woman does when
she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can
hear us. And all of a sudden she spots 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 me sad
too.
'Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Audrey 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 aid."
Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining
order.
I mean, Vicky'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 given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in
general. She's pulling for us to get back together, Audrey,
She really is. So we're drinking in a hot bath and talking about
happier times.
Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I
can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And
that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole
anal thing and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you
about trying it and how that probably fuelled some of the bitterness between us. But
do you 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, Audrey. In your heart you know it. Don't you
think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start
fresh?
I think we can. If you feel the same please please please
let me know, otherwise, can you let me know where the Sky remote
control is.
Kisses John
A letter written by a heartbroken man to his estranged partner:
Dear Audrey:
I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during
our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you
left, I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded
little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one
to make contact.
In my fantasies, it was always you 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 move as
long as one of us does.
Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And
this is what my heart says... "There's no one like you, Audrey."
I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but
they're not you. They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this
girl at Flamingoes and brought her home 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. Jugs
you wouldn't believe and an ass like a tortoise shell. Every man's dream,right?
But as I sat on the couch being blown by 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 you see what I'm
getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a
better heart than my moderately attractive Audrey? 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 or her**ty, shameless hunger, but something
else.
Some niggling feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And
then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there,
Audrey, to watch.
Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus,
Audrey, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just
reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at Pontins last year?
Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she
figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know
what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few
glasses of wine and the next thing you know we're banging away in
our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack.
She's giving me everything, you know like a real woman does when
she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can
hear us. And all of a sudden she spots 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 me sad
too.
'Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Audrey 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 aid."
Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining
order.
I mean, Vicky'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 given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in
general. She's pulling for us to get back together, Audrey,
She really is. So we're drinking in a hot bath and talking about
happier times.
Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I
can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And
that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole
anal thing and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you
about trying it and how that probably fuelled some of the bitterness between us. But
do you 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, Audrey. In your heart you know it. Don't you
think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start
fresh?
I think we can. If you feel the same please please please
let me know, otherwise, can you let me know where the Sky remote
control is.
Kisses John
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Replies: 8
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Later, after I'd
tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, hahahahahahahahaha!!! |
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yeah Super...brilliant...the younger sister bit at the end cracked me up,its funnier after reading it all a couple of times.
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very UNFUNNY imo, definitely not worth the read, I will never trust you again golfboy :(
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just what i would expect from a Man Utd fan!...
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i genuinely "LOL"d at a lot of that!
It's my kind of humour. |
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this is funny
i had a dog called minton who had a habit of eating shuttle coc ks bad minton ,lol, eh eg |
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if only you knew - assumption is the mother of all **-ups ! :D
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or an old lady came up to me at the cash machine and said my eyesights bad can you check my balance
so i pushed her over, lol, eh eh!!!!!!!!!! |