Here's the famous 'Best Divorce Letter' kwa Dan to Connie, pretty hilarious, definitely a must read! xD
Dear Connie,
I know the counselor alisema we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore.
The siku wewe left, I swore I'd never talk to wewe 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 wewe 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 songesha 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 moyo says "There's no one like you, Connie. I look for wewe in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close."
Two weeks zamani I met this girl at Flamingoes and brought her nyumbani 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 wewe wouldn't believe and punda that just wouldn't quite. Every man's dream, right?
As I sat on the kitanda being blown kwa 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 wewe see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better moyo 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 au 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 wewe weren't there to watch. Do wewe 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 wewe remember Carol that singe mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped kwa last week with a pan of lasagna. She alisema 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 inayofuata thing wewe know we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, wewe know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight au 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 kwa 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 aliyopewa me lots of good advice about wewe 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 wewe and all I can do is think of how much she looks like wewe when wewe 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 wewe about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do wewe 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 moyo wewe must know it. Don't wewe think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If wewe feel the same please please please, let me know.
Otherwise, can wewe let me know where the f***ing remote is?
upendo Dan
link the link to the actual letter.
Dear Connie,
I know the counselor alisema we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore.
The siku wewe left, I swore I'd never talk to wewe 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 wewe 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 songesha 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 moyo says "There's no one like you, Connie. I look for wewe in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close."
Two weeks zamani I met this girl at Flamingoes and brought her nyumbani 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 wewe wouldn't believe and punda that just wouldn't quite. Every man's dream, right?
As I sat on the kitanda being blown kwa 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 wewe see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better moyo 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 au 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 wewe weren't there to watch. Do wewe 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 wewe remember Carol that singe mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped kwa last week with a pan of lasagna. She alisema 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 inayofuata thing wewe know we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, wewe know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight au 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 kwa 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 aliyopewa me lots of good advice about wewe 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 wewe and all I can do is think of how much she looks like wewe when wewe 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 wewe about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do wewe 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 moyo wewe must know it. Don't wewe think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If wewe feel the same please please please, let me know.
Otherwise, can wewe let me know where the f***ing remote is?
upendo Dan
link the link to the actual letter.
