My Breaking Up Letter...

Discussion in 'Diamond Lil's' started by sgtpepperband, Jun 24, 2010.

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  1. sgtpepperband

    sgtpepperband War Hero Moderator Book Reviewer

    Just sent this to the missus - tell me what you guys think... :oops:

    Dear Susan,

    I know the counsellor 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 cooking 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, Susan. 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 Tiger Tiger 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 Susan? 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 slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some fucking 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, Susan, to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Susan, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.

    Do you remember Carol, that single mum we met in Plymouth 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. Because I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Susan 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 dropped 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, Susan, 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, Susan. 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 remote control is.


    :shock: :twisted:
  2. Truly spectacular.How could she not be moved by that work of art? Winner that

    Tiger Tiger..........oh such classy memories.
  3. Old ones are the best sgt p :D .

    'Cinnamon ring' :lol: .

    Who cooks lasagne in a pan though?
  4. Doubt it matters when ya have a cinnamon ring for dessert :)
  5. Blackrat

    Blackrat War Hero Moderator Book Reviewer

    Dear Bird,

    After reading this letter, you have 5 minutes to fuck off out of the house, as i will be torching it. By the way, i faked every orgasm.


  6. A shameless late attempt for 'Legend of the Month'.
  7. Yes SPB i will take you back.
  8. Used to have a girlfriend like that.. got on really well with her little sister too :twisted:
  9. Well if you're taking him back, you could at least have the decency to give me time to get my things out the bedroom. Selfish bastard :D
  10. Anyone remember that one that was doing the rounds a few years back?

    I've posted it somewhere before but it's relevant to this thread so here goes.

    So there's this Squaddy/Matelot/Booty/Generic Serviceman right? He goes away on Deployment/Tour to Iraq/Afghanistan/The Gulf and is out giving the ragheads the good news for a few weeks when he gets the dreaded 'dear John' letter from his pash back home.

    The letter goes a little something like this:

    Dear John,

    I'm afraid I can't go on like this. The long distance thing just isn't working for me and I can't cope any more. I think it's only fair to tell you that I've been seeing someone else since you've been away and we are moving in to together. Please don't be upset, I just couldn't go on the way things were. Please could you send me back 'that' picture I gave you, remember the one from the hotel from that weekend in Spain? I can't bare the idea of someone else seeing it.




    So our brave hero after a little cry and taking out his fury on a discarded jazz mag in the portaloo/heads, decides to take his revenge. He wanders around the base/ship and explains his predicament to everyone, he asks them for as many phots of women as they can spare, anything will do, mum's, aunts, wives, daughters, filthy phots from pompey scutters, anything.

    After a while he has a nice bag full of phots and puts them all in a parcel with Claire's address, he slips the following note in amongst the pics:

    Hi Claire,

    I'm really sorry, but I'm having trouble remembering which one you are, if you could just take your photo from the selection in the parcel then send the others back to me, I'd be much obliged.



    True story that is, happened to a mate's brother's sea dad on the massive.
  11. I think I may have the remote .I picked it up by mistake.I'll drop it round later :D
  12. sgtpepperband

    sgtpepperband War Hero Moderator Book Reviewer

    Feck off - I'm fed up, not hard up... :D
  13. Ungrateful bastard.
  14. sgtpepperband

    sgtpepperband War Hero Moderator Book Reviewer

    Well it's you own fault - you said you wouldn't swallow, so I just had to look elsewhere... 8O
  16. Few years back I found out some tart I'd been foolish enough to let my testicles grow fond of had been hopping on the good foot and doing the bad thing with some other sucker. With her hating my passion for a certain cartoon I decided I could only think of one way to put things to her, Valentines Day card "Dear Baby, Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: You."

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