Improvability Blog

Dear Wife,

I’m writing you this letter to tell you that I’m leaving you forever. I’ve been a good man to you for 7 years and I have nothing to show for it.

These last 2 weeks have been hell. Your boss called to tell me that you quit your job today and that was the last straw. Last week, you came home and didn’t even notice I had a new haircut, had cooked your favourite meal and even wore a brand new pair of silk boxer shorts.

You ate in 2 minutes and went straight to sleep after watching all of your soaps. You don’t tell me you love me any more; 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-Husband

P.S. Don’t try to find me. Your SISTER & I are moving away to West Wales together! Have a great life!

Dear Ex-Husband

Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It’s true you and I have been married for 7 years, although a good man is a far cry from what you’ve been.

I watch my soaps so much because they drown out your constant whining and griping. Too bad that doesn’t work. I DID notice when you got a hair cut last week, but the first thing that came to mind was ‘You look just like a girl!’ 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 got me confused with MY SISTER, because I stopped eating pork 7 years ago.

About those new silk boxer shorts: I turned away from you because the £29.99 price tag was still on them and I prayed it was a coincidence that my sister had just borrowed £30 from me that morning.

After all of this, I still loved you and felt we could work it out. So when I won the lottery of 10 million pounds, I quit my job and bought us 2 tickets to Jamaica. 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 penny from me. So take care.

Signed
Your Ex-Wife
Rich As Hell and Free!

P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my sister Carla was born Carl…

When four of Santa’s elves became sick, the replacement trainees were just not able to produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa started to feel the pre-Christmas pressure.

Mrs. Claus told Santa her mother was coming to visit. Santa’s stress levels rose another notch.

He went to harness the reindeer.  He discovered that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and had disappeared into the Arctic Circle, never to be seen again.  Santa’s blood pressure was starting to bubble.

He began to load the sleigh.  One of the floorboards cracked, the massive toy bag fell, scattering all the presents across the floor. Santa’s ears were beginning to steam.

So he went in seach of a calming a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. Opening the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drunk all the cider and hidden the liquor.

Frustrated beyond words, he accidentally dropped the cider jug.  It broke into thousands of tiny glass pieces all over the kitchen floor.  His red face bulging with fury, Santa went to get the broom.  And discovered that mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

By now, Santa was on the edge…

… when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Ready to strangle the very next person to irritate him, a red-faced, furious, stressed-out Santa stomped to the door and yanked it open.

And there stood a sweet little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

In a sweet and cheerful voice the angel said, ‘Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn’t this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?’

And thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

Not a lot of people know that...