Dear Connie, I know the counsellor said we should no longer contact each other during our cooling off period but I can't wait any longer. The day you left me, I swore that I would never talk to you again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking.

I didn't want to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me and beg for forgiveness. Which is what you should be doing but I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care if it looks bad to others. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak out.

There's no one like you Connie. I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they are not yours, they're not even close! Two weeks ago I met this girl at the Flamingo and brought her home with me. I am not telling you this to hurt you, just to show you how desparate I have become without you. She was young, maybe 19, with one of those perfect bodies with flawless, tight skin, that only youth and maybe a lifetime of ice skating can give them. I mean just absolutely perfect with magnificent breasts and an ass that you want to kiss all night.

As I sat on the couch with her head in my lap, I thought to myself, what does it mean that she is perfect in so many ways? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case the answer is YES, but you know what I mean. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive wife Connie? I doubt it but her ass is amazing!

Later, after she completely drained me, I found myself thinking "Why do I feel so empty?" It wasn't just her flwaless technique and her willingness to do anything to make me happy, it was something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Then it hit me, it was because you were not there to watch. I want to share everything with you and although she is only 19, she could teach you a lot.

Do you remember Carol the single mom we met at the hockey tournament last year? Well she dropped by with some lasgana, thinking I was not going to be eating well without you here. We ended up banging away in our bedroom after discussing how wonderful you are. She's giving me everything, not hung up about her weight, or her career, or whether we will wake up the kids, she just screamed like a banshee. Then she noticed your grandmother's old vanity, moved it to the end of the bed and it was just like watching a video. How is it that you never thought of that?

Saturday your sister dropped by with my copy of your retraining order. I mean Vicky is just a kid but she has been a great friend throughout this painful time. She's hoping that we wil get back together. All I can think of is how much she looks like you when you were 18, particularly from behind. The same DNA but she is doing things you never would and asking for more. But I hope you see that even when Vicky and I are doing it 4 or 5 times a day, I'm only thinking of you. In your heart you must know it. Can't we start over? Vicky says she will keep seeing me on the side if it helps us rekindle our relationship. She says she has lots of girlfriends who can help me if you are not in the mood or have a headache. What a great sister you have! It brings tears to my eyes knowing that she loves you enough to drop by almost every day after school. I hope she stays here for college. Perhaps moving in with us would save her some money. You know I would do anything for your family. Now you will have even more to talk to her about.

I think I have sacrificed enough and need you by my side. I think we can make it but you have to want it as badly as I do. I would like an answer soon (tomorrow would be good) because Carol is planning on coming over for dinner on Thursday and Vicky is having her sorority's pajama party here on the weekend. I don't want to hurt them but I should let them know and we should probably spend our first weekend together alone, at least until the boys come over for the football game. Could you make those great nachos?

If you can't find it in your heart to come back then could you please return the remote?

Love, Don

Barry wakes up with a massive hangover after attending his staff Christmas party without his wife. He can't even remember coming home. He forced himself to open his eyes and the first thing he sees is a glass of water and a bottle of aspirins on the side table. Next to them is a single rose.

Joe sits up and sees his clothing all clean and pressed and "I love you" written on the bedroom mirror. As he stares at it he realizes that he has a black eye but on the the dresser is a note, "Honey, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to pick up groceries for your favourite dinner tonight."

He stumbles into the kitchen and sure enough there is a hot breakfast, steaming pot of coffee, and the morning paper. His son is sitting there eating. Joe asks, "Son, what happened last night?

"Well Dad, you came through the door some time after 3 am and fell over the coffee table, getting a black eye when you broke it, then you brought up all over the new carpet." "Then why is your Mother so happy today?" Joe asked

"It's simple," he replied, "When Mom dragged you to the bedroom she tried to take your pants off to get you to bed, you screamed, Leave me alone, I'm a married man!"  

A man checks into a hotel on a business trip and felt quite lonely in a strange town.He thought of those girls that advertise in the phone books. He picked up the yellow pages and found an ad for the most beautifil woman he had ever seen, so with trembling fingers he made the call.

"Hello" she says in a deep throaty voice

"Hi, I read that you give great massages and I'd like you to come up to my room. No, I have to be honest with you I'm in town on business and what I'm really looking for is some fantastic sex. I want it hard, I want it hot, and I want you now. Bring all your toys, I'm up for anything that turns your crank. Tie me up, cover me in whipped cream and chocolate sauce, do whatever you want, and don't stop until the sun comes up."

She politely says, "That sounds fantastic, but you need to press 9 for an outside line"

It is a well-known fact that marriages for those in love have over a 50% failure rate, leading to a divorce. However, there is a viable solution. "Marry for Money" and here are the reasons:

(1) If two rich people get married, it does nothing for the economy

(2) If a poor person marries a rich person, then they spend a lot of money, which is good for the economy

(3) If they own enough homes around the World, you will probably only see your spouse several times a year. Which keeps the relationship fresh

(4) If things don't work out, you will have enough money from the marriage to start over or you could become the target for a poor person who wants to marry rich like you did

(5) You don't have to "save" money to but anything you want. The pressure of paying bills can put too much stress on the relationship

(6) You shouldn't be prejudiced against the rich, they are a minority group that deserves to be recognized and not avoided

Lastly, you might even learn to like your wealthy spouse after a few years because instead of going into the relationship blindly in love, you have a plan with an exit strategy, so there is no pressure on you to stay together. Which can lead to even greater happiness!

Watch for Bubba T's newest edition coming to a book store near you soon, "Happiness is only a Bank Book Away"

It is important for men to remember that as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping and speed as they did when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them (they may not hear you!). Some can be over-sensitive and there is nothing worse than a woman who over reacts to helpful advice.

My name is Jim. Let me relate my story. When I retired a few years ago from being a ski bum and couch potato. It became necessary for Christine to keep her full-time job that she has been at for the past 30 years,and find a good paying part-time job for the extra income and benefits that I require for my gout and weekly therapeutic massages at the Swedish Touch.

It wasn't long before she started showing her age. Normally when I arrive home from golfing as she comes home from work every day, she knows how hungry I will be but she insists on having a half hour rest. I don't yell at her. Instead I just tell her to wake me up when dinner is on the table. I usually eat at the Club on her tab before I come home so that I don't pass out from hunger.

She used to do all the dishes right after dinner but now they sit on the table for hours at a time. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves and she doesn't seem to understand that dishes that sit longer are harder to clean. I know she really appreciates me pointing this out as it does seem to motivate her before she goes to bed and draws my bath.

Another sympton is her complaining about not having enough time to pay the bills during her lunch hour. We are in this relationship for better or worse, so I smile and encourage her to spread it out over a few days. Of course it wouldn't hurt her to miss a few lunches if you know what I mean. I like to think that tact is one of my personal strong points, but it's not always appreciated.

She can be really funny at times. The other night she mentioned that making my golf lunch the night before would save her time in the morning as she leaves at 6 am for her 2 hour commute to the office. I laughed hysterically, because she knows that I like my sandwiches fresh and not soggy. My tee time is not until 11 am, and I don't get up until 10 am. She is the one that has plenty of time if she gets up just a little earlier. She can be a real kidder some days.

Now when she does the simplest jobs, she thinks she needs rest breaks, instead of just getting it done. The other day she was only half finished mowing the lawn and had to have a break. I try not to make a scene, I am a fair man. I tell her it's alright to fix herself a nice big glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and sit for a few minutes and as long as she is making one for herself, she might as well bring one out to my hammock for me to enjoy. You would think after all these years that she would cut the grass beneath the hammock before I come out. I hate standing there with the ice cold glass of lemonade dripping water from my hands. Why doesn't she carry any towels with her? But I never complain because she can be forgetful.

I know that you think I am a saint for supporting her unconditionally as I do, and trying to ignore all her flaws. I'm not saying putting up with this is easy. I hear some men even criticize their wives for slowing down. No one knows better than me how frustrating it can be to continually wait for her. However, guys you just need to use a little more tact and humour with less crticism. After all we are put on this earth to help each other.

It is my hope that by writing this letter more men will understand that it may take longer for things to get done but she will get to it if you take the time to point out how she could improve her speed or think less about herself and more about what is best for the wonderful husband she is so fortunate to be living with. She will soon know that she is blessed!

P.S. Jim died suddenly last week. The police found a Big Bertha driver, with extra large grip, jammed completely up his rear end and a sledge hammer beside him. Although his wife  Christine was immediately arrested with a huge smile on her face, the all woman jury took less than 15 minutes to find her not guilty. They believed her story that Jim accidentally sat down on his golf club. We are sad to report the loss of such a loving husband that was an example to all men.