Keith and The Girl Forums - The letter I wrote to my whore wife

For all of you to enjoy. :)

Getting arrested because you're fucking a gutterpunk in a car while you're married. Absolutely charming.

You're a whore. I no longer care about you. I no longer know you. You have one week, starting Friday the 21st to remove your shit from my apartment before I throw it in the dumpster. You will do this in my presence, as frankly, you're not to be trusted here. I will be locking the windows, as well as deadbolting the door, so you might want to hand over my key, as I've already talked to Matt about changing the locks. He's ready on a whim, even while I'm not home.

I will be removing your insurance, as well as your phone, at the end of the month. It's become quite clear to me that you are beyond help. You are a self-destructive mess that will most likely never clean up, and the idea of even associating with you makes me sick to my stomach.

I hope you enjoy the life you've chosen to give up. I don't pity you anymore. These decision are ones you've made, and you're an overdose in the gutter waiting to happen.

I suggest you drop from Dayton. At the very least, from any social scene you beleive me to be involved in. None of these people want you around. However, I can't stop you. In the event that you find yourself compelled to social ridicule, you are not to speak to me. When the new year hits, and my legal insurance kicks in, we will begin the dissolution. And it WILL be a dissolution because a.) you can't afford a divorce and b.) in the event that you can, you won't even walk away with the cat. I've already spoken to a lawyer, who is pushing for me to take everything. Unlike you, I'm not completely heartless, so I told him no. I will be fair. You do NOT, however, deserve fair.

I have absolutely no interest in keeping things that have anything to do with you, so you will not walk away empty handed assuming you're cooperative. But understand that anything you leave with will ultimately be my decision.

There are certain things that I insist either leave with you, or with the garbagemen. Particularly, any sort of memento from the collosal mistake that most people know as our wedding. Pictures, cards, whatever. Perhaps one day, you can show your illegitimate children what mommy did before she started sucking cock to turn the heat on.

You were a mistake. a giant mistake that I intend to recover from without a single drift in the wind of a thought of you, years from now. Maybe you'll come out of this okay. Maybe you really will be something great someday. But the point is that I don't really care.

Stay away from me. I'll contact you when I'm ready with the dissolution. Then I can finally be rid of this fucking mess you've created for everyone.