dont let your dumb ass wife drive your car...
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From: Arizona
SL55AMG, Ferrari 348, Ferrari Testarossa, Ferrari F40, Ferrari Mondial t, Ducati 916, Indycar
I can see why everyone is getting a bit ruffled about this subject. My ex-wife would drive my cars and invariably something would be broken upon its return........and she would never repair it. When I break something....guess what? i have to pay for it, and fix it.
The current fiancee is driving a G500 that I bought, and I swear that it looks like the bottom of a purse. When you get into it, there is a 10 minute ordeal of finding the seats and the floor, because of all the junk, and I routinely have to ask what color the car is, because of the dirt. I just sigh, and figure that its a 'chick thing'. But I swear......her next car is a used Hundai!
The current fiancee is driving a G500 that I bought, and I swear that it looks like the bottom of a purse. When you get into it, there is a 10 minute ordeal of finding the seats and the floor, because of all the junk, and I routinely have to ask what color the car is, because of the dirt. I just sigh, and figure that its a 'chick thing'. But I swear......her next car is a used Hundai!
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CLS63 Designo Edition, Hyundai Genesis 3.8 , Veloster Turbo, CLS500(Sold), E320 (SMOKED) R500 (Sold)
Omg
I cannot say my wife is a dumbass, but I prefer for her to drive her own car. Being that I am about to purchase a CLS, and she has a E320 she WILL be primarily driving it (the E320 THAT IS).
Flynavy, your letter is hilarious dude. Bigups to gixxer.
I love my wife, but she does destroy things. I bought her the chrome wheels to go on the E320last year, and well she only rashed one. Then she asks...can we just get that spot fixed? LOL. I had to tell her, babe the whole wheel must be redone just leave it be and laughed and then we went out to dinner. It's just a car. Until I get the CLS!
Flynavy, your letter is hilarious dude. Bigups to gixxer.
I love my wife, but she does destroy things. I bought her the chrome wheels to go on the E320last year, and well she only rashed one. Then she asks...can we just get that spot fixed? LOL. I had to tell her, babe the whole wheel must be redone just leave it be and laughed and then we went out to dinner. It's just a car. Until I get the CLS!
Last edited by bigben320e; Jul 25, 2007 at 06:37 PM. Reason: More to add
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everything and anything
Damn that sounded like my ex....... she was the only person I met that thought the Costco shopping carts park with the yellow posts were a parking space. I ended up with two nice looking yellow pin strips on my car
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From: Stockholm, Sweden
W211 E55 AMG
****, im still laughing... that mental picture is killing me...
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From: South Carolina
2012 SLS AMG
FLYNAVY......
That is the funniest thing I have EVER read on this forum!!! AWESOME..... Sorry guys, unfortunatley (or maybe fortunately) I have no such stories. The wife is afraid of driving the car and when she does she is more careful than I am. I'm sure that will change. Thanks for sharing all the stories. I have been here laughing my *** off after a hard day of work.
That is the funniest thing I have EVER read on this forum!!! AWESOME..... Sorry guys, unfortunatley (or maybe fortunately) I have no such stories. The wife is afraid of driving the car and when she does she is more careful than I am. I'm sure that will change. Thanks for sharing all the stories. I have been here laughing my *** off after a hard day of work.
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From: Seattle WA
99 E320
FLYNAVY-
I've seen this letter before. Always funny and doesn't seem to get old every
time it resurfaces. It'll end up being one of those classic Net funnies which re-
surfaces periodically. great timing!
I've seen this letter before. Always funny and doesn't seem to get old every
time it resurfaces. It'll end up being one of those classic Net funnies which re-
surfaces periodically. great timing!
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From: Mid-west
IS300
Mad rep points if you divorce her, and then drop her this note a few months later...
Dear xxxx,
I know the counselor 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 looking 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, xxxx." 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 Flamingos 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. **** like you wouldn't believe and an *** that just wouldn't quit. 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 xxxx? 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 nagging 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 to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, xxxx, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge 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. Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't manatee 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 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 advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together, xxxx, she really is. So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble 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 **** thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled 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, xxxx. In your heart you must know it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can.
If you feel the same please, please, please let me know. Otherwise, can you buy me a new *******g e63. Love xxx
Dear xxxx,
I know the counselor 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 looking 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, xxxx." 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 Flamingos 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. **** like you wouldn't believe and an *** that just wouldn't quit. 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 xxxx? 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 nagging 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 to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, xxxx, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge 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. Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't manatee 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 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 advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together, xxxx, she really is. So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble 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 **** thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled 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, xxxx. In your heart you must know it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can.
If you feel the same please, please, please let me know. Otherwise, can you buy me a new *******g e63. Love xxx
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2005 E55 Black
Men are from Mars....Women are from Venus or whatever that book title was. Men are "cause and effect" type of people. We are very aware of our surroundings and their implications Men are proactive drivers while women tend to be reactive drivers. When I see a huge pot hole I drive around it. My wife on the other hand goes "Oooh what was that?" as we shove our kidneys and fillings back in after driving right through the pot hole.
Owning a motorcycle also increases my awareness of the harsh environment we drive our cars through every day. Ever follow a semi on a motorcycle. The huge flat back ends of those trailers create a vacuum that sucks up all the fine sand, rocks and debris on the side of the road and puts you in a sandblaster.
Following a dumptruck with a fresh load of gravel is good for a few road chips or maybe a broken windshield. Women just drive along totally oblivious to their outside environment. Rocks could be banging off the windshield and they wonder why it's raining when it's sunny outside.
Here is a copy of "The Best Divorce Letter Ever" that was going around on the internet about 2 years ago.
Owning a motorcycle also increases my awareness of the harsh environment we drive our cars through every day. Ever follow a semi on a motorcycle. The huge flat back ends of those trailers create a vacuum that sucks up all the fine sand, rocks and debris on the side of the road and puts you in a sandblaster.
Following a dumptruck with a fresh load of gravel is good for a few road chips or maybe a broken windshield. Women just drive along totally oblivious to their outside environment. Rocks could be banging off the windshield and they wonder why it's raining when it's sunny outside.
Here is a copy of "The Best Divorce Letter Ever" that was going around on the internet about 2 years ago.
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From: school west coast-Summer Internships Va and Bmore
E55 (for sale if the right offer comes along)...too many others to list
Hmmm....while I agree that women for the most part keep the contents of the closet in the back seat and have been known to scratch a few rims, imagine how a girl with a nice car feels when the rolls are reversed? I get livid when someone hurts my car, but don't stress when my boyfriend who is a car nut does something to my baby. He's so darn handsome and easy to forgive.
Ease up on the wife. Just don't let her drive it after you get it fixed.
Ease up on the wife. Just don't let her drive it after you get it fixed.
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From: Stockholm, Sweden
W211 E55 AMG
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2006 Black Opel 350 4matic
Funny you say that.... I have a myspace account and one of my pictures is my e class with the caption "the wife"
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