"You bastard. Don't bother coming home tonight. I have changed all the locks anyway. I also did some spring cleaning and threw all your clothes out of the window. The homeless bearded guy, who lives across from Starbucks, seems really happy in your tux. I am writing this mail from the new Ipad your mother bought you for your birthday. It's a bit dusty so when I'm finished I'll put it in the washer together with those expensive, leather cowboy boots you bought in Rome. You piece of S! How could you do this to me? Who is the red haired bimbo who's hairs I found in our bed? Was it really necessary to shag her in our bedroom? Anyway I must go. I have to finish repainting your Corvette."
"Hi it's me again. Please ignore the previous mail. I haven't yet got used to my red perm even though Georgio, my stylist, says it's all the rage now. The nice man at the garage says he can replace all the ripped tyres and repaint the car by  Tuesday. Why don't you come home early and then we can get you something to wear at the outlets. There's a bus that takes us there direct. Love U."

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