Why get divorced? Go to Prison!

A man who hates his wife so much, he robs a bank so he can get caught.

That is sadly demented and bombastically crazy.

Think I’m making this crazy up?

In a world that makes no sense, this is the poster child.

Let’s get in Mr. Miller’s mind for just a moment, shall we? I hate my wife and I want to leave her, but if I leave her she says she’ll kill herself. Oh lord! What prey tell shall I do?

For most men looking to chew off their own arm to escape the matrimonial urinal that comes with “I do”, this is akin to holding a winning lottery ticket, standing at a topless pool, drinking beer right from th tap.

Not only do you get to kick your old lady to the curb, but she plans on taking a dirt nap, too. Makes the alimony calculations a lot easier to tabulate huh?

But obviously Mr. Miller is wired differently. He wanted to leave but not with the bloody stain of Mrs. Miller’s suicide lingering in his thoughts.

So he probably throws back a couple of shots of Bushmills and conjures up a plan that would give Quentin Tarantino pause to think.

I’ll rob a bank, Miller thinks to himself. But I won’t really rob it. I’ll pretend to rob it with a bb gun. I’ll make it look good, make the tellers wet their panties a little. But when it starts getting serious, I’ll make sure I’m caught.

Not only did Miller get caught, published reports indicate he kept asking the tellers where the cops were, and how long before I can start my new life.

“Freeze, you’re under arrest!” the boys in blue scream as they Serpico their way into the bank.

Thank God Miller thinks to himself, holding his arms out to help the police more quickly slap on the cuffs.

Damn! Mrs. Miller must have really been a bitch.

According to the news report: Miller pleaded guilty in June. Lancaster County Judge Louis Farina sentenced him to three to six years in prison on Monday.
Beyer said the couple divorced within the last year.

Another happy ending in Lancaster County.

Let me ask you one simple question? How bad is your life that you arrest yourself? How much do you despise your wife so much that you are willing to sit in a 10 x 10 slab for 6 years? For better for worse and if all else fails; incarceration?

Jeez the options For Miller were endless. How bout a mistress? What about bigamy. Join the peace corp and feed starving people. Send Mrs Miller on a round the world cruise where you pay someone to accidentally bump her over the rail. Make her hate you so much that she actually contemplates robbing a bank so she can go to prison.

Did you ever consider that moron?

You had so many options and the one you chose, though unique, is irrational.

I say dare to dream Miller. Now you’re in prison serving 3 to 6. You didn’t want to get divorced? Think about that the next time you drop the soap. Now you’re married to a tattooed sex offender named Bubba who is going to try and make you squeal like a sun burned hamster.

Honestly Miller. Your effort was laudable, even if it is perhaps the stupidest thing I have ever read about.

As your marriage counselor and parole officer, I would have admonished you to file the separation paperwork. I mean half of all marriages untie themself. It is what it is.

You should have walked away. You should have done it with flair, leaving your loaded Smith and Wesson on the kitchen counter. Just how crazy is she? You think leaving her is enough to get her to start juggling the cutlery? I say let’s find out. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Let’s find out.

I wish I had your email address before you pulled this stupid stunt, Miller. I would have sent you a discount coupon for harmony Dot Com. One college co-ed, a bottle of tequilla and a night of vomiting across Mexico might have had you whistling a different tune.

I might have suggested you get a simple IQ test to see if you are certifiably retarded. I don’t know you, but you sure seem like I should reserve a seat on the short bus for you.

I would slap you in the face with a wet wash cloth and ask you one simple question. Hey Cheese Brain, I can see going to jail for the woman you love, but why go to jail for the woman you loathe?

So now you’re in the joint and the other fellas treat you like a Victoria secrets under wear model.

And once word gets around the yard that you didn’t have the stones or the smarts to actually hold up the bank, you might as hang a occupancy limit sign on your bunk.

So Mr. Miller, had I known, you were so stupid and so misguided, I surely would have reached out to you.

I would have advised you to leave Mrs. Miller in a heart beat. “here you go baby,” here’s some old dental floss and a half used stick of Old Spice to remember me by.

MILLER OUT!

You could have walked through the door that leads to the rest of your life. A world where you could have inhaled new challenges and new scenery and new women to make giggle. But best of all, the only image of Mrs. Miller you’d have to see is the one in your rear view mirror.

Now you are divorced. Hurray. She’s gone and you’re the bottom bitch in the big house.

Funny how life can get so crazy huh?