Ding, dong, the wicked witch is definitely dead. If you watch the news, you know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, go Google “nursing home” and “blows the hell up” and you’ll see what I mean. And who has two thumbs and was the only one without his head up his ass about a certain criminal/fast-food magnate? THIS guy. I know; I’m gloating and it’s bad form. I don’t even care. If you’re the guy who everyone thinks is crying wolf, it feels damn good when a big hairy wolf shows up and bites everyone right in the face. Damn good.
Come on God, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel at this point. Where’s the challenge, big guy? You can’t tell me there isn’t some tremendous douche biscuit out there just cruising for a bruising at the hands of ol’ fickle fate. I mean, kicking the crippled guy while he’s down? That’s just lazy … I’m on the job. I refuse to let insignificant shit like gunshot wounds, paralysis, or car wrecks bring me down. Child’s play.
The point here is: sometimes, occasionally — and I’m talking about once in a blue moon — my wife is a pain in my ass. I mean, like a bear trap to the rear end. Sorry, honey, if you’re reading this, but I know you could say a helluva lot worse about me. And there are a lot of things that can change in a marriage. Sometimes, they’re really not meant to be. People don’t want the same things. People change. And sometimes there’s just a breath that comes along and blows it all apart. I saw that happen tonight to my sister- and brother-in-law. Saw what happens when the house of cards comes down. And it makes me think, maybe I’m okay with a bear trap on my ass. Maybe, that’s not so bad after all.
I want more like this!
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