Tuesday, May 11, 2004
The seven year itch can scratch my balls
I wonder how many married men there are out there who haven't been verbally accosted by some bitter, unwanted divorced guy with tales about the horror and inevitablility of splitting up. Now granted, there are a lot of couples out there that should just quit while they still have the opportunity to latch codependently on the next unwitting sap, but surely some of us are meant to last.
What I love about these prophetic warnings is that the anniversary that Nina and I are going to split up just happens to be identicle to the year that he got dumped. It's like there's this invisible barrier that cannot be negotiated and that must claim even the strongest of bonds. After all, if it took his ex-wife seven years to learn that he jacks off to internet clips of 12 year-old Japanese school boys being raped and that there's a crackwhore in South Phoenix who's been paying for her apartment with the income he secretly made as a drug smuggler, then I must be doomed to exposure at the seven year mark too.
Now for those of you who have survived being married for a decade or two, you may not hear this very often, but after six years wearing this gold band I still have to sit at blackjack tables and listen to these miserable bastards tell me that the flame is still there because I'm still a newlywed. Newlywed?!?! Are you fucking kidding me? Hey man, once you can anticipate your partners's bowel movements I'd say the honeymoon is pretty much over. I mean six years is a long time, just ask any teenager.
Typically, this is how the conversation will go:
Divorced loser: So how long have you two been together?
Supercool married me: Just over six years.
Divorced loser: Oh, so that's why.
Supercool married me: Why what?
Divorced loser: Why you two are still nice to each other. You're still newlyweds.
Supercool married me: A six-year honeymoon?
Divorced loser: Yeah, man. Just wait until next year. That's when everything turns to shit.
Supercool married me: Really, and how long were you married?
Divorced loser: That bitch took seven years away from my life. WAAAAHHH!!!
Supercool married me: Tell you what, on my eighth anniversary I'll dedicate one of our twenty-three celebretory fucks that day to you.
Divorced loser: Hmmm. Maybe you two will make it and hiding from my wife that I'm a gay pedophile drug dealer with a penchant for crackwhores was a mistake.
Well, maybe that last line was more thought than spoken. And when did staying together become some kind of competition? Does the bitter lonely bastard who was divorced after ten years get some kind of prize that the bitter miserable bastard divorced after five doesn't? If anything I would think it was the other way around. Early divorce = newer pussy! Young failures win!
Conclusion: divorced people are like heroin addicts, sure they tell you how it couldn't be avoided and how great it is now, but once you're in the club you're just another whore for self-pity and loneliness. Mike the married stud: 1 Divorced losers: 0.
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What I love about these prophetic warnings is that the anniversary that Nina and I are going to split up just happens to be identicle to the year that he got dumped. It's like there's this invisible barrier that cannot be negotiated and that must claim even the strongest of bonds. After all, if it took his ex-wife seven years to learn that he jacks off to internet clips of 12 year-old Japanese school boys being raped and that there's a crackwhore in South Phoenix who's been paying for her apartment with the income he secretly made as a drug smuggler, then I must be doomed to exposure at the seven year mark too.
Now for those of you who have survived being married for a decade or two, you may not hear this very often, but after six years wearing this gold band I still have to sit at blackjack tables and listen to these miserable bastards tell me that the flame is still there because I'm still a newlywed. Newlywed?!?! Are you fucking kidding me? Hey man, once you can anticipate your partners's bowel movements I'd say the honeymoon is pretty much over. I mean six years is a long time, just ask any teenager.
Typically, this is how the conversation will go:
Divorced loser: So how long have you two been together?
Supercool married me: Just over six years.
Divorced loser: Oh, so that's why.
Supercool married me: Why what?
Divorced loser: Why you two are still nice to each other. You're still newlyweds.
Supercool married me: A six-year honeymoon?
Divorced loser: Yeah, man. Just wait until next year. That's when everything turns to shit.
Supercool married me: Really, and how long were you married?
Divorced loser: That bitch took seven years away from my life. WAAAAHHH!!!
Supercool married me: Tell you what, on my eighth anniversary I'll dedicate one of our twenty-three celebretory fucks that day to you.
Divorced loser: Hmmm. Maybe you two will make it and hiding from my wife that I'm a gay pedophile drug dealer with a penchant for crackwhores was a mistake.
Well, maybe that last line was more thought than spoken. And when did staying together become some kind of competition? Does the bitter lonely bastard who was divorced after ten years get some kind of prize that the bitter miserable bastard divorced after five doesn't? If anything I would think it was the other way around. Early divorce = newer pussy! Young failures win!
Conclusion: divorced people are like heroin addicts, sure they tell you how it couldn't be avoided and how great it is now, but once you're in the club you're just another whore for self-pity and loneliness. Mike the married stud: 1 Divorced losers: 0.
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