My life sucks hairy balls that were not dried properly after bathing and smell like damp, and a bit musty. YEAH.

No no no no no

You can’t do this to me,

I thought I had an awesome no pain no fee divorce going on,

And now it’s getting a little more technicolour here people. It’s growing closer to the comfortably familiar eye scratching photo burning American comedy movie dynamic.

YES people, just days after I finally pop the cork below deck, finally things getting sufficiently salty down there, feeling ship shape and after having my portholes scrubbed, (don’t ask about the nautical theme just go with it) what happens?

I’m deep in the shit.

Why me? What did I ever do? The bastarding cuntwanker of a shiteating assholecockmunchingrectalgrowthbastard of a fuckcock of a future ex husband of mine, is deciding to leave me with ALL the motherfucking debts we incurred as a spend-happy irresponsible couple with a fucking mortgage.

That means I have to pay eveyrthing. All the old bills. All the bastardng taxes we will have to pay if we want to put the apartment into my name (we do, or else he still owns half while I pay all the mortgage) and he is convinced in his deluded fucking mind that this means he just gets bad credit and I don’t have to pay. He is a fucking moron. We’re married, you cockblanket, I yell at him. What do you think happens here? Tu debts, mi debts, compadre. Fuck you.

He refuses these facts I am just regurgitating after lawyer and notary both told me solemnly, because he “asked around too”. Oh fuck you, you piece of shit. All I wanted to do was make you pies and give you legal status in this country, it’s not my fault I lost interest, you lost interest too so fuck you, and this is how you repay me? I feel like the captain in Pocahontas, except she took his boat and sold it when they got to England and then left him penniless and sailed back to the new world and talked smack about him. And we can’t even sell the fucking apartment because of huge tax penalties and bullshit and we are both so fucking broke. I feel so bad about buying those leather pants now.

Right I’m feeling very unsexy now and quite vitriolic, in fact after my communications with cockface, I ate a bag of fudge and had two chicken instant cups of soup with crutons, and there weren’t enough crutons in the shitty little sachet so I busted out the emergency jar from back when I was an awesome wife to an undeserving debt-evading pigfaced wankartist and I made my own crutons…. and so I ate a lot of those crutons too. Oh no imagine this, the last punch in the face of my ex, to drag me back down… leave me with a boatload of debts and responsibilities I’m too fucking young and awesome to deal with on my own, and also MAKE ME FAT.

Ooh but in good news, I got new black silk sheets. they are awesome. Yes, a little sweaty in the hot summer evenings, but my bed really looks like somewhere someone might conceivably have sex in sometime, so I feel a little motivated by that.

Yeah right, I’m just comfort eating while I cry inside because my life is turning out to be the exact opposite of what I ever expected. And also I had a burst of enthusiasm today and decided I was going to study computer science, and then I looked up the courses and somehow had neglected to realise maths is a failry important part of the basis of computers and yeah my maths went to shit somewhere between being awesome at multiplication and final school exams and they were no longer giving out yellow stickers for being good at multiplication. So there goes my career as a computer scientist, killed before it even had the chance to begin. What am I going to do with myself now? Oh you can guess can you? Well fuck no. I’m too low to even bother. That’s low, you know.

Sorry for this post. And no, I’m actually not. Now fuck off.

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2 responses to “My life sucks hairy balls that were not dried properly after bathing and smell like damp, and a bit musty. YEAH.

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