as soon as the papers were filed, The Head Mental Patient started assaulting, daily, my poor inbox with nasty, mean-spirited hate mail. i have enough to publish a book which i plan to name, “How to Divorce a Crazy Man,” or something along those lines. my response to his vengeful emails was normally to ignore them, because he is a manchild & really just wants my attention, and, they are, after all, the rantings of a madman. over the months, the emails would ebb & flo: eventually subsiding from my lack of attention and then returning when he went on a new anger bender from the lack of control he had over me. once in awhile i would respond with logic in an attempt to make his head explode. lately, i usually respond with, “sounds good. have a smurfy day, ” or “ok, hugs and kisses, sweetcheeks,” all of which make him foam at the mouth & me giggle.
of course, i forward all of these emails to my bfbff (swv lingo for boyfriendbestfriendforever), and after we catch our breath from laughing hysterically, we think of all the sarcastic, annoying, silly responses we can. last night was one such night, where inspired by a new resurgence of asshat rage, i waxed poetic. i would like to share my poems with you since not only are they amusing and are going to be a new line of svw greeting cards, but they make great filler until i finish all of my 1/2 done posts on other topics.
the svw line of happy divorce (tm) greeting cards:
roses are red, violets are blue, we no longer fuck, but i am still screwing you.
roses are red, you never had a clue, you were a really sucky husband, i’m glad i’m no longer married to you.
rose are red, you smell like dog poo, i hated every disgusting minute, i had to fuck you.
rose are red, you must be very blue, i’m taking 1/2 half the cash, sucks for you.
roses are red, giraffe’s necks are long, you have a miniscule penis, and i knew all along.
roses are red, my lingirie is new, my boyfriend fucks me awesome, hope you’re gettin’ some too.
roses are red, these sweet shoes are brand new, you made tons of cash, and i thank you.
roses are red, wine has a cork, you were an awful husband, and a giant fucking dork.
roses are red, your brains are full of goo, it was a horrible 16 years, happy un-anniversary to you.
roses are red, some carnations are blue, i always hated your mother, and your dad’s an asshole too.
roses are red, life isn’t fair, you are a hairy troll, here’s a gallon of nair.
roses are red, cows like to moo, you think you’re a ka-ra-tay master, but you can’t throw a shoe.
roses are red, this was the best decision, keeps the checks coming, or you will be imprisoned.
roses are red, copper is shiney, i want all the world to know, your cock is quite tiny.
rose are red, my boyfriend is young, your wiener is small, but he is well hung.
roses are red, violets are blue, you are a worthless human being, good riddance to you.
i’m taking orders for the holidays. personalization is free.
so “the holidays” are coming. the jewish holidays, of course. every year at this time, like all my fellow tribesmen, i am saddled with the responsibility of explaining what the holidays “mean” to all of you
