A Word From the Not So Wise

February 8, 2022

Hello my lovely butterflies, as we embark on another week, I thought I would share some home truths with you before you go out into the world and face the same shiz different day, but with the same results. Firstly our mantra this week is, I will not start harming others, but I will stop mistreating myself. Give that one a think until it sinks in.

Now, for some reason, I’ve been inundated with thoughts about cheaters, betrayal, and heartbreak. Not my own, because you wouldn’t be getting updates on Patreon and Vella if that was to happen because I would be in jail. When giving others advice, I always lean towards taking the high road. Indifference is better than hate. Nothing gets under some azzhole’s skin better than you not giving a good damn. They don’t need to see your pain; it only feeds the monster that lives inside them. But every once in a while, my twin takes over, and she’s a violent bish. Case in point, she just now got through telling some poor woman to punch her cheating husband in the face. Now to be fair, I might be suffering from PMS, but who knows, this trick just shows up when the hell she wants like she pays rent. Anywho, bitcherella is on her shiz today, and she’s not with the shiznet. So, this poor child told me her horror story of the trifling douche nozzle and his skeezy twat and the fact that they’re now threatening to go after her kids in court. Me, in all my wisdom, told her to send the kids to her parents in another country for a vacation, pack up all his shiz, and have a bonfire with a few friends (it’s called therapy, and it’s free), then go scorched earth.

She doesn’t know if she should expose the twatwaffle or the piece of azz lint she’s married to, so I told her I’d take on that job. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last cocktail at dinner because alcohol tends to bring out my inner beast, and that bish was roaring for all she’s worth. Anywho, this poor child is on some victim shiz, and I’m not having it. You’re nobody’s victim. You’re a complete human being who just got run over by a train and survived. Heartache is a son of a demented bish, but there are ways to deal with it and not let it consume you. The problem is we want it gone now, but it takes time, one day at a time. Set up a timetable, imagine where you want yourself to be a day a week a year from now.

Document everything you hated about this shiftless piece of monkey excrement and read it over and over again. Laugh at the fact that he hasn’t given you an orgasm in ten years and that she’s now the one who has to put up with that fuckery. Remember how he eats with his mouth open or how he snores louder than Amtrak coming around the bend in the Rockies. Think about the fact that he never helps with his own kids and ask yourself if you can do better than that. Yes, dafuq, you can. Now you write down all his faults and remember them. When he’s standing in front of you with his gaslighting bullshit, laugh in his face, even if you’re dying inside, show him that you don’t care, see how fast he’d want to get back in your bed and life.

If you’re a stay-at-home mom, start looking for ways to take care of yourself, don’t worry about hurting him financially; the courts will take care of that. Find your support network, and don’t let your every conversation be about him and the side of sti. Have those conversations alone in the shower and let the water wash them away. When he comes to pick up the kids after separation, always be dressed your best like you’re going somewhere, even if you’re just going back inside to cry your eyes out. Make sure and pull out of your driveway right behind him as he leaves and go in the opposite direction. If there is someone in your past that he’s always been jealous of, an old friend that you have no romantic interest in, but he rubs the gremlin the wrong way, make sure to hit him up for a chat here and there and make sure the soon to be disposed of piece of alligator turd knows about it, sneakily of course.

Do not let your kids see you crying or sad; they pump the kids for information, so you don’t want them carrying back news of your depression. Don’t snub him, but only talk if it has to do with your kids. Whenever he’s in your vicinity, be on your phone, either texting or pretending to talk to someone. He knows you, so make it good, don’t let him see through your facade to your pain. These soulless ghouls live off of your pain; they suck the energy out of you. He’s already made his choice; now it’s time for you to make yours, I say choose you. But if you see that bish, run her over with your car. TWICE

Share This Post: