He wants to say goodbye!
WARNING: DUMBFUCK IN DENIAL – I didn’t make this coward’s bed of stolen valor, and if it’s lumpy, don’t t blame me.
Oh, that’s so cute! Though I will miss the deadly strains of Ssee you in court.” I never get tired of hearing that one.
This will make him, what? 0 for 6 combined against me and Grady? What is that word he likes to use?
Oh, I wish he wouldn’t tease me like that! He’ll be back and whinging before noon Saturday, and we all know it.
It’s a nice try, though, calling 16 months of getting his ass kicked a victory because he surrendered to prevent 17.
Two weeks – a promise as sacred as any I’ve ever seen him make. I could write a press release it would make him feel better. Or create a blog exclusively dedicated to leaving him alone. Every day, a post about something that has nothing to do with him. The possible topics are legion:
- Making a podcast that’s interesting.
- Spelling one’s name correctly in legal documents
- Personal jurisdiction
- Dying with dignity
- Wearing pants
- Dog wrangling without whining
- Minding your own business
The list goes on…
Ah, yes…the conceit that my objectives must be the same as his objectives. And the added conceit that he must be the only thing in my life that’s FUN.
As far as I’ve ever been able to tell, his objectives are an audience, respect, celebrity, a sense of power.
Mine is FUN. And there’s plenty of fun things out there to see, do, and write about. And I’ll be doing it long after he’s shriveled away and dumped in the Clockwork Urn. Or will Anyone even claim the ashes? Maybe someone will just dump them in a little mayo jar. Or maybe a descendant will take them, mix ’em up with a little twat slime and make paste.
One thing is certain – when I shrivel and die, I’ll do it with a lot more dignity than him. And he – yes, even he – will die with more dignity than he allowed his wife. That photograph. Disgusting. Morbid. It takes a truly diseased mind to shoot that picture. Multiply that fevered insanity by 10 and you might approach the mentality of a man who would email that photo to his worst enemy.
And the copyright the photo in an attempt to rectify his mistake. For Fuck’s Sake.
(As an aside…Operation DOWNFALL cost less than $35. I win.)
A man who would do that hates his enemy more than he loves his wife, I think.
I’m touched-truly touched-that he would burn seven tweets of his most impassioned apathy on someone as #irrelevant as your humble Head Zombie. I didn’t know until now how much he truly don’t care what I think or say. I’m gratified beyond words that he couldn’t be bothered to muster up the guts to say farewell.