I loved him.
He pretended to be a stand-up guy who had been wronged. So many tales of whoa . . .
Then he had an affair with his employee, paid via misappropriation of federal grant money and state travel funds. Meet your new Dr. Dean of Executive Education. . .
Funny… a former coworker he couldn’t STAND – I mean he hated the guy – (yet he asked him to be a reference after he got shit-canned. . .pompous, arrogant and a womanizer ? Sound familiar? ) just published a book on corporate corruption. . .
He told her he couldn’t wait to fuck her.
“I have never felt so open in my life!”
Then he came to bed with me.
In our house. Whispering in my ear that I am the love of his life. . .
Lies. Abuse. Mistreater. Manipulator. A bad bad bad BAD motherfucker.
So much that you will never know…
I believed him.
I believed in him.
He fucking begged me to – and also to never leave him.
Now, he’s all Mr. Dr. New Family and world traveler.
“Please Ri. . .I love you so much baby! I don’t know where I’d be without you! I don’t even want to think about it!”
You’ll be living in Rego Park with your Russian slut eerrr partner acting like you are a class act who never fucked anyone over.
You’ll have a job career move (albeit backwards: “I will never go back to being a dean after being a vice provost. Do you not understand anything about the academia career path Ria? That would be career suicide! God you’re fucking ignorant!”) w/a new endeavour in SoHo, because, that’s just fucking perfect for the man who thought “New York City” meant Times Square, Home of The Yankees and The Top of the Rock until someone broadened his horizons . . .
You’ll say you love the city that you couldn’t wait to escape, only because your kids, sisters (your bestie Dave?) and nephews think it’s cool (I’m betting you love Coney Island because it reminds so much of growing up in your beloved Hampton Beach . . .your favorite: New Hampshire and all the warm, fuzzy memories . . .) and your dick warmer allowed you to move in with her after what? 3 months? 4? Depends on how long you were fucking both of us . . .
“Look at those high rises . . .one after the next. How do people live like that?”
Because the whore they’ve been banging lives there, paid for – Daddy? Army enforced alimony? – and they can just slide right in (har har) and pretend they didn’t cause any damage nor destruction along the way. Because it’s self-serving and convenient. Because it means they can move seamlessly onto the next years of their life plan. Because they can forget the former lives they’ve ruined and be the smiling public man for a whole new audience. Because they have no sense of guilt, remorse or responsibility. Because they will say or do anything to get you to trust them whilst they are plotting their next move. Because they are cold, heartless and well, just shitty.
News flash . . .you did. You fucking * thought about it*, alright.
You fucked me over after swearing on your life you never could/would.
“I am my words!
They were only words!
I never said anything I didn’t mean!
I know you don’t like it but I am my words!”
Really dude? Which is it? Seriously.
– Enter the Debate Team captain –
What the fuck?
Dancing and backpedaling . . .you could run for office with that finesse…
Half Irish, half Polish. But let’s only focus on and emphasize the Irish part, because that’s way cooler.
Altho. . .what about while your hanging with your Scottish and British coworkers? Are you able to hide your inherent disdain?
Have you grown tolerant of lifestyle and cultural diversity?
I may not have a PhD, but I know doubletalk when I hear it.
Career suicide turned into mine, you asshole. All so you could fuck your young dream of a Russian princess. I’m betting other than “co-principal”, she doesn’t even have a job. Or maybe you’re paying for her PhD?
She’s beautiful, intellectual, fun and young. . .who cares what she does?
No one like her ever paid any attention to you before! How aroused, intrigued and flattered you are! How could anyone so wonderful ever like you?
You ridiculed me because I didn’t trust you. “I will never hurt you, baby. Why don’t you trust me? I could kill your ex husband for cheating on you. You don’t deserve that! You need to believe me.”
You got annoyed because I was cautious.
You told me it made you feel wronged and degraded.
You wanna know about wronged and degraded? Read your fucking emails Viktoriaapg… Jesus. Fucking. Christ . . .
So, yeah . . .
I gave you everything you begged me for and then some. . .
Only to have you stick your fingers/tongue/dick in another woman’s pussy, while I waited like a Goddamn fucking idiot at home for you.
“Show some respect!” you screamed at me.
“I could never live without you baby! You are thE most important part of my life! ”
enter snark (remember I taught you that word? ) “You still carry around that prayer card from your mother’s wake?” snort
SOME OF US actually love our moms.
Some of us have real relationships with them. Some of us include them in our lives and vice versa. Some of us are close and didn’t run away because it was easier to not deal with our issues. Some of us didn’t move away and then cry sibling favoritism. Some of us knew to send/give holiday cards and presents and especially Mother’s Day gifts because we wanted to and we were brought up properly. Some of us respect our mothers and enjoy their presence.
So, yeah . . .I still carry my prayer card for me Irish mum, arsehole.
What was that again Bob? I am never going to get rid of you? No one could ever be better than me? You can’t possibly live without me.
We are going to grow old together and be the best grandparents ever? We are going to retire to the coast of Spain and live happily ever after?
Right . . .
Eat shit and die motherfucker.