My Ex-wife

I'm sure this isn't anything original, but hell I feel like talking about the old battleaxe. I realized that I was the one that said "I do" (not sure if it was a moment of weakness or if I was just recovering from a very hard night of drinking), but this woman caused me more pain in my life than all of the punishments meted out by my parents combined. But you know what, she got hers in the end. Not only did she end up cheating on me with a guy that ended up treating her 100 times worse than she treated me, but she also tried to shoot his Percocet-popping, dope-smoking, rolly-polly ass as well, and then ended up getting 18 months probation for a reckless endangerment charge which eventually got her sorry behind deported back to her native country of Panama. So, despite all the crap that she put me through, I believe I got the better end of the deal. Sometimes when I get down and think that life is dealing me a bum rap, all I have to do is look over my fireplace in my two-bedroom apartment and see the crowning achievement of my short life: my framed divorce decree. That's right, I didn't stutter. I was originally thinking of hanging it over the head of my bed, but I thought that would be just a tad on the tacky side (but it would have been a helluva fail-safe measure). When I talk about her to folks, I don't even refer to her by her name (nope, not going to be held responsilbe for ruining your vocabulary by giving it to you)...I now and forever more refer to her as the Succubus (got the idea from a South Park episode, actually). It's so fitting as she tried to suck the life out of me, but she didn't have the proper tools to get it done, because I'm still living, breathing, and standing tall and there's not a whole helluva lot she can do about it from where she's at.
So, to her, I'll raise my beer bottle, give her a big "Up Yours" and take a nice soothing gulp of the hops and barley. That's all for now. I'm out.