Friday, February 10, 2006

Random Thoughts...

...and Thorough Bread Selections

I'm never gonna get laid again. Unless I buy a Porsche.

Don't laugh. I own Southern California Real Estate. I'm gonna get Absinthe rich off the sale, even though I'm only getting half. So I could buy a Porsche. Maybe with a little left over for pectoral implants.


We've lived in the house a couple months short of two years, so we can't list it until April to avoid cap gains taxes on the profit. At least ten more weeks of having to look at her every day. Good fuckin times.

I've never lived alone before. Always had mates or roommates. I'm both looking forward to it and worrying over those first few sleepless nights.

I got an e-mail yesterday that knocked me on my ass. Thanks, Larry. And you're welcome.


The whole poet thing makes perfect sense. The wife eats that shit up. Hell, when I was a' courtin' her, I ripped off some dashing verse (or dashed off some ripping verse). Sonnets, even. I continued to gut some out after we were married, too. But I'm not a very good poet. I'm too overt. My imagery is about as subtle as a punt to the nuts. And my vocabulary is too multi-syllabic. Meter is hard with words like "diaphanous." That said, I wrote two poems in a college writing course that are fucking masterpieces. A sawbuck gets you a signed copy.

If anyone out there is looking for a sure-fire diet plan, allow me to suggest hopeless sorrow. The only side effect is that you can't sleep, either.

On Valentine's Day, what do you get the wife who has everything, including a boyfriend?

I have decided to keep seeing the psychologist, minus the wife. I've never in my life felt the need for therapy and I don't know if I'll get any relief, but right now my mind is open to anything. Buddhism, Bokononism, The Moonies (hey, I could work for the Washington Times or UPI!)...whatever. I'll try anything to get over this as expeditiously as possible.


I used to have very long (and opinionated) hair. For about three week's after I cut it, I continued to play with it, tucking phantom strands behind my ear, etc. I've been doing the exact same thing with my departed wedding ring.

The wife recently won a big award at work, an "...Of The Year" type thing. Aside from the award itself, she also got a set of thick-stemmed martini/margarita glasses, which have been sitting on the kitchen counter. Every time I've spied them in the last 36 hours, I've had a primal urge to smash them to bits.

I'd like to thank everyone once more (and since I can't thank you guys enough, I reserve the right to do so again) for all the calls, comments and e-mails of support. I've felt incredibly alone lately, wrapped up in the tumult inside me, and your reaching out gave me something to grab onto yesterday. Such an amazing, compassionate and selfless group you are. I can only hope to one day re-pay your kindness.

Marble Rye.


At 10:28 AM, Blogger Joaquin "The Rooster" Ochoa said...


Seems like your humor is coming back a bit...and you know, what...break those fucken glasses (when AJ isn't around) and tell her that's what your heart looks know, for effect and all. Then you puts some wraps on the hands and roll your fist in the glass and fight the Fairy Poet to the death like Daniel Son. You are a strong man, Joe. If you want to come out to NYC I will help with the ticket to get you out of LA.

At 10:44 AM, Blogger Fat Dan said...

It took me the entire post to pick up on the bread theme. Man, I need to get some sleep.

Don't break the glasses. Instead fight for half of them in the divorce.

At 10:48 AM, Blogger Gene said...

"When I first gazed upon you in that blue gown diaphanous/
I immediately dug you like a turtle Galapagos"

Seriously, great poetry practically writes itself.

Don't break anything, for the simple reason that you'll have to clean it up. And that's a drag, believe me.

I still miss playing with my wedding ring. I fiddled with it like a chip trick, pulling it off with two fingers, twirling it, sticking it back on. It was a way to release nervous energy. Now I just masturbate.

At 11:03 AM, Blogger ScurvyDog said...

There's not a lot to say to make shit-filled situations like that any better, without them sounding trite or condescending or some form of annoying.

I will say that you're already handling it better than 99% of us would, if for no reason other than confronting it head-long and behing honest.

Breaking shit is fun but what's even more malicious is to really fuck her over royally by emerging from this a better, healthier, more focused, happier person.

At 11:12 AM, Blogger Mr. Friendly said...

If you break the glasses, you must do so in a manner that will divert blame. Not because you are afeard of the repercussions, but because she will always be wondering "Did that fugger have anything to do with this?"

Trust me. Shifting the weight in the box, moving the box to the edge of the counter may be enough for the deed.

If both you and the wife are present during the "accident," just shrug and say "Must be karma."

The cool kids eat crusty bread.

At 11:14 AM, Blogger Mr. Friendly said...

Almost forgot...

Have you considered fugging with her credit cards yet?

At 11:35 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

The evil snark in me thinks that a copy of 'A Farewell To Arms' would be nice. Maybe that and a box of Valtrex.

Don't be so hard on yourself Speaker, all the other blog-guys say that you are a beautiful man.

Take care.

At 12:32 PM, Blogger Easycure said...

Mr. Speaker:

Start hiding the poker money RIGHT NOW, sir.

Other than that, I have little (good) advice for ya.

Hug that boy for us all. He's got more aunt's and uncle's than he realizes.

Keep us in the loop and thanks!

Uncle Easycure

At 1:12 PM, Anonymous Maudie said...

if you will forgive the weighing in of a 'female' ...

1. I'm with Mr. Friendly - nudge those frackin' glasses right off the counter - oops, aw geeez, look they broke....!!!

2. And, yeah, AJ's got an extended family of aunties and uncle-ies... count me amoung them.

3. I'm partial to rye.... with a side of wit.

At 1:40 PM, Blogger Felicia :) said...

Kudos for you for being so mature about this situation.

After extensive therapy and when you're ready to date again, I believe the toothless crackwhore on the LV bus is still available.

At 2:20 PM, Blogger Bloody P said...

Not to be crude, but wouldn't it be better to drink about 15 beers, eat plate of asparagus, pee in a bucket and then dip the rim of each martini glass into it?

Just a thought.

At 2:51 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

"and thorough bread selections"

Funniest thing I've seen in a long, long time.

I don't usually laugh out loud at anything other than my own stupid wit, but that beginning forced a laugh out that I just couldn't stop.

Then reading thru the comments people left has me already in a good mood for the weekend.

You got the number if you need it.

At 3:12 PM, Anonymous Russ Fox said...

On a somewhat serious note, you may want to list your home for sale now. The capital gains exclusion is based on the closing dates (sell & buy). Given that a typical house can take 60 days to close, you might want to revisit this.

Additionally, there are provisions for a pro-rated exclusion if there are certain extenuating circumstances. Any competent tax professional can help you with determining whether this applies in your case (it likely does).

-- Russ Fox

At 3:56 PM, Blogger One_Outer said...

First Things You Have to do When You're About to Get Divorced and Your Wife is an Evil She Beast

(from personal experience)

1. Cancel all her credit cards. When my wife left me and filed she immediately began running up huge credit card debts. That was over a yeat ago and I'm still $6000 in the hole on that. Evil, pure evil.

2. Hide the poker money. After running up that credit card debt my evil she beast was able to get her hands on half of my bankroll in the divorce. Then I had to start using what was remaining of said bankroll to pay off her credit card debt that the court in it's infinite wisdom left me completely.

3. Break the glasses. You'll feel better.

At 4:22 PM, Blogger Mr Subliminal said...

I feel like a real turd when I say this, but I've been dating that toothless LV crackwhore, so you'll have to look elsewhere. Sorry, man.

At 7:24 PM, Anonymous Katkin said...

Speaker -

Sorry I haven't dropped you a note earlier. I won't waste your time with all of the same platitudes you've heard over and over... What's happened sucks, plain and simple.

I'm really sorry for you and know you'll come out the other side. Until then, we'll keep your chair waiting at Murderer's Row.


At 2:52 PM, Blogger Luke said...

I found this via Shane, although I'm a new reader, I was empathetic to your pain. The fact that I'm a child of divorce underscores my understanding how you're concerned for your son.

The best advice? Cauterize that shit. I admire you for trying to bring her back into the fold, but when people make up their mind that they aren't in a relationship any longer, it's extraordinarily difficult to make them change their mind.

Make your son the focus of your life in a very overt manner. Do things with him as if she was no longer around. If she expects you home for dinner, make sure you have a picnic with your son at the park.

Take the day off and go to the zoo with him or better yet, do something that maybe you all did as a family, but only with you two...just to show her that you're moving on. Be gone with him the entire weekend on a planned trip. Tell her in a way to say, "Look, I know you're going to jump at the chance to fuck him, and I don't care. I'm the responsible parent now and you're the one lusting after some beatnik's glo-stick."

I'm not saying to use your son as a bargaining chip, no. Don't dangle him out there as a piece of prime property you two are going to fight about with the $300-an hour pin-stripped warriors but rather show her that the days of you pleading with her, crying over her, begging her are done.

At 4:23 PM, Anonymous Tiffany said...

This may not make sense to many and at this time it certainly won't make sense to you but you know what? One day you're going to thank her. Honestly! My husband was married to a "oh so wonderful" woman who cheated on him and then left him for the other man. He was devastated of course, wore his ring for 6 months after she left. He met me just shy of a year later and then about a year and 1/2 into our relationship, she appeared again telling him hind sight was 20/20, etc... Do you know what he did? He thanked her for leaving him. She was shocked needless to say but asked "why"? He told her he was engaged to a wonderful woman who made him happier than he'd ever been in his life and that he'd of never met me had he of stayed in their dead-end marriage of who can hurt whom the most. She wasn't too thrilled by this but the point is, someday you will meet someone who loves you enough to take the time to understand you. Someone who understands you have flaws and loves you regardless and most importantly, someone who won't leave you when the going gets tough.

I don't know you Joe but I do know this, when one door closes, another one opens. Hang in there long enough for your new door to open and you'll be fine.

At 10:27 AM, Blogger Veneno said...

I'm betting you will get laid again. You are in So. Calif. afterall. Any takers?

And I don't think it has to be a toothless woman either. In fact, I know a woman who keeps eyeing my husband. She sorta cute, if you like the desperate, flirty, boob-flashing, blond type.

Joe, it will get better.

**big hug**

At 9:36 PM, Anonymous sandra said...

Hey, Joe. Found you through Shane's site and wanted to send my best your way. My mom went through something pretty similar a few years ago (dad left) and it kind of breaks my heart to read about the same thing happening to someone else. Alarming how identical the stories are, actually -- although me and my brother were both long out of the house by that point, so we were privy to more of what actually went on (as in, were told more than a little kid would be) -- and I've never been sure whether that's better or worse.

Anyway, all the best -- and good thoughts for AJ.

And you're right -- Michael is a shite poet. Dammit.

At 11:31 AM, Blogger Drizztdj said...

Being a former credit collector... get rid of all joint credit accounts now now now (I know it was said in the above comments).

And allow me to treat you to another pretzel at the next WPBT live event if we don't meet up before then. :)

At 1:41 PM, Blogger StB said...

Call me immature but those glasses would have been shattered. Pop on Break Stuff by the bizkit and go nuts!

Then when she asks just look at her and say "uh..sorry?".

At 10:23 PM, Blogger Whaaaaa? said...

All you need to know about Buddhism right now: Impermanence.

Best summed up in the phrase: "This too shall pass."

The pain, the bile rising in the throat, it will pass. Plus, that bitch doesn't have all of us for support, just some asshole who screws around with OPP. Gee, think he'll do it again, with someone besides her?

Oh, and fuck Valentine's Day. Invented to profit a place I'll be doing some work soon, Hallmark.


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