Thursday, March 22, 2012

Dear JB (warning: stronger language than usual)

WARNING: I am in a terribly rotten mood because of certain issues that have been going on lately and am severely stressed to a point of breaking out in hives. I promise I'll get back to my satirical, witty blogs in a bit (probably after this weekend is over) but I promised myself I wasn't going to lie and I won't. I haven't been happy lately, I've been exhausted and angry, and frustrated. I've been a little more than grumpy and I'm really tired of dealing with humanity.

That's not a cry of suicide - it's a cry of "I want to be a hermit so please leave me alone"...I'm sorry to everyone who has had to deal with me but FB today was the final straw of grumpyness. Apparently, when I type in the word '*****' (name, not curse word), my ex's photo pops up with his new girlfriend because her name is the same as my moms. So because of all this, here's a letter that will never get sent to him because after this, I'm going to bed and forgetting he ever existed in my life.



Dear JB,

I wish that I could tell you,
I moved on with my life,
Sadly, I cannot do that,
Because legally I'm still your wife.

I saw a picture of your girlfriend,
She looks way too good for you...
But maybe she's more your type than I,
And you won't cheat on her too.

So I'm going to say something,
I really haven't said before,
I really hate your mother,
And Stephanie, the whore.

Your mother is a weenie,
A nasty, cruel and evil sort,
Sometimes I really do wonder,
If she maybe should have considered abort...ehh n/m - you did take care of the cats well....

Your siblings are about the same,
For them I have no time,
We weren't friends, I'm good with that,
Because all they did was whine.

And then there's you...you darlin' boy,
I guess I never told,
But getting cheated on with that worthless (Crap I can't use that word...mom reads this)
Got extremely old.

And so I ditched you to the curb,
And now I'm here you see...
I have a 3.5 GPA
And you work for your daddy.

I am in year 3 of an honours degree,
You drive a golf cart around...(drown rhymes with around new line, no widow here).

I'm in year 3 of honours,
And you're just getting stupid,
But somehow you attracted something..cough one.
You must have kidnapped Cupid.

Because goodness knows you're useless,
I believe it's in the genes.
But I'm so much better without you,
And now I'm peachy keen.

Thank you for reading my poem,
These past 3 years have been grand,
Because I've moved on to BIGGER and BETTER things...(like school and homework and being on TV, and being in honours history, and having a cool job and going to Ottawa and stuff like that, okay mom? I love you and will put you in a nice retirement home someday with a pool boy!),
And you're still a worthless excuse of a man.

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