Amazingly, those evil 'ho's who have destroyed my faith in humanity, love, and everything else still find reason to live after their brief brush with greatness (i.e., me). I suspect that the fact that they know that the greatest moment of their lives has long past them by explains their return to the the mediocrity from whence they came.
But I'm not bitter.
This has actually been a pretty revealing month for info on my previous evil ex's. I shall start in reverse chronological order.
Let's start with the most recent, my nutty backstabbing psuedo-ex, whom I left in Memphis with the deceitful, backstabbing, self-centered, sour-milk-smelling lardass she picked over me. I found out that she and Mr. Puffball had been canned by my erstwhile employer and have fled back to PA. According to my informant, she and the Great White Stinky Whale are no longer together, either. HA! I suspect, though, that she has returned to her home in PhilaHELLPhia, which displeases me mightily. Fatboy has also probably returned to Altoona, which is also pretty close to me. I stated my apprehension of running into him to my informant. He noted that Pennsylvania was a pretty big state. I pointed out that cellulite-boy was a pretty bug guy. There was much laughter.
Then there is my Ex-Girlfriend-Turned-Evil-Backstabbing-'Ho. She is still with the guy who she hooked up with after he screwed her then-boyfriend, who she picked up after she dumped the father of her child, the high school dropout petty criminal drug-abusing bastard she ditched ME for. The only real news there is that now she knows I'm a stone's throw from her. My spy informed on me. She supposedly said that my spy could give me her number. Although I am curious to see the depths to which she's sunk first hand and still want some closure, I don't want it THAT bad.
My Schizo-ex still lives in Boston and is apparantly running some two-bit marketing operation trying to manage third-rate bands. She always imagined herself as an afficianado of the music industry. I count this delusion as more evidence of her clear schizophrenia.
Finally, my psycho-ex, the chick who was the first and least deserving to have the title of "girlfriend" and the only one who never screwed me over...well, I don't have any news on her, but I can exrapolate that she's still living in New Castle and probably pregnant by some loser.
My mom's getting the second wind from her biological clock and nagging us for grandkids already. I tell her that she'll have to depend on Beavis, who at least has a girlfriend...with my help, of course.
I shall never score.
