Yeah, I think I finally have that 600 lb. gorilla, Lisa, off my back.  And from the looks of things, it won’t be long before she reaches 600 lbs. if she keeps on the way she’s going.  OK, yeah, that was a cheap shot, but humor me.  She looks terrible and has gained a lot of weight – and she was dangerously overweight when we split more than a year ago.  Diabetes is prevalent in her family and you would think she would try harder to do everything she can to stave off that wolf.  While we were together I tried to make sure her diet wasn’t full of sugar and other crap for this very reason.  Selfish, really, I wanted her around for a long time.  But, perhaps deep inside she has a bit of self-loathing going on in there.  Who knows? Who cares, really?

Not me.

 

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This is all of her shit that I got around this past weekend.  Those boxes that are closed and sealed remained that way for the 13 years that Lisa lived with me.  The rest of the stuff, well, as I came across things, I tossed them into boxes.  I got tired of doing the right thing all along, so I didn’t take a lot of care with the packing.  Lamps in with tools and steering wheels and other assorted shit.

My girlfriend came over, as well as another friend in order to ensure that tempers stayed, well, tempered.

And what did she take issue with?  A fucking umbrella.  That golf umbrella laying across the top of the box on the left.  She held it up, like some sort of prize and announced “This isn’t mine!”  I said “I’m pretty sure you came here with that.”  “No, this is something that WE bought TOGETHER” was her nasty reply.  “Lisa, leave it, take it, I don’t care” is what I said.  My girlfriend and I looked at each other with looks that said “Seriously? An umbrella?”

All I need now is that final divorce in my hands.  Once that happens, I’m changing my phone number and blocking her from my email addresses and I’m not going to look back.  If I find any more of her shit in the house, I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with it, but most likely I will either sell it or toss it to the curb, depending on what it is.

 

It’s just a matter of time before Lisa’s “love of her life” cheats on her and leaves her tossed on the side of the road like she did her husband, her son, her daughter, her wife, her stepkids and everyone else in her life that she ever professed to “love.”

Karma’s a bitch, Lisa.  And I hope that karma train rolls right over your fat ass.

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