Last to the party …

As always. I’m the last to the party but usually the last one to leave too.  Life’s been a rockin’ ass roller coaster for me the last bajillion years a.k.a. few months.  I love like a mother fucker, live like a rock star, but rock out the domestic thing despite my counterparts’ claims about there being nothing domestic about me.

A sudden separation turned to a long-term disappointment and then back around to a laugh my ass off opportunity today as my soon-to-be-ex announced that his mistress was leaving him to go back to her husband.  Ouch.

As my evening progressed, his desperation became more and more apparent via text – which is something that I have to give him props for – because I’m a firm believer there should be specific fonts for sarcasm, desperation, and begging.

I have to stop and reflect back briefly on my last few months, which trust me, I will go into depth with later.  Husband leaves.  Heart is broken.  County cop comes to the rescue … not so much of my heart as my sobbing vagina who was missing all the attention she was used to.  Cop was a bit of a disappointment in the bed but come on, a man in uniform + cuffs + power trip = lots of fun!



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