Every now and again, you’ll hear a woman say, “The word ‘bitch’ should be removed from the English language!”  Sometimes I agree, but now and again, you find these incredible witches with capital “B”’s who underscore the necessity of the word. 
     “Dorothy” (we’ll call her for the purpose of keeping her privacy) is one of those.  More than just witchlike, she was a psycho who couldn’t understand normal thinking.  On second thought, even the c-word might be too tame…

     We met in a bar several years ago.  It was just after midnight, and we’d been having a great conversation.  She was from a state that I used to live in, and we spent quite a while reminiscing the old days.  Old hangouts, old friends (a few of whom we knew in common), old cars and old girlfriends, husbands and wives.
     Eventually, she invited me back to her place to “hang out” for a while.  I went, mind you, but made my motives pretty clear — “Listen, you’re drunk.  I’m not gonna take advantage of that.  You might say it’s not taking advantage, but let’s not do something either of us might regret.  Okay?”
     I’m good like that.  I don’t send mixed signals.

     Unfortunately, once we got back to her place, she was no longer the semi-sober woman she was in the bar and car ride home.  

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     Really sucks when a marriage is over. Sometimes you get hit with a sucker-punch wondering what happened, in which case, you probably weren’t paying attention.  Other times, it’s over.  Done.  Kaput.  Finito.  No mas.
     What really sucks is when it’s over a damn long time, and you both just keep hanging on for convenience.  Eventually, you have to ask yourselves what the convenience is for: Sex?  Kids?  Money?  Stability?  Sanity?

     If you have none of those, or only a portion, then you really have to ask: what in the world are you holding onto?

     I haven’t written lately, because when you’re tossing molotovs with someone, it’s much better to keep it private than risk dropping flames on everyone between you.  Divorce tends to be vitriolic enough without waxing poetic in public.
     Besides … the web is already full of shit.  I’d rather just pass along stuff like this as toilet paper.