I am a Cymbalta commercial.

June 26, 2008

Are you sad?

Do you feel lonely?

Yes.  Yes and yes and yes yes yesyesyes.

I’m sorry that my foray into blogdom has been just so damned depressing to read.  Hell, I don’t even want to read it, and it’s mine, and usually I have a sick fascination with the crap I create – like some sort of egomaniacal self-obsessed festival of pride in self.  But you know what?  Ain’t proud.  Ain’t too proud to beg, either, for your indulgence in one more sad-news depression post.

Someone I love, very much, is having her heart broken.  No, that’s not quite right.  She’s had her heart broken, piece by piece, for twenty years, and the last little bits have now cracked off and she can barely tell you about it.  And it sucks.

Today, I got so mad about the whole situation – her shitty husband being ultimate shitty shitty shitterson, that is – that I wanted nothing more than to have the go-ahead to go punch him in the throat.  That’s right, I’ve moved up from the level of anger where I wanted to blowdartgun him in the neck and kick him in the junk a bunch of times.  I want him to feel like he can’t breathe for a minute.  GOD IN FACT I am so mad about the way he’s treated his faultless, generous, kind wife that I am posting things on my blog that are really terrible and require a disclaimer:

Dear everyone, especially the police, there is absolutely no way in the entire world that I will ever have the guts to do something like go to this guy’s house and punch him in the throat.  And if I tried, you can be damn well certain he would stop me because he’s fucking HUGE and fucking SCARY and I am really just not all that big or gutsy.  So I will be glad to testify to the deservedness of this man’s throat-punch, should it ever occur, but I am telling you right now that I didn’t do it.  I don’t even know that I could reach his throat for an effective punch, anyhow, and I’m sure forensic science will be able to prove that if and/or when I’m suspected of the assault and this blog post doesn’t count as evidence of an effective disclaimer (which, according to my law class… no, it doesn’t).  I would have to, like, knee him in the balls first to get his throat within effective punching range.  Which he would also deserve.  But again: not brave enough for that shit.  Plenty rageful, but not brave.  Or strong.  Or willing to endure the subsequent lawsuit and bear the related costs.  So, it seems this stupid, stupid man will remain un-punched in the throat.  Even though he deserves it.  FUCKER.

Okay, so we’ve gone from sad to mad!  That’s good, I can work with mad.  Sort of invalidates my post title, however. What drug can I shill for calming the rage?

-mym

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