My Insane Ex-wife
I don’t want to hold anything back in this blog. I want to be completely honest with you, my dear readers, so I figure I should write a little about my fucking crazy ex-wife.
First let’s start with how I met her. The first time I remember seeing her, she was bouncing up and down on my schlong in my bedroom. Yes, it’s true. The first time this chick was in my life as far as I can remember is when she had already mounted my pole. See, I’d gone out drinking, got a little wasted, and apparently, in the drunken stooper of which I have no memory, picked up this chick, brought her back to my place, and started bonin’ like mad. When I’m in the mood, I can bone multiple times per hour, and what I can gather is that we’d been bonin’ so long that I sobered up enough for my memory to come back online, and in that instant, she was pumpin’ up and down on my piston (that’s right: pumpin’ my piston).
After that, we just kinda started hanging out and stuff… and bonin’ a lot since she was pretty awesome at it. She was an artist… a bone artist. She was like a painter painting a beautiful landscape…. and then ridin’ a dick awesomely. She was like a ballet dancer dancing beautifully to “Swan Lake”… and then ridin’ a dong like a pro. She was like a singer pouring her heart out on stage with the most beautiful ballad… then going backstage and sitting on a big set of balls.
So anyway, I was going through kind of a slump in my sexual escapades for a little while (only bonin’ a few new chicks a week), so I decided what the fuck, I’m gonna try marriage, so I got her drunk, asked her, she said yes, and we were married the next morning.
Things went downhill fast though. I got bored with the sex after a few weeks, so I started bonin’ other chicks, and my wife caught me with three college co-eds in our bed on a few occasions (and once in the family room while she was supposed to be upstairs asleep). Also, she developed a gambling addiction to mahjong, and I neglected to tell her about a massive debt I was still paying off from my horse racing days. I also forgot to mention that I once did time for fondling an underage girl on the subway (she said she was 18, but how was I to know she was born in Korea and they count their age 1 year older than us?). There was also that time I punched her father in the nose for insinuating that I throw a football like a girl (I was throwing with my left hand, and who doesn’t look like a girl when throwing with their other hand?). So it was that and some other stuff (I think I accidentally caught part of her head on fire once and singed half her hair, but I’m not sure if that really happened or I was just drunk).
When we got divorced, everything was awesome. I was back to bonin’ college co-eds whenever I wanted, and I found that I had a new respect for the the little things in life–watching old people trip on the sidewalk, watching the look on a new-born infant’s face as I get down on his hot mommie, hearing the sound of my elderly neighbors doin’ it at 5am while watching “Matlock.”
But after a while, my ex-wife apparently couldn’t stand to be without the hard in Hard Brent, and she started coming around again and staying over some nights. So we got back to bonin’, and for a while it was cool ’cause, like I said, she was a bone master, but then she’d leave in the morning and I could get on with my day (my job as a vehicle safety inspector for Hertz Rent-a-car; a position which I took full advantage of by taking the higher-end cars home everyday and porkin’ chicks in them a lot). But after a while, she started talking about marriage again, and I was like, “Whatever, go get married on your own time. I’m busy.” I didn’t really know what that meant, but I remember saying it for some reason ’cause I thought it sounded really cool at the time.
Somewhere along the way, we’d had a couple kids, and I somehow got stuck with joint custody, so now I see them sometimes (not when I can avoid it; I think I’ve used the jury duty excuse like 9 times this year already). I did, however, get stuck with full custody of the cat my wife and kids bought, which you can read about in a previous amusing post.
So yeah, that’s my ex-wife. Oh, and she’s from Nicaragua or some shit. Can’t remember. Good at fuckin’, though. Real good. She also tried to run me over with my neighbor’s car once, but that’s a different story (the neighbor is Asian; doesn’t really matter, but I thought I’d just mention that).
I feel this has been a pretty good post, but not my strongest. I did, however, use phrases like, “I did, however…” a couple times, which makes it seem a little more educated. I also talked about good my wife is at ridin’ dong, which brings it back down from that overly-educated level so the reader doesn’t feel like I’m using grammar that’s over his head.