I Want a Divorce


Honestly. Sometimes I think you only married me for the free airfare.

I'm glad you love traveling. I love traveling. I wouldn't have gotten my pilot's license if I didn't. And I'm thrilled that you want to come with me on all my flights, even the long boring ones. But do we have to tour the halfway houses and mental institutions of every city? I don't know what you see in them, particularly since you never seem to get past the front desk. I was pretty embarrassed the first time you asked to see the holder of something or other, even more embarrassed when they had to call security to get you to leave.

Don't act like you don't remember! They got four men to haul you away, kicking and screaming, while I followed behind apologizing for you! And then, when you'd finally calmed down you had the gall to yell at me for "getting in the way" and "distracting you." You invited me along, and I don't care if you only did it because I wanted to be involved in your hobbies. Oh yes, you remember now, don't you? Maybe you also remember why I stopped coming.

Oh, and the time I convinced you to go out clubbing with me instead, that was rich. You slumped against the wall like a sullen teenager at prom and then went over to bother the DJ. And I'm sorry that he didn't have anything by your favorite singer, but there was no reason to cause a scene. I mean, I've never even heard of The Holder of Repose. What is he, some kind of rapper? I'm sick of you ruining our nights out and driving away all our friends. Even Daniel got tired of your bullshit, and he's been your friend since high school. And stop stroking that cat and telling me Daniel's still with us, because you look like an idiot doing it.

Stop crying. I'm not going to talk to you if you'll just cry and make a fuss.

No, this is not about sex. I don't care about your accident, though I wish you'd tell me the truth about how it happened. (I absolutely refuse to believe that a monk would do something like that, regardless of what you'd said to him.)

Though since you bring it up, I was never a fan of the way you made me call you "Seeker" and put up all those puzzles on the way to the bedroom. I wish I'd known how kinky you were when we started dating. Calling me the "Holder of Poontang" was just crude. And I wasn't exactly amused when you called me "Salmacis," either. I won't ask if you're having an affair with this Salmacis woman. There are frankly some things I just don't want to know.

Lord knows I've tried to make this marriage work, but my patience has run dry. You heard me, my patience has--what? Jim? You mean Jim who runs the auto parts store down the block? What does he have to do with this? God, I can't even talk to you anymore! I've brought the divorce papers, and I want you to sign them. Yes, today. The sooner the better.

You will? Good. Let's get this over with--thank you. I'll add my signature and---

Damn, the ink's gone dry. Can I borrow your pen?

Categories: | Parodies |

Last modified on 2009-07-16 10:40:23Average Rating: 5 / 5 (1 votes)Viewed 8052 times

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