*Edited January 26 to delete all comments and disallow future ones. Some of you people are is serious need of mental help.*
Hiya, haters! How y’all doin’? Didja get out of your mom’s basement today? No? Well don’t worry, there’s always tomorrow.
OK, seriously guys, I have to ask.
What is your obsession with me?
I just came to check my blog for an old post, and I saw my most recent entry had 63 comments. Last I checked, there were about a dozen, and since few were very flattering, I’m going to go ahead and assume that not a lot of these are either.
I know you’re shocked, but I don’t actually sit around and wait for comments to appear.
Should I be scared? Many of you seem to be very into freaky sex, and under some sort of impression that I’m dying to have it with you. Honestly, even if I wanted to do it with you guys, yours dicks are probably so small I wouldn’t be able to find them. Sorry not sorry.
But really, what is the freaking deal?
Not all of you think I’m slutty — some of you just think I’m a crappy mom. Others of you think I was a crappy wife.
I was pretty awesome at both, actually. Now gardening, well, I suck at gardening. Perhaps that’s what you meant to say. I can see how it’s easy to confuse the two. I mean, if I can’t keep a geranium alive, how could I possibly care for children?
But even Leif thinks I was an AWESOME wife — and more than that, he wishes y’all would stop with this nonsense.
Side note to Leif’s future girlfriend/wife: He HAS acknowledged that he was not great husband to me, and he HAS promised to do better. There’s just too much water under the bridge at this point for me to continue. Best of luck to you, and I hope we can be friendly at least.
My tagline remains true. God. Family. Politics. Wine. (In that order)
Leif and I will always be family, even if it’s not in the way I imagined it, because we share two gorgeous daughters. There’s no getting around that.
It’s because of those girls, and out of respect for the nearly eleven years we were married, that I’m not telling you what went down on the other side of the proverbial closed door.
So you, Men of the Tiny Dicks, are out of line in making judgment calls about Leif or me. And frankly, your strange foaming-at-the-mouth compulsion to leave very nasty comments on my blog speaks more about you than me.
I’m really sorry for whatever nameless, faceless bitch rejected you and your acrimonious attitudes, but I am not the poster child for everything that’s wrong in your life.
But I guess I’d be pretty pissed too if I had nothing better to do than sit around and monitor the comments section of some random chick’s blog.