Today I woke up and had the craziest dream about my ex. You know the ones that you could swear actually happened. Yup one of those. Where you wake up sweating cuz you just saw your ex fuck his brains out with some small cute European girl. I think that you can go insane this way. I really do.

I was thinking that post coitus would have helped me on my way upward and onward past this feeling of complete rejection. However, last weekend’s fiasco and his prepubescent body only made me realize more that I still care about that lying sack of shit. That goatfucker that is prancing around Middle America with some gross blond clubby girl with fake nails and bad eye makeup. With her round breasts bursting from her $18.99 club outfit, ordering Tom Collins, “cuz the color looks great under the bar lights” It is truly not fair. Whereas, I end up eating a Philly Cheese Steak sandwich with some guy. Maybe boy. Who redefines the word megalomaniac. And his breath could have literally burnt a hole through the bar table.

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