Marriage/Divorce

 

Marriage/Divorce

      I am a non-recently divorced man. A neurotic, balding, unattractive, middle-aged man is divorced—Wow, is anyone surprised?  (I guess that’s what I get for marrying a family member!  I am originally from the South Carolina low-country, remember?  South Carolina—where the official state tee-shirt is a dirty wife-beater. From where I came from, family reunions were a place to meet girls who also had low standards!)  But I am divorced.  Everyone says that his/her ex–spouse was nuts or was crazy.  Well, mine actually have the official papers to prove it.  In fact, one of them probably has a champion’s pedigree in crazy!  My divorces irritate me, but not in the way that one might think.  I remember when I was in the process of going through with my divorces, everyone kept saying to me, “You’re much better off now.  It’s over! You’re finally done with her!  You’re finished with her!”  And I actually started to believe that statement.  However, nothing could be further from the truth!  I will, unfortunately, never be done with my ex-wives.  I can never be finished with them.  No, that doesn’t mean that I am still in love with them and I hope that, somehow, we’ll find a way to get back together because I’m a hopeless romantic.  Ha!  When I say that they’ll never be out of my life, I mean that I have now become what the television stations, the newspapers, and the police profilers have labeled as “a disgruntled ex-husband.”  I am really not “disgruntled” towards my ex-wives.  I no longer hold any animosity toward them anymore. (It may have taken about a decade or so of serious drinking and serious therapy, but I am over them.)  But now the problem is, if one of my ex-wives is giving a blow-job to some crack head under a highway overpass and gets run over by a truck, guess whose tire tracks the police will come to check out first?  If one of my ex-wives overdoses on heroin while screwing some homeless person for loose change in a back alley somewhere, whose silverware pattern will the police come to check to see if the spoons match?  Yep, you got it—me—the good old disgruntled ex-husband!  As a “disgruntled ex-husband,” I suddenly become a “person of interest” in any crime involving any of my ex-wives. Every time that a woman is beaten, killed, dies, or disappears, who is the prime suspect?  Who is the first person the police question?  Whom does the media immediately accuse?  Who is the one who everyone knows did it?  Yes sir—good old disgruntled ex-husband.  Talk about your ultimate form of profiling!  I am now the number one suspect if anything ever happens to my ex-wives now or twenty years from now.  The other day while watching the news, a story came on about a woman’s body being found.  My first thought was, “The husband or ex-husband better have a good alibi!”  If something actually happened to my ex-wives, now that I have been divorced for over ten years, I would like to think that there are other prime suspects, besides myself, the disgruntled ex-husband.  Because of this, my ex-wives will never really be totally out of my life.  I always have to have a provable alibi for every minute for every day for the rest of my life.  My alibi for my whereabouts can never just be, “On the first of August at 10:05 P. M., I was at home alone sitting in my underwear eating Chee-tos and watching cartoons on television.”  I now have to take notes to prove that I actually was watching cartoons.  I have to document, “On the tenth of October at 10:05 P.M., Elmer Fudd shot Daffy Duck.  At 10:06 P. M. Bugs Bunny said to Daffy Duck, ‘Duck Season’ to which Daffy replied, ‘Wabbit Season’…”  I now have to take freaking notes like I was in a class!  I also have to save the receipt for the Chee-tos.  In some ways, it is even worse than being married.  If my ex-wives didn’t believe me or thought that I was lying to them when we were married, I got yelled at and cut off from sex.  As every married man in the world can tell you, you get used to that punishment.  (My wives and I used to have what I called Olympic sex—not that it was world class, but that it happened once every four years, if I was lucky! Or we would have what I called “Possum-style” sex—she would lie still like she was dead until I left or it was over.)  But now if the police don’t believe me, I don’t get cut off from sex, I gain sex with my new cell-mate, Bubba.  So, whenever I speak to my ex-wives now, I always tell them to be careful, to eat right, to exercise, and to please take care of themselves.  I really mean that, too.  I can honestly say that I want them to live a long, long life.  I honestly want them to outlive me.  I am not really concerned for their well-being; I just don’t want to have to be questioned by the police or the local news.  If I outlive them, I will eventually have to answer questions regarding my whereabouts at the time of their death—no matter where I was and no matter how they died.   If they outlive me, I’m hoping that they will be the ones who will have to answer to the police.  I can imagine that they certainly have enough reasons to want to see me die a slow, painful death.  However, thanks to sexism, the “disgruntled ex-wife” is usually not as much of a suspect as the “disgruntled ex-husband.”  Go figure.  If an ex-husband turns up dead, the ex-wife is not always considered the number one suspect.  If I end up dead, nobody is going to suspect my long-ago divorced ex-wives.  No one would be suspicious of them, unless someone noticed the woman at my funeral with an extraordinarily large smile on her face!  (Of course, you would also probably notice the smiles on the faces of all my ex-girlfriends who showed up to spit on or piss on me and my grave!)

      I mean, while being married, I can understand wanting your spouse dead or, at the very least, wanting your spouse to disappear for a while. I think that everyone who has ever been married can understand, at some point, wanting your spouse to disappear off the face of the earth for a period of time, or at the very least, wanting aliens to come down and abduct your spouse.  I think most married people can relate to that statement.  (I mean, I never really understood hunters and hunting until I was married.  Then I began to understand and appreciate the powerful urge to want to kill!)  No, I am not suggesting going out and killing your spouse, but it would be much nicer and easier if he/she suddenly dropped dead.  For numerous reasons death is so much easier than divorce for everyone involved.  Think about it.  First, death is actually much cheaper than divorce.  (Luckily lawyers haven’t yet figured out a way to represent deceased people by suing individual diseases.  But you can bet that as soon as they figure out a way to sue the Grim Reaper, they will.)  Second, death is much easier on your family and friends—they don’t have to choose sides like they do when you are going through a divorce.  It is also much easier to explain that your spouse died as opposed to explaining why you are getting a divorce.  Also, with death, you won’t have to answer a lot of nosey busy-body’s questions as to what happened and why. Next, with death, you wouldn’t lose your house, half your bank account, half your baseball card collection and your manhood!  With death, one also goes from being a “bitter, disgruntled ex-husband” to a “poor widower.”  The sympathy factor is much greater.  (The sympathy sex from friends and strangers is always good, too!)  I really prefer “poor widower” to “disgruntled ex-husband.”

 

      I am actually a survivor.  I don’t wear a pink ribbon or a red ribbon to indicate that I am a survivor.  I am not a cancer survivor or an AIDS survivor; I am a marriage survivor.  Instead of a ribbon, I wear a little rope noose, a tiny pair of castrated balls, or a tiny half of a house—you know, things that really stand for and symbolize the institution of marriage and divorce.

 

      Speaking of marriage and divorce, the older I get, the more it bothers me that nobody pays attention to my idea of “marriage insurance.”  I have told my idea to every man I know who was getting married; however, they all just laughed at me and ignored me. (Years later, my “humorous” little idea suddenly became brilliant to them and they all wished that they had listened to me!)  When I say marriage insurance, I don’t mean paying a premium to an insurance company to guarantee payment in case of a catastrophic divorce.  I know that that would be too easily abused.  I have thought this out. My idea—and I really think that this is brilliant—is to get a safety deposit box in a bank that is not the one that you and your wife use. (Make sure that the bank statement address is your work address.  This way any statements from the bank come to your work so your spouse won’t know or find out.)  Each month take $100 in cash out of your paycheck and place that $100 into the safety deposit box. Do this for every month that you are married. Then after ten years or so, if you don’t get divorced, you can take the money out and take her on an expensive “anniversary” cruise or buy her some expensive “anniversary” jewelry.  You can tell her that you were saving this money just for her for all these years because you love her so much and that you were planning all of this just for her.  Gee—doesn’t that sound so sweet and romantic?  She will think that you are the most thoughtful and loving husband in the world! (You can thank me later for the great sex that you’ll have.)  On the other hand, if after ten years or so, when you do have to go through a divorce, (which is, statistically, more likely) you will now have enough money for either a good lawyer, a new TV (to replace the one your wife took), a new recliner (to replace the one your wife took), or just enough money to rent a really good hooker or two.  Trust me, you’ll need it. Both the extra money and the hookers… (You can also thank me later for the great sex with the hookers, too!) 

 

      I don’t mean to sound so negative about marriage, even though marriage is the leading cause of divorce.   In fact, I have another brilliant idea that will eliminate divorce altogether!  I think that a marriage license should be like a dog license.  A dog license has to be renewed every year if you still have the dog.  Why not do the same thing for marriage? Make a marriage license one that must be renewed for every year that you still have the dog …uh…the wife.   Instead of costly divorces, you could just let the license expire. This would also make things easier if you “accidentally” forgot to renew it.  “Oops, sorry honey... I forgot to renew our marriage license. Our marriage has expired. Get out!”   Also, the state would get yearly revenue from all the annual license renewals.  Use all that money to fund roads, repair bridges, pay policemen, pay teachers, build hospitals, fund pre-schools, feed and clothe the homeless, etc.  (Damn, I’m a freaking visionary!)    

 

      Okay, let’s go ahead and get the rest of the marriage/divorce stuff out of the way.  You’ve probably already heard most of these before, but if you’ve ever been married (or divorced) you will always appreciate the truthfulness to these statements, so here goes.

• Marriage isn’t a word; it’s a sentence.
• “I am” is reportedly the shortest sentence in the English language.  “I do” is the longest sentence.
• Marriage is an institution; I’m not ready for an institution.
• The only perfect marriage would be with a deaf man and a blind woman.
• Love is blind, but marriage is an eye-opener.
• When two people want to get married, the bride gets a shower, but for the groom, it’s curtains.
• How much does a marriage cost?  I wouldn’t know.  I’m still paying for it.
• Marriage is like eating at a nice restaurant.  As soon as you have ordered, you see what the fellow beside you ordered, and you wish that you had ordered that.
• Someone at my wedding lit the fuse on my wife’s tampon.  It went off shortly after we were married.
• Marriage is the transference of misery from a woman to a man.
• A man who gives in when is wrong is wise; a man who gives in when he is right is married.
• There is a huge difference between a divorce and a legal separation.  A legal separation gives you time to hide your money.
• Am I opposed to same-sex marriage? Yes, I was married for nine years and the sex was always the same.
• Am I opposed to gay marriage?  No, I’m opposed to all marriage. (If gays want to be just as miserable as straight people, I say, go for it!)
• A man isn’t complete until he is married; then he’s finished.
• Before marriage, a man yearns for the woman he loves. After marriage, the “Y” becomes silent.
• Before marriage a man holds a woman’s hands for love; after marriage a man holds a woman’s hands to keep her from killing him.
• There are parts of a marriage that are good.  There are also parts of a colonoscopy that are good, too.  It’s just hard to remember them because you have a drain pipe running up your ass!  The extremely painful parts make it hard to remember the good parts.
• Why are divorces so expensive?  Because they are worth it!
• I probably should have paid more attention to my wedding vows. I really don’t remember the part where they said, “Everything you say can and will be used against you.”
• Marriage is a three ring circus: engagement ring, wedding ring, and suffering.
• Some women fake orgasms; my wife faked an entire relationship!
• You really don’t know a woman until you’ve divorced her.
• Marriage—a relationship where one is always right, and the other is the husband.
• Sex during marriage—for the first five years, it will be tri-weekly; for the next five years, it will be try weekly; for the next five years, it will be try weakly.
• Marriage is like a deck of cards. You start out with hearts and a diamond, but end up wanting a club and a spade!
• The first fifty years of marriage are always the hardest.
• A divorce only proves whose mother was right in the first place.
• As far as relationships are concerned, you have two choices in life: you can be single and be miserable, or you can get married and wish that you were dead.
• I married “Miss Right.”  I just didn’t realize that her first name was “Always.”
• Marriage is like a hot bath.  Once you get used to it, it isn’t so hot.
• Marriages are made in heaven, but so are lightning, thunder, tornadoes, and hailstorms.
• A man who gives in when he is wrong is wise; a man who gives in when he is right is married.
• What’s the difference between a girl-friend and a wife? 45 pounds!
• What’s the difference between a boy-friend and a husband? 45 minutes!
• Half of all marriages end in divorce; the other half end in death.
• And my favorite of them all, what’s the difference between having a job for five years and being married for five years?  After five years, the job still sucks!  (Married women hate that joke; married men agree with the joke, but can’t bring themselves to laugh at it because it is a true statement; and single people just laugh at it.  But one day their views on that joke will change! And by the way, that “joke” is actually NOT a joke!)