That ... Asshole

This photo has nothing to do with anything I've written in this post. I just thought it looked kind of trippy, and yes, I was pretty wasted when I took it.  Sort of a Vegas palm tree on acid thing happening here.

You know,  from a mental health perspective, I think it represents real progress when you go from making excuses for someone and thinking of him as "The Man Who Broke My Heart (tm)," to remembering, "Oh, yeah, dude treated me like shit," and thinking of him as, "That Scared Peepants Pissant Little Asshole."  Though TSPPLA makes quite an Eastern-European mouthful of an acronym, doesn't it?

I was just thinking about That....Asshole's last, blowhard-ey email to me and what goes through my mind now is, wow, good riddance to bad rubbish.  Whereas I 'm sure he hit the "send" button and said to himself, as people of his ilk are wont to do, "There! I really showed HER."  Woooo, big tough guy emailer.  Stupid ineffectual putz fucker.  May his dick dry up and drop off from non-use during the rest of his sad, shitty, sexless marriage.

So, let's not call him anything any more, except maybe the pile of warm, runny, bullshit I stepped into in April and May and spent the month of June hosing off the bottom of my good shoes.

Besides, he was short, and he walked funny.