Ok, ok, I know this thread is supposed to be about a theoretical fox coupe with t-tops.
But my now ex just told me she’s dating someone else.
Imagine, if you will, a man, a good man by all accounts, stuck in a quagmire, nay, a pit of quicksand. His struggles against the rising sticking mass are useless, he’s going under, his eyes flash one last time prior to sinking under the depths of the vial goo of “marital bliss”.
Then the great super hero, Divorceman dives in to rescue him and pull his wrecked body from the vial consequences of a lopsided allegiance to a narcissistic bonding that has been recognized by the state as a legally bonding called “marriage”.
Your hero breathes again, “Ah, fresh air, is that..........freedom?......freedom to choose whatsoever I shall do?
Yes, yes it is our poor little beaten and weatherworn friend.....YES, YES IT IS!!!!!!!
My arms are above surface, dare I say I begin to hope? I’m floundering towards solid ground, cooked steak, by cooked steak. Smoked brisket by smoked brisket I get a little closer to what may be called a, “real and actual life”.
Today my ex asked me if the kids have told me that she’s dating someone.......................................................









That expression I have in the picture above is an exact duplicate when I heard this. The one exception is I had a Jim Beam Devil’s Cut I was drinking.
The above hero was more than rescued to merely live as divorceman was apt to let him! The above hero has arisen like a phoenix to drink copious amounts of dirty bastard beer on a night before work to celebrate, nay not celebrate, to revel, rejoice, leap up and down in frenzied dances (Sure, said hero would have preferred this news on a night that didn’t involve a work day following).
Your hero (ok, maybe i’m not your personal hero, maybe i’m nobody. I’m alright with that) has been freed!!
So, it’s warmer, maybe I’ll work on Booger this next weekend.