Every time I try to get out, they pull me back in!

Hi Kids, As many of you know, SCM found the blog. He did so by deciding to open up every folder on my old computer seeking to solve the mystery that is Christine.

I can't help picturing the Mission Impossible theme going through his head as he points and clicks his way around my shit.

Yeah, I felt bad for a few days. Of course not for the fact that I publicly humiliated him but that I got caught doing it.

I do have a heart but it has been and will remain in self protection mode as long as it continues to beat.

Soon he was trying to make me feel better assuring me that he 'wasn't going to do anything.'

Errrrr, ok, thanks?

I mean what could he do? Yell at me, sign the divorce papers??? What were those assurances about?

Since I am capable of rational thought, I often have the misconception that all others are as well. So it took me a bit to figure out what the hell SCM was fucking getting at?

He was talking about SUING ME.

Yes, my husband of 9 years was under the impression that his generosity was going to save me from litigation.

He was a bit stunned to discover you can't sue your fucking wife jerkwad! Especially not because you widdle feelings were hurt.

I should have taken the high road and thanked him profusely for his generosity for keeping another frivolous suit out of the court system but the threat was just too fucking stupid to be permitted to live.

So of course, I squashed it like a bug.

As more time passed, SCM decided that he really was quite impressed with my blog and suggested a collaboration of some sort.

I offered a guest post but no, he wanted to start a new blog where he could get his ramblings read by the audience I had created over the years.

Gah....but.....what???

Not so much.

Anyway. This new blog is going to focus on my life as a single over 40 woman with a bad attitude and tits that are starting to sag...... Maybe, just maybe...we can pick up some more interesting characters along the way.

Of course we will. I attracted them like bulimics around a toilet bowl.