The Divorcening
I realised recently that there's a certain irony in my tirades against celebrity-mongering and the very same celebrity-mongering that Shirty engages in. I choose the term 'irony' over 'hypocrisy' because, for one, this is mine - and Shirty's - blog, and I can be as blind as I want here. Secondly, well... Shut up!
Anyway, today's Shirtological Cranial Recalibration Eliciting Wonderous Yawns (S.C.R.E.W.Y., for short) is a woman who's gettin' herself a dee-vorce. You'd have to be living under a rock that's in a box that's in the trunk of someone's car that parked in a corner of their backyard and is overgrown by weeds and hasn't been touched in ages to not at least heard tell of their marital troubles, via the supermarket check-out line, of course.
Whether it's drug and alcohol abuse or physical abuse, this is one couple who understand that love hurts. And by that logic, they must really love each other. Alot.
Anyway, today's Shirtological Cranial Recalibration Eliciting Wonderous Yawns (S.C.R.E.W.Y., for short) is a woman who's gettin' herself a dee-vorce. You'd have to be living under a rock that's in a box that's in the trunk of someone's car that parked in a corner of their backyard and is overgrown by weeds and hasn't been touched in ages to not at least heard tell of their marital troubles, via the supermarket check-out line, of course.
Whether it's drug and alcohol abuse or physical abuse, this is one couple who understand that love hurts. And by that logic, they must really love each other. Alot.
posted by Edmund J. Whipplethorpe @ 9:43 AM
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