The End of the Summer Affair
Well, there goes that warm, fuzzy feeling from the 4th
of July.
You know, I was feeling forced to comment on the “shocking”
(sarcasm on) decision not to indict Hillary Clinton for her “extreme
carelessness” with the whole email thing but then I said to myself, why, who
cares what I think? The whole thing stinks, both candidates stink and the
opinions of all the talking heads stink. Especially the talking heads. So why
should I add my stinking opinions?! I can’t think of anything that will make me
feel any better about it let alone anyone else. Especially when I have
something really important to talk about today.
It is with a heavy heart that I must share that I fear she
has been cheating on me. Oh, I’ve suspected it for some time, all the telltale
signs were there: visiting me at odd hours then disappearing, telling me how
great I am and I’m the only one – and then doing her best to crush my ego. And
the oldest trick in the book; she’s no longer interested in “it.” By “it” I
mean, not responding to my touch when I need her the most. The bitch!
Golf is a demanding mistress and even more so when she has
lost interest in you. Wait, what did you think I was talking about? Oh my God, no! No, but golf, on the other hand, has no morals, no
scruples, no loyalties - and very few birdies. I can no longer deal with the
almost total randomness of our relationship: perfect drive, duck hook in the
woods; par, bogie, par, double bogey; heights of joy, bottomless despair – all in
about an hour. I tell you I can’t take it anymore, one of us has got to go, it’s
her or me!
I have to admit we’ve been through this before, in fact,
almost every year about this time we become estranged. I don’t know, maybe we’re
seeing too much of each other. Or maybe one or the other of us has become too
demanding. In any event, it’s time for us to take a break from each other and just
have some space for a while.
I know I will need to find something to take my mind off of her
(and wondering who she is playing with today) and maybe make her jealous by
taking up with a sexy, new pastime myself. Of course to make me forget her it
will have to be much like her: expensive, frustrating, fickle and very time
consuming. Hmmm. Wait, I know just the thing – go shopping! Head out to Mall of
America every day and hit as many shops as I can, there must be like thousands of
them! I can pay through the nose for things I don’t need, get bumped into,
ignored, gouged and irritated - I’ll hate it. My god, it IS just like golf!
It won’t be long though, I’m sure, and we’ll rush into
each other’s arms again, share the thrill of the intimate tryst of hands and
clubs and whisper sweet curses (okay, I'll whisper curses, she's not much of a talker) and we'll be happy again.
That is until the harlot runs off with my money and
self-esteem again.
Damn, how I love that woman!
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