What kind of delusional bitch thinks that a man kissing her with his fist is a sign of his utmost affection? I need to meet one of these tragic little hussies. I doubt that will happen, though. I'm sure she is too busy appreciateing the force with which Hubby just burst her head through the bathroom wall. Now she can watch her stories in the living room while Captian Contempt still rubs Listerine into her fresh cigar burn-wounds from the bathroom. You are so lucky to have him, girl! I guess we willl never be together. At least, not until I discover her bloated masochist of a body floating down the river with so many bruises that I mistake her for the deceased Grimace.
"Looks like the drugs finally got the best of him..."
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