Comments on: Move Aside, Proust: The Ex-Wife Speaks

By: Why Are They Torturing Me? |

Why Are They Torturing Me? | — Thu, 14 Mar 2019 04:04:46 +0000

[…] to wallow in the nightmare of the boots, I went looking for one of my favorite tools of self-harm, the ex-wife’s monthly column in her neighborhood paper. This month, she is expounding on the […]

By: blights

blights — Mon, 28 Aug 2017 13:05:51 +0000

What an extraordinary gift the Ex has to pump out prose like this, quite extraordinary. Everything just slightly out of focus. Already in first para we have “our kids bat not a eye.” Glad to hear it, as batting eyes could get very messy. She is a bit Mrs Malaprop.

By: Suspended

Suspended — Sat, 12 Aug 2017 21:05:27 +0000

Did we all just torture beasties?

We used to make puddles so that we could wash worms that were probably “sick of being dirty.” We were convinced it was a nice spa day for them. I think most drowned, or maybe their lack of animation was due to being super relaxed?

By: Mr. Picodogg

Mr. Picodogg — Fri, 11 Aug 2017 21:49:17 +0000

You know me, I don’t spend a lot of time looking back. I trust you’ll let me know if there is something I should know about.

By: Sister Wolf

Sister Wolf — Fri, 11 Aug 2017 03:35:24 +0000

Dana – I do take solace, but everyone is a better writer.

By: Sister Wolf

Sister Wolf — Fri, 11 Aug 2017 03:32:09 +0000

Tom Isenberg – Do you think there are two kinds of people, the kind who were traumatized by summer camp, and the other kind????

By: Dana

Dana — Fri, 11 Aug 2017 00:40:52 +0000

Take solace in your 1000% better writing. She do like stringing on those clauses, don’t she?

By: Tom Isenberg

Tom Isenberg — Thu, 10 Aug 2017 19:53:30 +0000

Sister Wolf, I’ll leave the ex-wife stuff to you. As for overnight camp, yes, a nightmare incarnate. “At camp, it felt like I was being tortured by mean strangers and bees. It was a nightmare.” And my parents promised me I could come home after a week if I didn’t like it. Of course, a lie. Then told at halftime visitors day I could leave. Again, had to stay until the bitter end of 2 months. But not only strangers, but a good friend who I went with turned on me and got the whole bunk against me.

The only saving grace was I loved the sugar drink at meals (so called “bug juice”) and the Sgt. Pepper’s album was released that Summer and my parents did bring me a little portable record player and the lp. Can’t say that saved the Summer, but it helped. Never loved the album (too pop-y and sugary at times, more of a “Rubber Soul,” “Abbey Road,” first side of “Magical Mystery Tour,” and “White Album” kind of guy) though did love “For The Benefit of Mr. Kite” and would listen to it over and over again.

By: Sister Wolf

Sister Wolf — Thu, 10 Aug 2017 18:29:42 +0000

Penny – Well of course, slugs got the salt here too. We can’t all be snails, can we?

Max Page – You are projecting. But I know it would have been “wondrous.”

Romeo – Ha, same, only my camp was Jewish camp, with constant prayers and candles and all kinds of bullshit I didn’t understand or want to understand. No one would talk to me, not even my sister. Our parents are war criminals.

By: Romeo

Romeo — Thu, 10 Aug 2017 17:50:33 +0000

“At camp, it felt like I was being tortured by mean strangers and bees.” My camp was like that too except it also had indoctrination sessions about original sin, Old Testament plagues, and the importance of accepting Jesus Christ into your heart as your personal lord and savior. Meanwhile, the Christians sprayed me in the face with aerosol cleaners and flushed my shoes down the toilet.

Mom and dad: I hope your week of uninterrupted fucking was worth my week of total horror and fear. But I bet your parents fucked you up too much with your own unmitigated horror and fear to figure out how to fuck adequately.