ex-squared.
i went to my ex’s house for the evening to watch a movie.
as a woman it’s my duty to walk around trying to notice anything different from the last time i was there. i can’t help it, it’s written into my genetic code. blame god.
there was a dixie chicks album on his stereo and a hawaiian shirt in his closet with the ugliest flowers ever printed to fabric. i was afraid to look any longer in fear my eyes would bleed out of their sockets, which would’ve made driving home an ordeal.
let this be a lesson to all future boyfriends, when i go everything good in your life seems to follow, including your musical taste and sense of fashion. the rest? well, that’s a secret.
And yadda yadda yadda, you’re really tired today.
Go? You just got here!
Hawaiian shirts are the work of the devil.
Sarah, I’d stay away from him. Not exactly your best choice.
The Dixie Chicks recent album is actually really good. And ever since I saw “Shut Up and Sing!”, I call myself a fan. If you haven’t seen the film, check it out.
costanza: there was no yadda yadda yadda. trust me.
sumwun: i know, but i’m a leaver.
pants: agreed, my dear.
anon: i have soooo many exes, how do you know which one i’m speaking of?