Becoming Sadly Single At 50 (part three)

The rise of the buried rancid puss!

By Ross E Fortune LombardiPublished 3 years ago • 4 min read

Part 2 is here,

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SADLY ALONE AT 50

part 3

The rise of the buried rancid puss!

FIRST - A JOKE!

Five twats you always get stuck dealing with “Because” of a wedding.

The Rat Lombot Version! V1

Your future spouse

The person you just married

The person you are separating from

Your ex-spouse upon divorce

YOU As you look in horror into the mirror.

Realizing that there is nothing but the endless void, forever in front of you A place without hope And an epically lonely death.

Sweat Dreams All!

THE NATURE OF HOPE Vs DOING SOMETHING!

So,

The 50 years old, Broke Ugly Fat Man is going out dancing, BY HIMSELF on a Monday night!

The local nightclub is doing a trial of Monday night openings, 11 pm till 4 am.

I have Tinder loaded; I have a packet of condoms.

I am as clean as I can get without also having an enema up my butt that uses holy water!

You may say

“Why even bother?!”

While I say instead

“Why not?”

Because as incredibly unlikely as finding romance or mutual sexual comfort on a Monday night as a 50-year-old, Broke Ugly Fat Man, looking ridiculous dancing alone on a dance floor is…

It is still gonna have a crap more chance of doing something, anything,

Then “Hopes and prayers” and holding some church’s version of a lucky rabbit’s foot.

Strangely, many of the same people who say,

“Why even bother?!”

Are weirdly often the same people that will rely on faith to make shit happen, or buy a lottery ticket.

I am not saying my chances are good

My chances are VERY crap!

Epically CRAP!

I openly admit that they are forlorn.

Less than one in two hundred thousand! – AT BEST!

BUT

The chances however unlikely are STILL going to bury anyone's chances of winning a lottery jackpot.

(1 in 302,575,350)

And the chances however unlikely are DEFINITELY going to bury, TEN TIMES OVER, anyone's chances of just praying for their lives to change.

I am not deluded about my silly-looking dancing, weird personality or Jabba the hut body.

I simply have nothing to lose?!

HOWEVER,

The only thing that has a much worse chance of changing my life than as 50 years old, Broke Ugly Fat Man is going out dancing, BY HIMSELF on a Monday night – Is staying at home and doing “fuck all” instead!

Because those changes would most definitely be 100% Zero!

Most likely scenario?

Some nice tunes, blowing off some steam, a change of scenery and some fun exercise.

You won't get those consolation prizes from any lottery ticket or any special deity book?!

At the end of the day,

Hope DOES indeed, have value!

But ONLY if it gives you the willpower to try,

And constantly keep trying.

No matter what the odds!

Hope alone – unsupported with actual real-life effort - is nothing but fairy farts!

Failure may be forgivable

BUT

Quitting NEVER is!

See you all on the dance floor!

HOUSE SITTING! FOR THE DOG!

My ex-wife wanted to go to a music festival with the kids and needed someone to look after the dog at, what is now: her house.

I very reluctantly agreed.

Staying here to "help out"

To look after the dog,

While she is at a music festival,

Was an epically bad idea of fat hippopotamus butt proportions!

If there is ever a very unique type of hell,

Then it is having to stay over at a house,

To look after your ex's home,

A home that you used to share together,

Now as just a mere visiting caretaking stranger.

To now be forced to face nights on end with sweat, regrets, memories and resurfaced resentments.

It is a special set of feelings and tortures that would be hard to adequately explain.

I am forced by social convention and promises,

To sit in the rotting corpse of my failed 20-year marriage,

And for some reason,

I am not supposed to be affected by its figurative psychic stench!?

As I sit here festering and stewing in my feelings

In this home that is not mine, but was once.

I am beginning to realise...

That I do not think I want to stay friends with my ex-wife.

Not really,

Not anymore,

I am just too dam angry at her!

I am getting sick and tired of acting all civilised and pretending that I am not angry at her.

I just want to sign over this house and get it over with!

I think I need to create far more distance between us both

And just be there for the kids.

I am pretty sure now, that I do not want her in my life.

That I want to interact with her as little as possible!

I am pretty sure I want to avoid being in the same room as her from now on, as much as I can.

She asked far too much

And I can only give so very little

Yes,

I am pissed off!

I am bloody well entitled to be!

divorced

About the Creator

Ross E Fortune Lombardi

Writer and Artist.

A (Constantly Failing To Be Funny) satirist!

Mutare non est meum

Cantus moriar

[email protected]

BLOG:

http://lombot.co.uk

You Tube:

https://www.youtube.com/@Rat_Lombot/featured

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