Two men enter, one man leaves. No, I'm not talking about Kim Kardashian. Though, that's a good guess. I'm talking about the classic Mad Max film, one of Mel Gibson's kick-ass movies he made before he hated Jews. The premise behind the Thunderdome is: when two people have a dispute, they enter the Thunderdome and one of them kills the other.
I bring this up because right now, I have someone out there who wants to kick my ass. Okay, that's being charitable: at any given time, there are probably multiple people who want to do me harm for some slight, real or imagined. Lucky for me they haven't gotten it in their heads to team up and create some kind of Legion of Doom. But this one actually has a somewhat legitimate reason: I convinced his wife to leave him. Oh, and she took the kids.
Now, in fairness...he was hitting her. A lot. And I don't mean open hand slaps to the face--not that it would make it okay if they were--we're talking bunched fist, Ike Turner smackdowns. He was usually clever enough to punch her in the stomach or hips so the bruises wouldn't show. But there were a few blows to the face. This is a very small woman: she's around a hundred pounds and just over five feet tall. And she has four children, three with this man and one of them is a newborn.
Also, there was this guy's constant playing of World of Warcraft. Like, all the god-damned time. When he wasn't drunk and hitting her, he was leveling up his night-elf paladin or some bullshit like that. I don't know, I don't play that game because I have a career and someone to have sex with. It got to the point that he was calling in sick to work to stay home and play the game, or missing work because he couldn't get up in the morning from playing all night.
So, yeah...also there were some drugs but whatever.
The point is, this is a bad guy. And I told my friend that he was going to kill her. Because he was. He might not be trying to kill her (though, on a few occasions he did twist her head until her neck popped) but that is how these things end. So, we (as in, my wife and me) got her out of that house.
Also, she took the computer...because it's hers. And she didn't want any trace of World of Warcraft on there, so I deleted his character(s). A couple of them were level 70. I don't play the game, but I've been told that is high, and represents a lot of time and "work." Well, they are all in Valhalla now.
He wasn't happy about any of this. He was so devastated that he got drunk and stoned for the whole weekend, during which time my friend had to take her infant son to the hospital. He had tubes put in. I stayed at the hotel with her other three kids while she waited in the ER to find out if her son was going to be okay. He never called or tried to come see his son, despite knowing he was in the hospital. He was busy getting shit-faced, after all. Her son is doing much better. She has since left Joplin and is in a safe place.
So there, I wrecked a home. It's what I do. And, I feel pretty good about it.
Of course, this loser thinks I'm screwing his wife. We expected that. We didn't expect the next part: he thinks she left Joplin was because my wife found out about our affair and she had to run away. Let's forget that this woman is a friend of my wife's and married--albeit to a loser, but still married. First of all my lovely (and physically powerful) wife would have dealt with me first. I assure you, I wouldn't be writing a blog right now...unless it was with one of those sticks they put in quadriplegics' mouths to let them use a keyboard. Since I am blogging with my fingers (all of them) you may rest assured that isn't what happened.
When she told me of his theory, I said that it would be funny for her to tell him that he's wrong about Amanda: she's not mad at her for sleeping with her husband, because Amanda is sleeping with her, too. Of course, that isn't true but it would be hilarious. Unfortunately, it might complicate her divorce attempts if she made that claim, so we'll just stick to the truth: she's not sleeping with either of us, single or as part of some group thing.
Also, he's mad about the Warcraft characters. Yeah, I did that. Go blow a pig, asshole.
Now he wants to get all Thunderdome on me. I'm not worried, because he doesn't even know where I live. He's only seen me in pictures. Also, he's kind of an idiot. Seriously, he's just dumb enough to come after me in public with a bag of meth in his pocket. I am not kidding. THAT is the level I'm dealing with here.
Nevertheless, he made a threat and I should take it seriously...at least to some degree. Long time readers of my blogs know I'm not shy about owning firearms. I'm also not afraid to have one nearby at any given time. Likewise, I'm not a small guy. I'm not in as good a shape as I once was, but I'm a hell of a lot bigger than a 100 lb. housewife. If he thinks the combat techniques he's honed over the years wailing on his petite wife are going to work on a 6ft2, 240 lb. man who works out every day...that's not going to end well for him.
The bottom line here is this: on the off chance that Wifepunch McBeaterton (not his real name) is reading this, I want to make one thing extremely clear: Your wife has never cheated on you with me. Or Amanda. Your wife didn't leave you because I talked her into it. Your wife left you because you were a bad husband, a bad father, and an abusive spouse. You hit your wife. Not once, but many, many times. There is no excuse for that. Attacking me isn't going to change the fact that you're a terrible person. At best it's going to get you thrown in jail; at worst: killed.
I'm not messing around here. I've made some jokes, but I'm serious now: you're wife is leaving you. Your marriage is over, and it's your fault. I know dignity and honor are foreign concepts to you, so I'll just appeal to the reptilian part of your brain: let it go, before you make things worse for yourself.
I don't want to hurt you--okay, that's a lie, I do kinda want to hurt you a lot...BUT I'm not going to instigate anything with you. But if you make the mistake of coming after me or my family, I won't hesitate for a second. Only one of us is going to walk out of the Thunderdome, Jim.
Now that I got all of THAT out of my system, here is a picture of one of my cats:
Aw! Thor is so cute!