This…this is just…I don’t even know what the fuck to call this story.
Couple meets online playing Second Life. They hit it off. They get married…for real. Thgey also get ‘married’ in Second Life.
Wife comes home from work one day, and sees on the monitor that husband’s avatar is fucking a hooker. Wife HIRES A PRIVATE DETECTIVE…for what reason? Why to FOLLOW HER HUSBAND ON LINE, of course!
Husband’s avatar is spending a lot of time with the character of another woman. WIFE FILES FOR DIVORCE. Not just in the GAME, no no…IN REAL LIFE.
She apparently feels she has been cheated on. Listen up, you retarded dingbat cunt…SECOND LIFE IS NOT FUCKING REAL! If his CHARACTER is banging a whore, it DOES NOT MEAN HE IS. Do us all a goddamn favor…the next time your useless ass is relaxing in the tub, please grab that razor you use to shave your legs, pop the blades out and cut your wrists. And do it VERTICAL, UP THE ARM…none of this across the wrist pretend bullshit…DIE. Actually, before you do that, consume the entire contents of your medicine cabinet, and perhaps everything under the sink, first.
You are an utterly useless waste of human chromosomes. If your shocking lack of intelligence and any sort of connection to reality cannot be explained away by some level of retardation, you are simply too much of a drag on human evolution to be allowed to live. Sorry, sweetheart, but if life’s a game of Poker, you are sitting there with a 3, an 8 and a Jack. You don’t even have five cards because you tossed away that King and Queen you were holding as they were clearly cheating on you with each other (oh, and by the way, the fact that that Suicide King was taking himself out? Totally your fault).
Now, I know it’s cruel, but here’s a look at your future. Trust me, it’s for your own good.
You will spend the rest of your life alone, eating bon bons on the couch and slowly expanding (See, call us quirky, but we males don’t tend to enjoy spending time around some chick who can best be described as BATSHIT CRAZY). Sure, you’ll try online dating, but nobody seems interested when your profile describes your hobbies as ‘Long walks on the beach, paranoid delusions and spending my days wrapped up in a nonexistent fantasy world’. Eventually, you’ll have to quit your job because travel (actually, just the simple act of rolling over in your industrial-strength-support bed) will become too difficult for your massive, oozing self to even contemplate any more. Have no fear, though…your expanding business as history’s greatest Jabba the Hutt impersonator will keep you in the green! When you’re as good an impersonator as you’ll be, people will have no problem bringing the parties to you (and why not? You’ve been bedridden so long that your apartment is pretty much pristine). Eventually, you’ll gain a measure of infamy as fattest bitch in history (wow…that AND craziest loon ever…truly the 2 marks of a satisfying existence). Eventually, you’ll drown in your own corpulence. You’ll just be left to rot after seventeen firemen suffer debilitating and career ending injuries attempting to heft massive hunks of you (you were too large to move whole, so the sawzalls were brought out to make the burdens lighter) down 3 flights of stairs. Your 27 cats will live long, happy lives as they feast upon you.
So, see, you might as well just do it now. Compared to THAT isn’t suicide truly the better option? Hell, go out fast…spend that money you’ve been saving up for kids’ college funds (YOU…having CHILDREN…because some man EVER AGAIN decides to put his dick…in YOU…Jesus, you ARE crazy!) on a nice shotgun. You can save a little by only needing to buy one round! Actually…considering the intelligence you’ve displayed thus far, you might wanna pick up a few extras…
Just die.
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http://www.bisonweb.ca Liam
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http://www.bisonweb.ca Liam
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http://www.peerpressureworks.com Cliff
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http://www.blackbus.org Pete
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http://www.blackbus.org Pete
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http://www.peerpressureworks.com Cliff
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http://www.bisonweb.ca Liam
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http://www.bisonweb.ca Liam



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