My Wife Hides Ice Cream Sandwiches from Me
The beauty of freelance, working-from-home life is that I can type this right now wearing a pink thong and lipstick on my nipples and no one is the wiser. The ugly is that there is a refrigerator with food I chose to stock a mere 15 steps from my desk.
He was tired of carrying her weight. Her financial choices and responsibilities. Her alcoholism. And he knew she was tired of his drug abuse and laziness and porn addiction. And Train played. And the guy kept talking. “Thing is, man… if it weren’t for divorce, I’d have student loans.”