I never cease to be amazed at the stupid shit my soon-to-be-ex, aka Porky Pig, does. And, I’m only two months out from D-Day — Lord knows what the future holds!
Ironically, part of his sparkle is his PhD in electromagnetic physics [OMG he is soooooo smart — said in my best Valley Girl voice!]. Too bad his course of study didn’t include basic technology or common sense.
Stupid Shit #1.
Two years ago, our daughter transferred to a school that is a 45 minute drive from home. Because of the distance, we allowed her to have my old iPhone with the caveat that she must accept our invitations to “Find My Friends” so that we could track her and that she could track us. How wonderful that we all know where we all are at any given time! Porky Pig seems unaware of all this. My lawyer and I bow down and praise the geniuses at Apple who invented the time-and-date-stamped screen grab function which proves that no, he was not at his dying father’s bedside that weekend — he was with Schmoopie at her house 70 miles away. This app was incredibly useful when I hired the private investigator to get photos that could be used as evidence in court. Let me see…. right now they’re at Geno’s having lunch. Techtard.
Stupid Shit #2.
Porky Pig unabashedly states to any and all persons, including our children, that he didn’t start a relationship with the OW until after he moved out. Okay, first of all that’s a lie (see stupid shit #1)… and, second of all, we live in a fault state where adultery, even post-separation adultery, is an offense. Glibtard.
Stupid Shit #3.
After Porky Pig moved out, I discovered that he had already surreptitiously removed all his personal files/records from our home… not that he was planning anything, right? Uh oh. What about that bowl full of flash drives sitting on top of the desk? The ones that contain backups of all his work laptops since 2005. The ones that are still sitting there as I type. Umm… the ones that contain evidence that could put Porky Pig in prison for no less than five years. Oops. Senilityisabitchtard.
Here is a recent conversation with my lawyer.
Me: I don’t think he’s seen a lawyer yet.
Lawyer: Oh, I’m sure he has.
Me: Then why does he keep doing things that are hurting his case?
Lawyer: I think he’s stupid.
I smell a generous settlement.
Meh or Bust
Dear Meh or Bust,
Wow, that’s some kind of stupid you got there. But I’m not terribly surprised your STBX husband was sloppy with the discard. Cleaning up messes and suffering consequences are for the little people — chumps. It never occurs to these ding dongs that their idiocy will be their undoing. I guess his lawyer will have to explain it to him in exorbitant 6-minute billing increments.
How could they be so stupid?! comes up a lot around here. (Not that you’re asking, more like reveling…) Answer — because they’re cocky. It’s easy to deceive someone who trusts you. Cheaters don’t see it that way, of course. While they’re constructing double lives, creating dating profiles, and purchasing secret cell phone plans, they’re James Fucking Bond. And chumps are the bumbling villains who must be thwarted at all cost. Is it easy to dupe a trusting chump? Sure, but cheaters just see that as evidence of their superiority, not our commitment.
Worse, our trust makes cheaters contemptuous of us. Think about the mental gymnastics that takes — to lie to someone’s face and instead of feeling ashamed or clammy with discomfort — to think instead I’m really That Good. Boy, is chump ever stupid!
Of course, our distrust makes cheaters contemptuous too — hey, we cannot be obstacles to their happiness! Point is, cheaters feel entitled to get away with it all — because they’ve been getting away with it all for ages. Chumpy there has spackled, pick me danced, and sobbed with flamboyant weakness. We are not deemed to be worthy opponents.
So it’s all rather delicious when consequences hit. The Achilles heel of every narcissist is underestimating others.
Meh or Bust — you are MIGHTY. Two months out from D-Day and you have the presence of mind to lawyer up and hire a PI? Your STBX has fucked with the wrong woman. In the immortal words of Porky Pig: “Ble, ble, ble, that’s all folks!”