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post #307
bio: chris

wish list
first post
that week

Previous Posts
On Sting (and other crap)
Things I Say to My Dad, Because (like myself) He Thinks, Irrationally, He's Going to Die Soon
Why Hipstamatic Was Invented
Happy Mother's Day, Y'all
Black Pear Tree (Guest Post from John Darnielle)

Exes, eh?
Exes? Really? This is what we’re talking about.


Go and look through my archive. From Post One and Post Two from 2002 til my last post. My whole oeuvre (thanks, Stu) is about exes. Ex girlfriends, ex-grandparents, ex-friends, ex-lovers (LOVERS! LOVERLY LOVERS!) ex-experiences, ex-exes, ex-oskeletons, ex-temporaneous assholenish, ex-facebook friends who are no longer my facebook friends.

Everything I’ve ever posted is about what I was bright enough to gain and dumb enough to lose.

So if we’re talking about ex-anythings, I have nothing new to say. It’s all there.  Except that, as easy as it is to simply say this, I think you'd all like me better if you met me just now rather than knew me when.  Even those of you I willingly let go away.

You may think this is a cop-out, but I can’t do it better, and simultaneously worse, than I already have. I’ve been there. Don’t need to go back again.

Of course, as I am about to post this, Eli The Barrowboy comes up on the iPod.

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