Awol or A Wall?

Dear Amy,

Its official. I left the house looking like a full blown whore last night and nobody seemed to care. I wound up driving around in circles instead of going out because you are currently geologically challenged. If you were here we would have relived the night you got carried out of the club singing "I believe I can fly". I know what you are going to say and vodka only explains half my situation. My current husband is addicted to a video game. My marriage is over. There is something severely wrong with a grown ass man wanting to play a video game with random strangers rather than fuck or talk to his woman.

Its my fault. I take the easy road when it comes to men. I'm not picky enough. I do not think things through. I should have known this was coming, you should have known it was coming. No, wait.. I blame you. You should have taken me aside and said "this will end badly". Sometimes I stop and laugh and think "and these are my actual life choices?" I knew, I knew in the beginning. He knew too. I think we both settled for what was easy instead of what was right. That first one threw me for a loop. It was intense, harsh and very very painfull. You never recover from something like that. It is always there. Furthermore, in all of my sexual conquests, his dick was my proudest moment.

We're not done are we? It's too soon to throw in the towel. There are things I still haven't done. Nobody has asked me to pee threw my panties while they watched or gotten rolled into a party dancing on a bell boy cart. That was you, not me. I wanna do body shots off myself by doing backbends on a bar. It has been over a year since we have done lines in a bathroom stall. A YEAR!

I have bottles of whiskey hid in my closet in my tall winter boots. Im that fucking sad. Im like a squirell.. a squirell who has been cut off. I lost Rob Zombies roadie's number. Please god tell me you still have it because if I am divorced in a month or so...its going to be a fucking shitshow. I don't even want to think about how much dick will wind up inside of me. I have lived like Sally Fucking Field in the flying nun for the last goddamn decade and I'm ready to go. Black Ops set me free.

P.S. I have enclosed the picture you took of me dancing on the table and that girl you kept calling Fred in the background. The one you told to "get her shit together for her vagina's sake". Oh and I hope you are listening to Lynard Skynard's "that smell" while reading this cause... its what's fucking coming... the apocolypse