Share with sugar bear
I've noticed that it's no less expensive to live single than it is to live in a couple.
My food budget is higher somehow—largely due to this inflationary round I'd guess. But still.
Utilities are the same. Taxes are worse because my ex never had any income. Now she does but doesn't withhold. I don't think she knows that you're supposed to. And I pay her $10,000 a month post-tax in maintenance—a new expense for me that's half of my post-tax income.
Maybe you can pick up the bill the next time we have a meal together. You can learn to do that for others if we never share a morsel again.
Or how about a small gift—something for the house?—as thanks for supporting you for 30 years and sharing ownership of my company and all of the cash we got from my parents' gifts and estate.
For listing you as the 100% beneficiary of our wills even though you had your secret hand in our joint cookie jar and shared your half of our assets with nieces and nephews who now doin't remember my name. Haven't heard from a single one of them. Why would you guess that is?
I know Joe and Pam would be proud of you for saying thanks at least. Disclosing your gratitude for it all, rather than blathering on about death from broken plates.
Yawn. Pass the jolly Roger's. You're more likely to fall off our Peloton. Or fall down running as you always do. Or get sued by a manipulated client. Or—your funny joke—get bees in your vagina rhymes with Mina.
I am amazed daily when I reflect on what a schmuck you were! My true companion and partner. Marc Cohen is puking somewhere. So are my parents. Today's their anniversary by the way. Their 70th! Send a card? Just a reminder. Best daughter-in-law in the world right?
The taxman always gets his share. Eventually. I paid him timely for both of us for 30 years while you pilfered and chiseled.
My food budget is higher somehow—largely due to this inflationary round I'd guess. But still.
Utilities are the same. Taxes are worse because my ex never had any income. Now she does but doesn't withhold. I don't think she knows that you're supposed to. And I pay her $10,000 a month post-tax in maintenance—a new expense for me that's half of my post-tax income.
Maybe you can pick up the bill the next time we have a meal together. You can learn to do that for others if we never share a morsel again.
Or how about a small gift—something for the house?—as thanks for supporting you for 30 years and sharing ownership of my company and all of the cash we got from my parents' gifts and estate.
For listing you as the 100% beneficiary of our wills even though you had your secret hand in our joint cookie jar and shared your half of our assets with nieces and nephews who now doin't remember my name. Haven't heard from a single one of them. Why would you guess that is?
I know Joe and Pam would be proud of you for saying thanks at least. Disclosing your gratitude for it all, rather than blathering on about death from broken plates.
Yawn. Pass the jolly Roger's. You're more likely to fall off our Peloton. Or fall down running as you always do. Or get sued by a manipulated client. Or—your funny joke—get bees in your vagina rhymes with Mina.
I am amazed daily when I reflect on what a schmuck you were! My true companion and partner. Marc Cohen is puking somewhere. So are my parents. Today's their anniversary by the way. Their 70th! Send a card? Just a reminder. Best daughter-in-law in the world right?
The taxman always gets his share. Eventually. I paid him timely for both of us for 30 years while you pilfered and chiseled.
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