It is no secret I’m a big fan of Chump Lady. And if you don’t know that by now I am obviously not gushing over her enough. I think she rocks. She has explained a number of times that she uses the language that she uses on her blog to get people angry, to jolt “chumps” out of their chumpdom. I say, “Thank God!” Because I do tend to try to stay very level headed. I try very hard not to let him get to me and not to let the rage simmer over into a full boil. It would be so easy to let the rage consume me and let myself completely lose control and go ape shit on his ass. But I don’t. I’m looking long range.
There are times though that I get really pissed. It pisses me off when I think of how blithely he lied to me. He flat out lied to my face without a second thought. He waltzed into our bedroom and announced he was thinking of birthday gift ideas for his mom and perhaps he would get her and his stepdad new phones and pay the bill since they only had pay as you go phones. LIAR! But, man, was he smooth as silk. I had no idea my husband could lie to me that easily.
I texted him all summer while the kids and I were away visiting friends and family. Every morning (or most mornings, I should probably say) I would snap a picture and send it to him with a little message. Usually that message was simply, “Hi,” or “Good morning.” And every day he played along, despite the fact that he was texting his whore and probably jerking off to her messages. We talked about sex and looking forward to it once I got back home. LIAR! He just kept conning me.
He callously allowed me and his therapist to “coach” him through his drive for a supposed business trip. I say supposed because there is some doubt that he was on this trip by himself. Regardless, we coached him and stroked his ego and told him how he was a big boy and he could do this! And he probably walked out of there thinking we were two of the biggest idiots he had ever encountered. Motherfucker!
He casually mentioned going to his mom’s after the business trip. You know, because he was so close to her house and he could just never forgive himself if he didn’t make the trip. In hindsight he wasn’t that much closer to her house when he was on the so called business trip than when he was at our house. Again with the lies. Again doing it so casually. And yes, that pisses me off. To think that he was filled with such hubris. That he thought he was so much better and so much smarter than me. To think about all the ways he was pulling the wool over my eyes and not losing one bit of sleep over it. Like an idiot I fully supported him, told him I had no problem with that. He even had the audacity to ask me, “Are you sure you won’t be mad?” I replied, “Of course not. She’s your mom!” Joke’s on me because dear old mom had already encouraged Harley to give her dear son a call, and there was a family reunion that they all attended. HIS family wasn’t there. Hell, we weren’t even informed about the event. But he was there, and Harley was there, and they were hooking up a year to the day that our furniture was delivered to our new house from across the country. You sonofabitch! You had better thank your lucky stars that I haven’t had a chance to get down to New Orleans because once I do I’m buying a voodoo doll and I’m cursing your ass!
I get pissed when I think about him telling bald face lies all summer long about how he’s helping his mom out with grocery money and using his niece as a cover story. “Oh, I’ve got to help them. She’s my niece. She’s young and she has a baby and she’s pregnant again. Mom can’t keep up with feeding her and her boyfriend. I’ve just gotta help!” And because I’m a nice person, a kind and loving person, a big-hearted person, I thought nothing of it. Of course we’ll help.
I think that’s the part that chaps my ass the most. He used everything that I knew about us as a couple and who we were and used that against me. We did help out our relatives. I’m not saying we were dropping hundred dollar bills on them constantly, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for us to buy groceries, pay rent, send care packages, offer to pay a dentist bill, pay for airfare… That’s why it was so easy for him to lie to me and get all of this by me. You want to buy your mom a phone and pay her bill? OK, that sounds reasonable. It’s not like we haven’t paid her rent , bought her groceries, made a car payment for her, or “loaned” her money before. We’ve got it so why not? You want to send your mom money for groceries? OK, that sounds reasonable. You sent her $500 to repair her car? Um, ok. You sent her $500 again? For what purpose? And then you turned around and supposedly paid $172 for a single fucking tire at a Walmart in the whore’s town? This is getting suspicious.
But no! He didn’t know why that charge came up as Whoreville! It was supposed to be some other town, much closer to his mom. And he gave her more money because he just knew they were really hurting and needed it. His mom didn’t ask for it, of course. He’s such a good son he simply gave it to her because he could anticipate a need.
Yes, that shit pisses me off. Again, you entitled jackass! He LIED right to my face, disrespected me, disrespected our kids, our marriage, our everything. And he used our past and my good nature to sell that lie.
I get pissed when I think about him refusing to take our daughter to his cousin’s funeral because that was just a front to go fuck his cousin. I get pissed when I think about how, once again, he told me one bald faced lie after another. What was supposed to be a quick one day trip turned into a five day adventure. He was supposed to leave on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday and return that day. Instead he left on Thursday, told me on Friday that the funeral had been switched to Saturday (but by golly he swears they told him Friday!), and then plans to come home on Sunday. When I ask him on Sunday, around 3 if he’s heading back soon he tells me he’s not leaving until 8. What???? This is a man who had to be coached to drive on his business trip less than a month ago. This is a man who until recently claimed that just driving to work (a mere 10-15 minutes away) was causing him great distress and anxiety. Now, not only can the enflamed baboon’s ass drive hours and hours, he can even drive in the dark! Praise Jesus! It’s a miracle! But wait! It gets better. I get a text at 11:00 at night letting me know he accidentally left with his mom’s keys in his briefcase. Oh, how silly you are, Baboon Ass! What a cute story! Your mom’s keys are in your briefcase because you drove to the funeral. On Saturday. And your mom never needed her keys again between Saturday and Sunday. Oh, that’s a laugh riot. Now, he has to turn around and go back to Mommy’s house where he will spend the night. He will come home the next day. Yet somehow he doesn’t manage to get his ass home until after 5 in the afternoon. It’s a 6 hour drive. It also culminated in him rear ending a truck and him needing his own car repaired. What’s wrong, Boo? Were you thinking of sliding between your whore of a cousin’s thighs and forget to stop at the light? Serves you right. Too bad you weren’t going 70 mph when you slammed into it. Hey, I told you I was pissed.
All those lies told to me and not one ounce of regret. He could lie like a pro and not blink an eye. That pisses me off. It infuriates me. You know why? Because he’s saying, “You’re so stupid I can tell you anything and you’ll believe it.” That’s insulting. No, you flaming turd shot straight from Satan’s ass, I wasn’t DUMB; I was TRUSTING. I trusted my lying, cheating husband of almost 21 years to be honest and faithful. I misjudged your character. I thought you had some and it turns out that much like your hair, you don’t have any. He used our past and my kindness and understanding against me and then has the balls to believe it’s all because he’s such an impressive person who is so much smarter than the average bear. Word to the wise, don’t ever mistake my trust and kindness for weakness.
I get pissed when I think about how he would SLEEP with his phone, and then make up lies. “I don’t want to miss a call from my mom; I was afraid I wouldn’t hear it.” What are you- six years old and away at sleep away camp for the first time? Was he afraid I would find it and read their nasty ass texts? You had a thumb print passcode, you jackass! That was probably a huge lie, too. “Oh, the company wants us to have our phones password protected so that if we ever lose them proprietary information is safe.” Just to up the ante and play on my good nature he offered to add my thumb print as well. “I trust you.” Sam, you were an idiot of proportions so huge I can’t even begin to find an appropriate adjective. You were off the charts stupid! Yes, that’s me talking to myself.
I get pissed when I think about him boldly texting her AT OUR HOME, IN OUR BEDROOM and then lying to me when I ask him who on earth he’s texting that late at night. “Oh, I’m not texting. I’m playing Words With Friends.” Seriously? You don’t think I know the difference between a text screen and a game screen?
Then I get pissed at myself because I think to myself, “Why were you such an idiot?” I don’t know! Yes, I do. I didn’t want to believe he could be cheating on me again. I didn’t want to believe he could blow up our lives like that. I liked my life. I wanted to keep it. So I buried my head in the sand and I believed even when I shouldn’t have. It reminds me of the time we went to the zoo and watched as this chimp would stick his finger in his ass and pull out a shit-covered finger. He would look at the finger, cock his head, sniff it, and then EAT the shit off of his finger. Over and over again. We stood there transfixed for more than a few minutes before we had to turn away. He’s my shit eating chimp. I couldn’t walk away!
I get pissed when I think about him checking me out only days after his return from the funeral and getting a hard on looking at me. You fucking pig dipped in cow shit covered with flies and maggots! You’re fucking your white trash cousin! Don’t be checking me out. I wouldn’t let you touch me if your dick was encrusted with diamonds! I wonder though, would it piss you off to know that the reason I was so dressed up that day was because I was going to visit a lawyer to see what my rights were and how much you would end up paying me in child support? Because I did. Yes, you see, the very next day after I discovered you were back to fucking around with little Miss Harley I started calling lawyers. I didn’t fuck around this time. I started lining up my ducks.
I get pissed when I think about him taking off only a few days later to visit “his best friend.” I mean, it was only fair since his friend had come to see him last time. This time it was his turn. Oh, had he forgotten to tell me that this was the weekend he was going? He thought I knew. And, of course, he was planning on telling me goodbye but I had just taken such a long time on my errand that he needed to leave before I could get back. No, Satan, I think you mean you waited until I left to run an errand so you could get your damn suitcase out to the car without me being any the wiser. Thankfully, I was already on to him, though so I knew it was all a lie this time. Nonetheless, it pisses me off every time I think of him asking me why I hadn’t sent him a picture of my boobs. Um, because, Dickhead, you’re fucking your cousin. It actually puts me into a white hot rage some days. The hubris. A man gets brave when he’s screwing a piece of strange, even when that piece of strange is a white trash, gold digging whore. Considering I’ve been told he has shown naked pictures of me to the whore I wonder now what his purpose in asking me to send him those pictures was. Did he want to show her? Is she eyeing some plastic surgery to be equal to me? Did he want to show her so they could laugh together about how stupid I was? Did he just want to test me, to see how far he could push me even when he was being a cheating, lying dick? I don’t know. I don’t care. it just pisses me off.
I get pissed off when I think of how he so blithely spends his work days here at this house and then packs his bags and leaves to spend the weekend with his mistress and her kids. Seriously, is that some entitled shit or what? Is he just daring me to say something to him? She can have you and all of your issues, too. But it is still some entitled bullshit with a side of “Fuck You” tossed in.
I get pissed off when I think of all the money he has given to her, or spent on her. That and the fact that he had the audacity to tell our son I “took all his money”. No, Asshole, I simply made it more difficult for you to continue giving Harley every cent we had.
Similarly, I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “I’m not going to continue to allow you to steal every dime I make!” You wouldn’t be making the kind of money you make now if it weren’t for me, you lying, cheating douchebag. And I didn’t steal YOUR money. That was OUR money and you were giving it to YOUR WHORE without MY permission.
Simply looking at his pathetic face pisses me off most days. I suppose it’s a good thing he does slink in and out of the house.
I was pissed off the day he told me, “This can still be civil.” Fuck that! I’ve been civil, you pompous, self-righteous incestuous bastard! Very, very civil.
I get pissed off when I think about him trying to paint himself as the victim to our kids. How dumb do you think they are? This isn’t your mommy and your sister. Those two idiot enablers don’t live with you, but your kids do. They’ve been here for the last fifteen and thirteen years. They know exactly what’s gone on in this house and how you’ve acted. Your daughter called you out on your shit and your son doesn’t believe a word that you say.
I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “Why don’t you use some of that money you took to pay the bills?” and then smirking, “Someone’s angry,” when I let loose on him. I understand why the show, “Snapped” exists.
I think sometimes my biggest regret is not raging against him. I sometimes wish I had Facetimed him when he was “visiting his best friend” and told him I knew, showed him the picture of his car. Busted! I wish I had told him not to come home and that I had thrown all of his shit on the front lawn with a big ol’ sign that said: Cheater lives here! I moved my entire family across the country so I could fuck my cousin! Along with a lot of smaller signs simply saying: A cheater lives at xxxx YourStreet! Enjoy fucking your whore the rest of the weekend, you asshole!
I get pissed off when I think about him giving a performance of a lifetime as Daddy of the Year for her four kids while he neglects his own. I realize his relationship (or lack of one) with his kids is his own. He’s going to have to own it and they aren’t cutting him any slack. But it still pisses me off. All these fucking years he shut himself away in his bedroom and left me to fend for myself as a single parent. He fucks a whore and it suddenly jumpstarts his paternal instinct, although honestly, I think he’s just putting on a very good act. He’ll get tired of it eventually. And it pisses me off (and makes me a little bit sad for my kids) when I think of how she brags to people about what a wonderful father he is. Is he? Because his own kids don’t think he’s doing such a bang up job. In fact, they’ve said he sucks as a dad. But it’s so good to hear he’s treating your kids well. I suppose when you’re fucking their mommy and she’s still married to their daddy you need to be especially nice to them. What better way than to buy them off?
I get pissed when I think back to asking him for money to buy a Homecoming dress for our daughter and him telling me he didn’t have the money at this time; he’d have to give it to me next paycheck. Yet somehow he was able to pay over $300 for a dress for a kid that isn’t his.
I get pissed when I think of how he’s ignoring his kid’s text messages, asking if he’s going to give them their allowances, because he’s too much of a chicken shit to actually admit that he’s not. Now that he actually has to pay support he is apparently going to take the position of: I pay child support and that should cover everything you need. Ever. That, despite the fact that he has NO BILLS outside of his support payment. He lives here rent free, pays no utilities, pays no share of the marital debt, has no cell phone bill, no car payment, doesn’t even pay his car insurance. I get a lump sum and I pay for EVERYTHING out of my money. But he can’t cough up any extra for a yearbook. Hey, here’s an idea. Take that $200+ you spend each month on Harley and her daughter’s cell phone bill and use THAT to pay for your kids’ allowances! Instead of blowing $300 on a damn dress for her daughter maybe use that money to treat your own damn kids!
I get pissed off when I think about how I’ve done all the grunt work over the years to get him to where he is and she’s going to plant her ass in one place, never moving her kids or her own self and he’s going to work around her. Or at least that’s the plan. Wonder how well that will work once he begins his new job and realizes he hates that one just as much as he hates this one because once again he has a boss? That boss might have the balls to tell him no, or to overrule him on something or not let him have his way on everything. Then he realizes in order to keep his pussy supply going he can’t move very far and now he’s stuck. Boo hoo. I feel so bad for you, CF.
I get pissed when I think about how he never arranged his jobs around OUR lives and US. No, we were always expected to go wherever he took us. But now, now he’s all about looking close to wherever the pussy is. And how ridiculous is it that he was looking at a job smack dab in the middle of both of our home towns? Seriously? For over twenty years you couldn’t manage to look in that city which would have put us 2 1/2 hours away from your family and 3 hours away from mine? That was too overwhelming for you but somehow you can now take on a divorce, your kids hating you, trying to sell a house (probably at a loss) with no guaranteed buyout, and a job change? Once again, alert the fucking press because a miracle has occurred!
I get pissed when I think about the fact that he could have been promoted instead of us making another lateral move, thousands of miles away, destroying our lives. But no, that all came to a screeching halt the first time he was fucking around with the dumb bitch and they came up with their little plan to move all of us closer (Why all of us? Couldn’t he have moved and left us behind?). He started the wheels turning way back then and we all got stuck with it. So, instead of us remaining where we were, living the lives we loved while he was promoted and traveled, essentially rendering him a weekend husband and father, we’re here in BFE. She’s the one that gets the weekend partner and father, instead of us. Come to think of it, one of the reasons he gave for not wanting to travel so much was he didn’t want to miss out on his kids’ lives. O.M.G. That is hysterical! He doesn’t seem to give two shits about his kids and what they want or what they’re doing. And isn’t he basically doing the exact same thing he said he didn’t want to do? It’s just that instead of staying at a Hilton or a Marriott, he’s staying in the family home while he’s away at work and then he drives the six hours to spend the weekend with his fake family.
I get pissed when I think of how casually he told me he was “grateful” to me for moving all over the country for him and his job. Grateful? How about acknowledging the fact that you’d still be a fucking 2nd shift supervisor if not for me? Or perhaps a superintendent if you were very lucky. The fact that I was willing to relocate instead of stomping my feet and insisting that I couldn’t be moved away from my family meant that you got to “self-promote”, as you liked to call it. But he’s grateful.
Just like he also “respects me as a mother.” Considering the fact that I’m the one that has done all of the parenting I would sure as hell hope you respect that. Not to mention the fact that you run off every weekend to go fuck a whore and play family with her kids, leaving your kids with me. I would hope you respect me as a mother seeing as how you LEFT YOUR FUCKING KIDS WITH ME DURING A STATE OF EMERGENCY DUE TO A HURRICANE! And then again during a blizzard (also after a state of emergency had been called).
It pisses me off when I think of everything he has put all of us through. We all gave up so much for HIM, to make HIM happy. The end result is he didn’t give a shit. It was never enough. My daughter could have been a collegiate athlete; he took that away from her. So HE could be happy. My son is not happy here; he’s given up all of his friends, the one sport he loved to play, and the cello. Again, all for his father’s wishes and desires. My daughter is suffering- frequent migraines, anxiety, possible depression. She has lost her drive. My son is miserable here and wants to go back to YYY state. I left behind friends. I dropped all my activities. For HIM. Because he was unhappy where we were. So I did what I always did and told him we would all go wherever he wanted to go. My mother has said more than once that he couldn’t have left us in any worse financial shape. Seriously- who the fuck puts an expensive inground pool in their backyard and then leaves their family? A selfish asshole, that’s who! He moves us here and now he’s planning on leaving? WTF! It’s like he dropped a bomb on our lives and once we had partially rebuilt them he tosses in a few hand grenades. SURPRISE!
It pisses me off when I think of how he thinks he’s just going to walk away from all responsibilities. He doesn’t worry about who is taking care of the kids. He doesn’t worry about who will watch the dogs when he goes away. Doesn’t give a shit who will watch them if we go away. He isn’t worrying about finding another house in the kids’ school district, or one that will accept pets. Hell, he’s not even concerned about getting our backyard back into shape in order to sell this damn place, and he sure as shit isn’t planning on doing any of the cleaning or chauffeuring dogs around when it’s time to show the house. Nope, he’s free and clear. He’s a bachelor with no kids, no pets, no responsibilities. He’s planning on ME doing all the heavy lifting, just like I always have.
If I think way back to when I found out about him and Harley the first time it pisses me off to think of how *I* was the one who was expected to change and dance for him. Oh, baby, tell me what I can do to make this all better? What do I need to do so you don’t feel the need to seek out other women? Let me know how I failed you so that I may improve. You know who should have had a list of things to work on? You! You should have been the one dancing like mad, trying to woo me and win me back. You should have been doing everything you possibly could have to keep me happy and to make me want you because YOU are the one that fucked up. Not me! Here’s the kicker, folks- I wouldn’t even want him to feel like he had to constantly prove himself to me. I never wanted him to dance for me. But if one of us is going to have a list I think it should be ME presenting a list to HIM. I didn’t cheat. I didn’t lie. Instead he let me know what all *I* could do. Unfortunately, I was so stupid I went along with it. I wanted to save my marriage. I wanted to prevent my kids from growing up with divorced parents. In hindsight I should have kicked his sorry ass to the curb and got on with my life. In YYY state, with my daughter still competing in gymnastics, my son still playing hockey, and me still surrounded by great friends and a support network.
In a similar vein it pisses me off when I think of how he would plead for me to “just leave her alone; let her and her husband work things out for themselves while we work on our own stuff.” Or how he explained the text she sent to him and his wimpy response. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore; he felt bad because he knew he had already hurt her when he picked me. Oh, barf! She was your potential fuck buddy for less than four months. I’d been your wife for over 18 years at that point. He is a liar and a coward and a cheat.
It pisses me off whenever I think about the fact that while he was more than willing to stick up for his whore he refused to stick up for me. I would let him know it bothered me that his family continued to fawn over the dumb whore and his response was always, “I can’t control them,” or “What am I supposed to do? They’re grown adults.” He refused to talk to them about their behavior, instead expecting me to just get over it. And of course, whining about me not wanting to have a relationship with his traitorous family. Even when I could overhear his mom telling him how she wanted to work on her relationship with me he wouldn’t ‘fess up and tell her straight out: Stop interacting with Harley!
It pisses me off every time I think about how he would throw me under the bus with his many fucking lies to anyone who would listen. He was always the victim and he loved to paint me as a heartless, vicious bitch. He never corrected any of the fallacies. Oh no, that might jeopardize his victim stance! He actually had the gall to tell another sister that I filed for divorce and he had no idea why! Um, that’s a lie, but if we’re going to go down this route then might I suggest you read your damn divorce papers? I told you exactly why; I even gave her name and listed her address.
Then he turned around and told this same sister I threw out all of his clothes. Because he never corrects his inaccurate statements I’m sure everyone in his circle still believes to this day that I’ve thrown out all of his clothes despite the fact that they were all nicely hung up in the guest bedroom. You see, Cousinfucker fully intended to remain in the master bedroom, watching TV on the 42” TV, sipping wine, texting his whore while I slept on the couch or in the guest bedroom. He, the cheater, would retreat to his spacious suite all during the week and then on the weekends he would leave to fuck his whore, returning back to the master bedroom sometime Sunday evening or Monday morning. Unfortunately for him he made the mistake of accusing me of stealing “every dime he made”. Picture me as Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”: Big mistake. Huge! I kicked his worthless ass out of the master bedroom; I wheeled his dirty clothes into the guest room and moved all his shit out of the closet that weekend. I think I should get bonus points for actually hanging them up instead of throwing them out onto the lawn.
It pisses me off when I think about HIS MOTHER encouraging Harley to call him. What kind of an idiot encourages her son’s whore to give him a call because he’s “so sad”? Seriously??? Don’t you think maybe that’s something you should be discussing with his WIFE? Oh no! Let’s call up the whore and see if she can work her magic.
It especially pisses me off when I think of her sitting in my kitchen asking me why we aren’t Facebook friends and telling me that she wants our relationship to go back to the way it was when we were so close, talking about how CF and I have been together for 20 years and that’s a long time.
It pisses me off that she can then turn around and write on my daughter’s Facebook page that she loves her with all of her heart even with everything that’s going on and then beg her not to shut her out. YOU CAUSED THIS, YOU DUMB BITCH! Your granddaughter is going through hell because you chose to enlist the help of her father’s whore instead of talking to his wife, her mother. You have condoned this. You’ve welcomed her with open arms. You’ve basically told both of your grandchildren, “Deal with it!”
It pisses me off when I think of *everyone* who has been working behind the scenes to help destroy our marriage. There was his “best friend” who so helpfully told him about my other page. Did he really think that was going to help CF? I mean, I realize I’m just the woman who has lived with him for over 20 years (incidentally, that is longer than anyone else in his life) so as his college roommate he undoubtedly knew CF way better than I did. Let’s fast forward and get to the conclusion: No, it didn’t help. In fact, it put him into a suicidal state. Was the best buddy around for that? No. He had his own life to live. Just let the cold hearted bitch take care of him. He actually had the gall to hug me the last time he saw me, all the while undoubtedly encouraging my husband to trade me in for a newer model.
There was his sister who begged him to leave me, who told him he deserved so much better than me. Where was she when he was in the hospital? Oh, that’s right! She left him with that horrible wife and never bothered to come visit him. At least now she’s not the only one who has cheated and left her spouse for another. Welcome to the club, baby brother!
Going back even further it pisses me off when I think about how he wanted me dependent upon him and how nonchalantly he went about achieving that goal. And it really pisses me off when I think of him wasting 20 plus years of my life, making me dependent upon him, and then discarding me like yesterday’s trash once he has decided he’d rather build a life with his cousin.
If I’m honest with myself this whole situation pisses me off. Being moved 2000 miles across the country, our lives systematically dismantled for his amusement (and happiness, of course; can’t forget his happiness), money poured into a new house, new car, new furniture, new pool, all the things we promised our kids, the lies he told them about this brand new life out here, and then BOOM! Lies, lies, lies. As he blows up our lives completely.
THIS is precisely why I try so hard to take the high road and stuff all of this down. No, not so much stuff it down. I try to let it roll off my back, like water on a duck’s back. This is somewhat ironic because I remember standing in the hair salon with my maid of honor and future sister-in-law, aka Jezebel, the morning of my wedding. We were wearing button down shirts so as to not mess up our hair once it was done. Our hair was brushed but that was all, and no makeup was worn. I let my soon to be sister-in-law go first so my best friend and I were standing around talking. To keep my emotions from welling up and to prevent the tears from falling I kept saying, “I’m a duck. I’m a duck. It’s all like water off a duck’s back.” Who knew that I’d be saying that again at the end of our marriage? Such irony. Can we call that the circle of life? I digress.
I let it all roll off of me, keeping only enough to power me through to do what needs to get done, because if I didn’t I would be consumed by the rage of everything he has done. Voodoo dolls would be the least of his concerns. Another Jedi would fall to the Dark Side. I’ve got kids to raise; I don’t have time for that shit! So… I let it roll off my back and only every now and then do I allow myself to take a moment to dwell on the Dark Side.