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You know, communication is key in any relationship. But when you're dealing with an ex-husband, it's more like a game of deciphering ancient hieroglyphics. I get these cryptic texts like, "We need to talk," or "Can we meet for coffee?" And I'm sitting there, decoding like I'm in a spy movie. "Is this a trap? Should I wear a disguise?" And don't even get me started on the emojis. Emojis are the modern-day hieroglyphics. My ex sends me a thumbs up, and I'm like, "Is that a good thumbs up or a sarcastic thumbs up?" I need an emoji translator. "Your Honor, exhibit A: the winky face. Clearly, he was up to something.
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So, my ex-husband thinks he's some kind of secret agent, leaving me with all these mysterious files – the "ex-files." I found them hidden in the garage, like he's James Bond or something. But instead of top-secret government stuff, it's just old receipts and a manual for a lawnmower. Yeah, real spy material there. And let's talk about the division of assets during a divorce. It's like negotiating a peace treaty between two countries. "I'll take the TV, you can have the toaster, and let's call it even." But you always end up fighting over the weirdest things, like who gets custody of the Netflix account. "Your Honor, I just want to binge-watch without any interruptions!
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So, my ex-husband fancies himself a handyman. You know the type – the guy who thinks he can fix anything with duct tape and a prayer. I remember one time he tried to fix the leaky faucet. Result? The kitchen turned into a water park. I'm standing there in my bathrobe, water everywhere, thinking, "Well, at least he tried." But here's the thing about ex-husbands and DIY projects – they always leave you with a mess to clean up. It's like, "Congratulations, you fixed the shelf, but now there's sawdust in every crevice of the house." Maybe I should have known our marriage was doomed when he said, "I do" and tried to fix the church organ with a wrench.
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You ever notice how they call them "ex-husbands" like they're expired or something? Like, "Oh, sorry, my warranty ran out on that one." My ex-husband, he's like a bad GPS – always telling me to turn the wrong way. "Recalculating route to happiness." Yeah, thanks for that. And you know what's interesting? Divorce is the only time you're allowed to celebrate a failed relationship. People throw divorce parties. Imagine that for anything else. "Hey, I just got fired, let's pop some champagne!" No, doesn't work that way. But with divorce, it's like, "I'm free, let's throw a party!" Maybe we should start celebrating other failures in life. "Failed my diet again, let's have a cake party!
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