bestTrending Topics
Joke Types
0
0
You ever notice how divorce is like that surprise party you never wanted? One day, you're happily married, and the next, you're playing a game of "Who gets the blender?" I mean, who knew household appliances could become the battleground for love and war? I asked my ex, "Can we at least share custody of the coffee maker? I promise I won't keep it out past its bedtime." And don't get me started on dividing up the friends. It's like drafting players for an emotional fantasy football league. "I'll take Jeff, but you get his weird cousin and the neighbor's cat."
It's a tough time, though. Everything is split – the furniture, the bank accounts, and even the DVD collection. Suddenly, I'm left with a copy of "How to Save Your Marriage" while she's got "101 Ways to a Better Single Life." I guess we both had different ideas on how to turn the page.
0
0
So, now I'm back in the dating game after being out of it for what feels like a century. Dating after divorce is like trying to ride a bike again after you've crashed into a tree. You're wobbly, nervous, and hoping you don't end up in another tangled mess. I tried online dating, and it's like shopping for a partner on Amazon. You scroll through profiles, read reviews (which may or may not be accurate), and hope that the one you choose doesn't have a hidden defect. "Used - in good condition, except for that weird thing they do when they eat spaghetti."
And let's talk about the baggage we all carry. It's not just emotional baggage; it's the actual luggage. We should have a dating app filter for how many exes' emotional baggage you're willing to carry. "Sorry, I can only handle one carry-on and a small backpack of unresolved issues.
0
0
They say stress can make you lose weight. Well, let me tell you, divorce has its own version of the "divorce diet." Forget about those fancy diet plans; just sign those divorce papers, and the pounds will start shedding like magic. You've got the "I'm too sad to eat" phase, where every meal feels like chewing on cardboard. Then comes the "I'm going to prove I'm better off without you" phase, where you substitute ice cream with kale smoothies. Spoiler alert: Kale smoothies do not mend a broken heart.
And don't even get me started on the divorce workout routine. It involves a lot of pacing, a few rage-induced sprints, and lifting the heavy burden of alimony payments. Who needs a gym membership when you've got the emotional weightlifting of divorce?
0
0
People throw parties for everything nowadays – birthdays, promotions, even divorces. Yes, divorce parties are a thing. It's like, "Congratulations on ending a chapter of your life! Here's some cake, confetti, and a pinata shaped like your ex's lawyer." I attended one of these divorce parties, and let me tell you, it's a surreal experience. You're surrounded by friends cheering, clinking glasses, and high-fiving, all while a banner overhead reads, "Freedom at Last!" It's like a bizarre blend of a New Year's Eve celebration and a support group meeting.
And the divorce cake? It's the centerpiece of the festivities. You blow out the candles and make a wish – usually something like, "May my ex's new partner be as difficult as they were." It's therapeutic, in a twisted kind of way. Who needs wedding cake when you can have the sweet taste of liberation?
Post a Comment