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Abstract

rs of misery, such as would ensue were I to call off the divorce.My ill-conceived plan? Marry Dick #2.And so, I married Dick #2, barely a year thereafter.Suffice it to say, I didn’t make the same mistake.I digress.Back to October 1996.Dick #1 comes to fetch the kids and is most displeased to encounter Dick #2 on “his” doorstep.Dick #1 swipes and knocks off D!(k’$ cap.Dick #2 files a complaint of assault.Fast forward to December 1996.I’m pissed. Dick #1 has been refusing to retrieve his collection of National Geographic from the basement. I’m trying to sell the house and I’ve warned him three times to come and get it before I toss it.So, I get Dick #2 to drag the six sacks of moldering magazines up the stairs and out to the sidewalk in time to greet the trash truck.Dick #1 files suit

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against Dick #2 for destruction of property. Payback, he says, for the assault suit.Six weeks or so later, the Dicks and I are in small claims court for the hearing.The judge has dozens of cases on the docket; cutting to the chase, he tells each Dick, in turn, to state his piece.Dick #1 says Dick #2 threw out his priceless(than-zero) collection.Dick #2 says he hauled out Hefty Bags of who-knew-what.The judge turns to me and asks if I have anything to add.I give him a bit of backstory, then tell him Dick told me he filed this lawsuit as revenge.The judge turns to Dick and asks if what I say is true.He sheepishly affirms my words, then lamely attempts to justify himself.The judge swipes the case papers off his desk.After which, per His Honor’s request, the Dicks and I get the he(( out of this courtroom, G#dd@m!t!</article></body>

Case Dismissed!

Complainant and company follow suit

**Photo by Tingey Injury Law Firm on Unsplash**

In October 1996, within two weeks of my split with Dick #1, I became euphemistically involved with Dick #2.

What was I thinking?! You may rightly, rhetorically, wonder.

As to your non-question:

I wasn’t thinking, on account of being out of my f#(k!ng mind.

The tortuous chambers of my cerebral cortex construed a most un-genius plan to preclude my reprising my marital mistake. That is, “reprising” in the sense of suffering through another 17… and another 17… years of misery, such as would ensue were I to call off the divorce.

My ill-conceived plan? Marry Dick #2.

And so, I married Dick #2, barely a year thereafter.

Suffice it to say, I didn’t make the same mistake.

I digress.

Back to October 1996.

Dick #1 comes to fetch the kids and is most displeased to encounter Dick #2 on “his” doorstep.

Dick #1 swipes and knocks off D!(k’$ cap.

Dick #2 files a complaint of assault.

Fast forward to December 1996.

I’m pissed. Dick #1 has been refusing to retrieve his collection of National Geographic from the basement. I’m trying to sell the house and I’ve warned him three times to come and get it before I toss it.

So, I get Dick #2 to drag the six sacks of moldering magazines up the stairs and out to the sidewalk in time to greet the trash truck.

Dick #1 files suit against Dick #2 for destruction of property. Payback, he says, for the assault suit.

Six weeks or so later, the Dicks and I are in small claims court for the hearing.

The judge has dozens of cases on the docket; cutting to the chase, he tells each Dick, in turn, to state his piece.

Dick #1 says Dick #2 threw out his priceless(than-zero) collection.

Dick #2 says he hauled out Hefty Bags of who-knew-what.

The judge turns to me and asks if I have anything to add.

I give him a bit of backstory, then tell him Dick told me he filed this lawsuit as revenge.

The judge turns to Dick and asks if what I say is true.

He sheepishly affirms my words, then lamely attempts to justify himself.

The judge swipes the case papers off his desk.

After which, per His Honor’s request, the Dicks and I get the he(( out of this courtroom, G#dd@m!t!