Kiss The Cook

It appears J-Fed has been doing a lot of soul searching lately. The presence of a new man in his old woman's life has left him feeling a bit miffed. While I had long predicted this is how he would react, I'm still a little stunned by just how irritated he's become. I'd be amused if I didn't find it so tiresome.

Basically, it's an ego thing with J-Fed. I almost picture him scratching his ass and beating the ground with a club saying "Kiki get no man. No man get Kiki. Kiki must want J-Fed forever. Kiki property. Man bad." His reaction has been neandrothalic in my humble opinion. But what the hell do I know? Apparently not so much. After all, I did spend the last 10 years with that jerk.

Now that he no longer has me under his paw, he's been sinking to a new level. How low can he go? I'm sure I'll find out in due time. In the interim, I can't believe the line of crap he's continuously feeding me. And the irony lies in the fact that he doesn't want me back, he just doesn't want me with anyone else. Well, people in hell want ice water. But what we want and what we get are two very different things.

So just the other day, he decided to say something, something meaningful, something that he believed would tug on the strings of my icy, black heart.

"I really miss your cooking," he muttered.

Oh, okay. You don't miss lying in bed next to me. You don't miss the way I cared for you. You don't miss my intellect. You don't miss my warmth. You don't miss me, but you miss my cooking? Did I hear you right? Because when you were speaking J-Fed, all I really heard was "cough cough bullshit cough cough."

He misses my cooking. For some strange reason I have a really hard time believing that, in the same way I have a hard time believing that he didn't leave me for T.O.W. (the other woman). Like most people with eyes and ears, I don't have a problem deciphering the truth between the lies.