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The rumor went around and got so bad that he had to move out of town. My boyfriend (let's call him Jerkoff) and I had been together for 21 years!

(I did not want to get married, and it worked for us.) At least, it worked until last February.

My best friend and I laughed and cried as we set a match to his precious possessions and watched them go up in flames! I asked him about it since the phone was in his name and he said he would call and find out where it was. He said he called and they were supposed to send out another one.

We waited until they were a mere mound of ashes, which I then collected in a glass jar. So I started getting suspicious and called myself pretending to be his wife and asked about the bill.

I lost six months out of my productive adult life for those witches, whatever misery they ended up with was just good old Karma. I should have listened to his friends when they told me not to get involved with him, but I was young and stupid, and the bad boy seemed appealing.

We had a casual thing going for a short time; when I say casual, it was all on his terms, he was the one who wanted casual.

He always kept the empty one locked and when I wanted to used it to store stuff in it, he suggested the stuff would be safer inside the house. Well, while they were happily picnicking, I hired a bunch of keys from the local locksmith and opened up the 3rd garage. So I spent the rest of the day distributing the boxes to the local orphanage, places of safety and tramps on the street. I was exhausted and somewhat guilty but my over-riding feeling was a mixture of relief and justice. Needless to say, she fell for it, used the product and now has some broken and fried hair! I still have some revenge to get, but haven't gotten all the details worked out on that yet. They just wore designer duds, while they sh*t on me all day because since I had to WORK for a living I MUST be scum.

A few weeks later, he had been out "shopping" again and came home to "fetch his bank card" (which I had seen him take with him) I was planting seedlings in the garden. They couldn't even think of anything for me to do so I read novels all day, while trying to suggest projects that would actually get them off their fat lazy asses (I was supposed to do PR).

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It took all I had not to laugh and with a straight face I said "Why did you think we broke up" and walked away.

I went into the file drawer and completely mixed up every single file, putting each one in a totally different drawer.

On the last day, I went into this cabinet which was in my office across the hall.

Finally after six months, I was depressed, not sleeping, and fed up and decided to leave.

In the week leading up to my decision, I used up as much paper in the copier as I possibly could.

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