nick, this is 100% all your fucking fault 🔥💀

aka: just vibing and venting before homework
and my kid waking the fuck up.
aye.

—

bro.
let me walk you through
what the fuck
just happened to my life.
because now that the smoke’s clearing
and my blood pressure’s fucking stabilized,
i’m looking around like—
wait a fucking second.
stfu.
did i just get
legally,
emotionally,
fucking financially,
and sexually
goddamn ambushed?!
by a group of underqualified background characters???
who literally wouldn’t have gotten
within 30 swipes of my husband
if we were on fucking hinge?

nah.
fucking cool. 💀

because
i’m talking like
not even in the same swipe rotation.
not even in the same fucking zip code of desirability.

ok.

so?

✨highly disrespectful shit.✨

this entire fucking operation?
wasn’t even run by professionals
yo—
straight financial fucking clownery.
these are not women who would’ve
been anywhere near my spouse
if he wasn’t
unemployed,
zonked the fuck out,
and drooling for fucking validation.

baby.
like damn—
they are not hot.
they are not interesting.
they are not smart.
they are not successful.
they are, at best,
below-average-tier Bumble swipes
who finessed their way into
a name-tag and a conference room
and thought that meant they could play fucking wife?!!

this wasn’t about love.
this wasn’t even about sex.
this was about access to someone
they knew was out of their fucking league
but had just hit an orchestrated rock bottom—
and they fucking dog-piled him.
not because they liked him.
nahh—
because they could control us.
like i was the dumb bitch in the equation.

but…
really imagine this with me rn—

you’ve already survived
enough shit
to fill a whole fucking crime anthology.
✨ child abuse.
✨ sexual assault.
✨ domestic violence.
✨ then a fucking miscarriage, for shits.

and still—
you’re bad.
you’re booked.
you’re spiritually hotter
than god’s favorite fucking angel.

your best friend is
an industry-wide known fucking brand.
babe!
acceptance + scholarship for law school!
your businesses? elite.
your passport? violated.
your brand? immaculate.
your ethics?
forged in fucking hell
and still holier than the entire fucking finance industry.

🔥💀

and when the miscarriage hits?
baby,
you mourn that shit
ethically
in a goldman sachs exec’s house,
because even your fucking grief
has a motherfucking bad bitch reputation,
and some goddamn morals.
ok—
that’s the starting point.
that’s the beginning.

and so—

the bar fucking drops
through the goddamn floor.

and now let’s fast-forward.
barely a fucking year later—
you are suddenly:
pregnant again
with a fraudulent fucking husband,
trapped in a pyramid scheme run by the d-squad™—
a literal group of
underqualified goblins in horrendous attire
who—
i now realize,
are all fucking
✨ younger than me✨
so that energy??
nah,
shit was off—
giving death wish
straight fucking revenge??
for having never even been
in the prior fucking dating rotation
like ever??

nooooooo.

—

okay,
but be serious.
with all intended disrespect—
these are not baddies.
these are not girls
who walk into a room
and get noticed.
these are HR-core old navy flops
goddamn goblins
who get chronically
left on “sorry i fell asleep”
and cry about it into a fucking
pumpkin cream cold brew.

but suddenly??
thanks to the illusion
of financial clout
and access to a guy who’s hot-ish,
overtly spiraling,
and visibly fucking breaking—
they form a little anguished cult.
and what’s the prize?
fucking up my life.

because
that’s what happened.
these girls didn’t “mentor” him.
omg.
they didn’t “coach” him.
that was all bullshit??
wasn’t it?
they studied his fucking vulnerabilities
like a weak fucking prey animal
and set up
an addiction-assisted gangbang
of my family’s fucking future????!

—

and the ringleader?
✨oh my god✨
i thought she had
some level of superiority—
thought this bitch was easily 45.
like maybe she was an exec??
maybe she was corporate??
kinda a bitch??
just because,
she takes zero fucking shit??

✨babe!✨

naaah—
bitch.
i just googled her.
this chick is…
younger than me???????
hasn’t been there—
a single fucking decade??
(lol shit, my bad. girl—moisturize)
but like,
zero real fucking authority?????
because homie is
a complete
and whole-ass—
✨independent fucking contractor?!✨
zero fucking mandated
weeks in office?????
but she’s out here??
scheduling my husband
for full-day in-office “mentorship”
?????
while i’m
eight months pregnant?
fucking throwing up blood,
and he’s showing up to the “office”
to do what???
get sucked off in the parking lot?

✨holy shit.✨
this whole thing was a fucking con.

so some
never felt quite likable—
thirty somethings,
could do fucking blow???
and redistribute my 40+ stolen adderall????
and shoot their goblin shot at my husband??
as he flunked out of the reserves???
and ran through
my motherfucking life savings?!!!

are you fucking serious????

naaaah.
nope.
that’s fucking insane.

like—
bitch,
holy shit
you are a co-worker.
a parallel independent business??
the fuck???
you are not his boss?
this is not a fucking job.
this was a sorority full of
mid white girls who fucking failed rush
and decided to run a frat house
with a fucking 401k vesting schedule.

—

jesus christ.
i didn’t get fucking hustled.
i got induced into underwriting
a goddamn death spiral
how did that motherfucker pass his piss test???
for the policies—
y’all fucking endorsed??? huh??
yo,
they let these weirdo girls
take shifts at a man
who should’ve been in fucking rehab.

i got fucking played.✨
and y’all need to be fired.✨
like the exploitative-ass
financial careers??

babe.

that shit?

✨should be fucking over.✨

because,
seriously—
when they were done,
they launched my financial records
off a fucking cliff
and kept stalking me
on goddamn socials
like
i’m the delusional one??

✨

bro.
truly—
y’all are terrifying
y’all are dangerous.
you almost got us killed,
for what??
women this pathetic,
and desperate—
are fucking risky as fuck.

so—
guess what??
my ex??
the baby i lost??
nick? 🔥💀
i swear to fucking god.
this is absolutely all your fucking fault.
you were the original motherfucker
roleplaying
that bullshit—
love of my life✨
but nah,
i miscarried that baby in 2022
and instead of staying the fuck down??
and grieving like a normal bitch??
i tried to “choose fucking love.”
that’s what you told me to fucking do.
said i would find the dude,
that’s amazing,
kind and loving???
and this is what fucking happened.
i got knocked up
by a trained assassin
and potential cokehead in training???
who got pimped the fuck out
by a discount
miss congeniality cast?!!?
at a highly forgettable fucking
insurance firm?!?!?!

no, why??

yo.
and now i’m out here
doing forensic fucking accounting
in a fucking trauma burn book.

every girl in that office
owes me child support,
fucking damages,
and a mental health copay.

times a million.

this wasn’t “adultery.”
this wasn’t fucking “mentorship.”
this was career-themed girl math
seemingly mixed with sexual predation
on an addict
who belonged in a fucking detox ward—
and the only reason
they got close
is because they knew
i wouldn’t be allowed in the fucking room.

but now
i’m in the fucking courtroom.
with a true fucking shithole of
a fact pattern—
a goddamn timeline.
and every fucking name.

congrats,
ladies.
you made it into
✨the sorority.✨
but,
look around—
it’s for badly aging
and blatantly useless
cubicle compliance twats✨

fucking bummer.