the ex files

in a perfect universe, your ex would turn butt ugly the day you break up. his forehead will start to increase in square inches and his hair will begin to fall. he will develop adult acne AND bacne, thereby preventing him from ever going to, say, boracay, with his future who-ever. his english will begin to deteriorate, giving him a p-f problem and virtually unable to conduct a proper conversation without mixing his metaphors, using dangling modifiers, and with the correct subject-verb agreement.

and, in a perfect universe, you will never have to see your ex while your hair's unwashed, while wearing fugly glasses and a ratty graying college shirt which used to be white, at 8 in the morning.

clearly, you knoww where this rant is coming from.

because this morning, after i got home from my saturday morning ritual,* as i was about to enter our little enclave in bf, who else wwould be exiting but the pilot.

dear, sweet, gorgeous as hell pilot.

forget the fact that there are rumors swirling about him and the fact that i know in my mind and heart that i don't want him anymore. the pilot, behind the wheel, with a gorgeous smile and a little wave for me as we passed one another was enough to give me a minute coronary.

*sigh*

and, so, as i said, in a perfect universe, he'd be the one looking horrible and i'd be the one oozing with gorgeousness and sex appeal.

and, if god would be so kind, probably while wearing the gorgeous red christian louboutin shoes that greta was wearing over at the buzz last sunday.

*three weeks ago, i began a saturday morning ritual which consists of me going to the 6:45 am mass, having breakfast at jollibee while reading the paper from cover to cover, and taking spike to either the gasoline station for gas or to be washed.