The Gardener

Hello Green Asshole,

I am thrilled to inform you that your new name is Green Asshole. I will no longer be referring to you as "Jeff" because "Jeff" was the lovely man that I wasted two years of my life on, and my therapist has instructed me that I should imagine all the obstacles in my life as super villains that I now have to defeat in my quest for self-love and acceptance. She asked me to give each super villain a name, a special power, and to identify the way in which I could defeat them in battle.

You have been christened the Green Asshole. Your special power is the ability to ruin lives, soak up youth, kill tender spirits, and garden. Yes, I now feel comfortable telling you that I hated your garden. You never grew anything in it for me. You grew oregano, which makes me splotch. I'm convinced you did this because you liked it when I was splotchy because then I didn't want to have sex with you, and you were free to jerk off to pictures of Abigail Adams in our hall closet.

Yes, Green Asshole, I know all about your First Lady fixation. You're the only man I ever knew that wanted to go to the Betty Ford center just to see if there were any photos of her on the walls.

You're a sick man, but luckily I have discovered the way to defeat you.

I'm going to light your garden on fire. As soon as the meeting I'm in is over, I'm going to drive to your house--the house you refused to share with me, but agreed to share with rutabagas--and set your splotch-causing oregano aflame. When you pull into your driveway, it will not be tomato sauce you think you smell, but the destruction of the devil patch that tormented me throughout our relationship.

I don't care if you report me to the police. There isn't a jury in the world that would convict me once I show them the naked playing cards I found in your drawer. The things Dolly Madison is doing in those pictures would make a serial killer vomit.

I would ask you not to contact me anymore, but since you've already blocked me on almost every website we belong too, I don't see how that would be necessary.

Forgive me for not writing more, but I still have to send out letters to my former boss (Memo Man), my ex-best friend Shelly (The Secret Spiller), and my mother (Queen of the Dead).

If I'm in a good mood, I may save you a tomato...but don't count on it.

Sincerely,
Mega-Bitch