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RELEASED INTO THE WILD

www.DivorcedGuy.com has a link to the blog.  For some reason or another, they feel my material is relevant to their content.  To really help them out, I’m going to put out a couple pieces geared specifically to the recently divorced.

So, you’ve just gotten a divorce.  Congratulations or condolences; whichever salutation fits your situation.  Years have been spent in captivity.  I’m sure you are a little confused about your current surroundings.  Obviously you are befuddled about survival in the wild.  Don’t worry, Uncle Rusty will be your Sherpa, your rabbi, your tour guide into the great unknown.

DATING:

Are you kidding?  I know your instinct as a formerly captive animal is to return to the safe confines of female companionship.  You are wrong.  You are screwed up.  You need to learn to fend for yourself before you even think about such things.  Besides, your poor from paying child support and alimony payments.  You can’t afford to date.

FREEDOM:

When Uncle Rusty’s cage was opened, I ran roaring and snarling into the forest, ready to do everything my wife hadn’t allowed.  My first tragic encounter was food.  I went to KFC and bought a big bucket of extra crispy and extra large cole slaw.  I then ran to the store for a whole German Chocolate cake and a sixer of Dos Equis.  I got home and began an epic food orgy.  

I soon realized why men cannot be left to fend for themselves.  I ate and ate and ate.  The carbs, fat and alcohol soon took over.  I was in so much pain.  But, much like a heroin addict, I could not stop.  I kept chasing that dragon.  I finally ended up comatose on the floor with a drumstick in one hand and a hand full of cake in the other.

LIVING ACCOMODATIONS:

Welcome to the sad depression of divorced guy apartments.  You moved in believing you would lounge around the pool and pick up on all the local hotties.  It’s not going to happen.  Your legs haven’t seen the sun in years.  You’ll spend on afternoon on the pool deck and scare children with the glare off your alabaster skin.  After a couple hours, you’ll end up in the burn unit from the damage the sun has inflicted.  The pool will never be visited again.

I was lucky when I moved into my own place.  My little sister supplied me with plenty of old dishes and cooking utensils.  I was working for a beer distributor and raided the warehouse for pint glasses and pitchers.  My wife not only wanted a husband upgrade, she also wanted new furniture.  I was lucky I didn’t have to use lawn furniture or scour garage sales. 

Avoid putting up any artwork.  I ended up with my old posters I found in my parents’ attic.  Although I enjoyed my Pink Floyd and Farrah Fawcett posters, it just didn’t work.

SURVIVAL:

You’re going to be miserable.  But, through great suffering comes great knowledge.  Someone really smart said that.  I think it was Steve Carell.  I can’t remember.  Don’t worry.  Things will get better.  In the mean time, embrace your melancholy.  You can be productive by writing country songs or volunteering at the suicide hot line.

One day you’ll decide you don’t want to be sad anymore and the healing will begin.  You’ll start doing stupid things and the world will seem a little better. 

To help the healing, I took a trip with four friends to Cancun.  We stayed at a European style resort.  There’s nothing like being rejected by large, topless Romanian women to get your game back in shape.  I plan on going back again, as soon as the restraining orders expire.

Good luck.  It’s going to get better.  You’re going to survive.  You will probably end up wiser and happier.  Just avoid the natives with poison spears.