A/N: Kennedy's apology was bomb. Cody's Santino impression was…let's just say I kind of injured myself by falling over backwards and smacking my head on the wall from laughing so hard…
King Kennedy…Kennedy? I hope so. That would be better than Cryme Tyme selling Charlie Haas's mask. Word to Vinnie Mac.
Men aren't supposed to hate sluts. We are supposed to cherish them and treat them with the utmost respect.
Well, with as much respect as we treat toilet paper. Use them once, dirty them up, then toss 'em.
But I already told you that I hate everything. Sluts are no exception.
Emma is a slut, therefore I hate her. She could be a porn star and I'd still hate her.
Then again, she might be a porn star or might have once been a porn star. With a whore like that, I don't know. I don't know what she's been doing with her life since I last saw her. Granted, I saw her like two days ago for five seconds, thus prompting this current angry outburst I'm currently going through.
I hate being angry.
Before that little incident two days ago, I hadn't seen her in three years. Three fucking years of peace and fucking quiet, but then little miss skank fest comes in and ruins it.
I hate peace and quiet.
It's not like she was just some ring rat to start out with. Okay, so she was just some ring rat to start off with. She was a ring rat turned WWE Diva. She was a less glorified version of Kelly fucking Kelly.
I hate Kelly fucking Kelly.
She just posed in ugly pictures for horny old men all the time. She hogged all the television time because she was just "so beautiful." I don't see what all the fuss was about. It's not like she's Megan Fox or something like that. She's just a woman, damnit.
I hate women. They're so…retarded.
Permanent PMS much?
Yeah, Emma was pretty much that in a nutshell. And let me tell you, she was pretty damn nutty. What kind of a freak signs a contract for something they know nothing about?
Okay, I guess the kind of freak that would do that is a freak that's obsessed with making easy money.
One more thing, Emma was definitely easy.
I suppose I really shouldn't be saying such things about Emma. There's something huge about that girl that I hate thinking about. And I mean it's huge.
I hate having conscious memories.
We were in Vegas, and what happens in Vegas certainly does NOT stay in Vegas.
A couple pulls of the slot machines and a few blackjacks later…
I still shudder to think about it.
Oh, have I mentioned that Emma is my ex-wife?