Shakitking Strikes Again

That dumb ass ShatAKing, aka the Wall Street Rock Star, tried to post a mean spirited comment about his wife this morning. At least I think it was him. Sounded like an petulant married man trying to justify his adultery by saying his wife is an angry woman.

I'll bet she is angry if he's pretending to be separated and hitting on women on the Internet. Sheesh! What does he expect? He's lucky she hasn't had his balls for breakfast while sitting on top of a pile of money he thinks is his.

There was a time, back during my divorce crazies, when I was exploring the world of AshleyMadison.com for when Monogamy becomes Monotony.  During that time, I ran across Double Wide who had the biggest ass I ever saw on a man.

Double Wide was married with two sons - one at Brown and one about to graduate from High School. He'd been married for years. His wife's photo was in his office. I know because he had me meet him there one evening before we went out to dinner. He was a partner in some little marketing company.

He had numerous complaints about his marriage and just as many tales of his expertise in business. As a trade off for a fancy expense account dinner, it was my job to listen to them as well as to tell him how smart he was. Double Wide wanted to have cybersex with me from his office in the basement of his Westchester contemporary home.

I was never particularly impressed with him because he thought it was a big deal to buy his wife's jewelry at Fortunoff. That seems Amazingly Cheap on his part considering the pudgy, self-absorbed bastard was using his webcam to send me live action video of himself in a red thong. Imagine a big fat ass and bigger jelly belly spilling out of a red thong. I'll never forget that image coming across my old Yahoo IM account complete with the little one eyed snake rearing up to spit a load.

The things that can come into your house now with the advent of the Internet is really amazing. Shout out to Al Gore for thinking it up, although I'm not sure cybersex is what he had in mind.

Double Wide told me he masturbated next to his wife in bed every night, leaving the sheets wet, because she wouldn't have sex with him. No wonder she wouldn't. She was probably holding out for Cartier - and it was going to be a long, damn wait.

These were the sort of distractions I arranged for myself while trying to get divorced from Buzz Kill. I pretended to like Double Wide - even to myself . What the hell - Buzz Kill was watching Star Gate reruns for hours at a stretch. We were both cordially ignoring each other so we could peacefully co-exist.

According to his best friend from grade school, Double Wide was probably a sex addict and addicted to Internet porn.  Double Wide had arranged for me to communicate with his friend because he had a fantasy.  When the friend told me the tale of wild nights that he and Double Wide had with a female who lives in Las Vegas, I put the kibosh on said fantasy tout de suite.

The truth is that head exploded. That was all cool, though, because I could displace all that anger which should have landed on Buzz Kill due to marital dysfunction right onto Double Wide's big ass. Despite a few tears, I thought my coping mechanisms were brilliant. And as a result of that experience, I was a little wiser when I ventured onto Plenty of Fish.

In any case, the point is that ShatAKing must be cognitively impaired in addition to deluded and arrogant if he thinks I'm allowing him to justify his foolishness on the blog. I might feel differently if his last version of the Plenty Of Fish profile had not been dominated by some lonesome Bruce Springsteen lyrics in a transparent attempt to seem sensitive. He didn't even revise the rest of his statements to seem less impressed with his sexual accomplishments, which in my view, thoroughly undermined the sentiments of the song. Given his bravado, I'm betting whatever he accomplished was mostly in his own mind, all alone with some cyber friend in his own basement office. We can only hope he didn't have on string bikini briefs.

The few pages concerning him in the archives have been visited so many times and from so many locations that it looks like someone sent the link around to her friends and family. I figure having the posts on hand suited her purposes, so I sit here looking at the Analytics statistics, speculating on the unfolding drama in the suburbs. It's sort of poetic justice when someone can see that a myth he tried to perpetrate via Internet dating - that he's a sophisticated, wealthy, misunderstood romantic looking to spread his sensual bliss around the breathlessly waiting women of New Jersey - has backfired and now some bitch in her pajamas is making fun of him on her little blog.

But hey - that's what happens to a married man who tries to leave an anonymous comment about his wife on Menopausal Stoners.