Camel Toad Productions

Dearest Dear

Hi. Or should I say, Heil; because you obviously only married me to live out some sick fetishistic Nazi roleplaying fantasy in which you make an innocent Jew’s (Me) life a living hell.

Where to begin?

I distinctly remember asking you to run by Target and pick me up a pair of Justice League pajama pants as the pair I already owned were well past wearability. Now I make no claims at being a fashion guru or anything, but even I could see that these pants had reached the end of their natural life-span. “Sure, honey” was your response. And shame on me… I believed you. For some reason I thought the years of loyal devotion and adequate to “s’alright” lovemaking had earned me the respect and trust I so strive to give to you. Well, Frau Von Shnitzlen (Your new nickname). You win. You cold heartless bitch. You win.

I returned home from my weekly “walkabout” which I make sure to schedule at a time that doesn’t interfere with my familial obligations; because I’m that kind of man, only to find a Target shopping bag sitting on the kitchen counter. “Hurray” I foolishly thought to myself. “My beloved beloved has come through again!”. I eagerly tore my pants off (and let’s not kid ourselves- they were half-way off anyway) and rushed to the bag to try on my brand new Justice League pajama bottoms only to find.—…

Superman Pajama Bottoms.

What the FUCK is wrong with you?!? Do you have any kind of a heart left in that contorted by hate shell you call a body?!?! Superman IS NOT the Justice League! AND I KNOW YOU KNOW THAT! I TELL YOU ALL THE TIME!!! All the “pop quizzes” I give you at dinner- The flashcards-.- What do I even try for? Why do I even bother? Don’t you think If I wanted Superman pajama bottoms I’d just buy them on my own? If we’re being totally honest, I really only wanted the Justice League pants for Martian Manhunter; who doesn’t have his own merchandize but I didn’t think you needed to know that. I didn’t think it was any of your business (which is the business of hating Matt, apparently). Did you even look for Justice League pajama bottoms, or is this some kind of twisted modern day mob message?

I am at a loss.

So in summation; I think I want a divorce. And yes, I found a pair of unworn Justice League pajama bottoms wadded at the back of the dresser like you said would be there, and yes- the Superman pants are pretty awesome; but it’s the principle. If I can’t trust you to know the difference between one Superman and an entire Justice League, how can I trust you to know the difference between apple juice and liquid cyanide (which you know I insist on keep in stock at all time) when feeding our hypothetical child?

P.S- Can you grab another pair of these Superman pants on your way home tonight? These bad boys breathe!

-Matt Cohen Esq. (Self Ordained)

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