What Would the Queen Do?

In the past two weeks, I’ve cut a path of destruction through my personal life that would be the envy of the world’s leading despots.

So, what have I done?

The details really aren’t important. I didn’t kill anyone, or cause physical harm in any way. But I did create a messy emotional whirlpool that has sucked in several innocent bystanders.

Why? Oh, God, who knows?

The best explanation I have is that I turn 44 tomorrow, so maybe it’s a midlife crisis. Oh, maybe I’m just an asshole.

What am I going to do to clean up this mess?

Behave like an adult, of course. Face the issues head-on. Resolve them with compassion, bravery, and honesty.

Just kidding.

Actually, this is how I’m going to deal with it: I’m leaving the country in hopes that things will work themselves out while I’m gone. I barely can wait to get an ocean between my problems and me.

Tomorrow afternoon, I’m running away. I’m getting on a plane to England, where I hope to learn the lessons of reinventing one’s self after very bad behavior.

I find it helpful to look at bad behavior throughout history in order to make me feel better about myself. Looking to the Brits, they have a long, storied history of bad behavior. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

You need look no further than the history of the British monarchy, which is rife with tales of tossing unwanted wives into towers, cutting off the heads of used-up mistresses, and sleeping with anyone who happened to catch your eye that particular day.

They were nasty, nasty people, and yet, after more than 1,000 years of awful behavior, the British public still loves them.

Just look at what happened to poor Diana. Basically, they killed her. And what a loss that was! She was hot, and, therefore, a very active member of my fantasy life. But, once she died, I was forced to stop dreaming up inventive, romantic interludes with her on the lonely moors.

Diana was dead, so imagining a complicated yet satisfying sex life with her would have been too weird even for me. I, like millions of others, was denied the release of fantasizing about having sex with her.

Yet, the British Royal Family got off scot-free. The Queen slipped under the car, and snipped the brake lines. Now, she’s enjoying her highest popularity ever. Prince Charles tossed Diana to the curb, and married a craggy-faced, much older, much less hot woman (which I secretly admire him for). He’s going to be the next King.

So, given all this, am I really that bad? Nah!

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