7 ‘Sensitive’ Men Reveal What They’ve Done to Their Wedding Photos After Their Marriage Dissolved
Ever wondered what men do to their wedding photos once the marriage is over? I’ve interviewed 7 men regarding this question and here’s what they had to say (names have been changed to protect the guilty):
John: “I’ve thrown all the photos in the garbage bin.”
Eve Rabi: “You mean in the recycling bin? The paper bin?”
John: Nope. “She was garbage; she didn’t deserve any form of recycling.”
Eve Rabi: “Let me guess – she cheated on you?”
John: “No, I cheated on her.”
Eve Rabi: “You cheated on her and you’re calling her garbage?”
John: “Yup. With her best friend too.”
Eve Rabi: “Christ, John, you are nuts.”
John: “That’s what everyone says.”
David: “I accidentally got a box of wedding pics when we split up. Six months later she wanted them. I thought sweet, she obviously wants to hang onto the memories. It not so easy to get over me, eh? But then she said, ‘I want to show my new guy how thin I was when we got married.”
Eve Rabi: “Oh, that must have been disappointing to you.”
David: “Nah. I sent them back to her.”
Eve Rabi: “That mighty big of you, David.”
David: “After I sprinkled apple juice all over her in the photos.”
Eve Rabi: “You did not!”
David: “I sure did. And it felt damn good.”
Daniel: “Why do you want to know?”
Eve Rabi: “For my blog. I won’t mention your name.”
Daniel: “How much am I going to get paid for that kind of info?”
Eve Rabi: “Ten beer nuts.”
Daniel: “Piss off.”
Vonny: “I have most of them with me because she moved into an apartment and had little space.”
Eve Rabi: “Oh okay.”
Vonny: “But the best ones are damaged now.”
Eve Rabi: “How?”
Vonny: “After she left, I used to look at them and cry. My tears, they ruined the best ones.”
Eve Rabi: “Poor Vonny. It’s great to find a sensitive guy.”
Vonny: “Yeah. Can I get a hug?”
Eve Rabi: “Eh…no.”
Eric: “I’ve given them up for safekeeping. Thought I’ll save them for when our kids grow up. They will want to see how their mum and dad looked in their heyday, right?”
Eve Rabi: “That’s sweet. Where are the photos?”
Eric: “At me mum’s.”
Eve Rabi: “But Eric, didn’t your mum die a couple months ago?”
Eve Rabi: “And didn’t you pay someone to dump everything in her house?”
Eric: “Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Hey, you have some memory.”
Eve Rabi: “You’re a liar Eric.”
Eric: “And? Your point is?”
Richard: “Oh, I have them all over my place.”
Eve Rabi: “That’s refreshing. Why? Your marriage is over, right?”
Richard: “Yeah, but I got hair in those pics. Not like now.”
Eve Rabi: “I see. Kind of vain, isn’t it?”
Richard: “You’re a fine one to talk considering the tonne of make-up you’re wearing.”
Eve Rabi: “Make-up? Tons? What make-up? I woke up like this.”
Eve Rabi: “Seriously, I woke up like this.”
Chris: “My new girlfriend tore them up.”
Eve Rabi: “She did not.”
Chris: “Oh, yeah. She was so jealous. But I got back at her. I dumped her iPhone into a glass of beer.”
Eve Rabi: “You did not!”
Chris: “Then I called the cops on her.”
Eve Rabi: “You did not!”
Chris : “You say that a lot, don’t ya?”
Eve Rabi: “Say what?”
Chris: “‘You did not.’”
Eve Rabi: “Mm.”
And there it is folks. 7 sensitive men open their hearts out to us about their wedding photos.
“Riveting from beginning to end. The twists and turns this book takes are unimaginable. Love it and want more!” Amazon Reader
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Eve Rabi is the best-selling author of 26 romantic crime novels. If you’re bored with vanilla reads, if you long for bold, scandalous, controversial yet romantic stories, you will enjoy reading books by an author who dares to go there. To quote an Amazon reviewer: “When you pick up an Eve Rabi book, forget sleep. She writes gripping page turners that will keep you reading till the very end.”
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I saw Steve Jobs the other night. The movie, not the man.
My opinion of the him?
Much as I understand what an icon he is with all his inventing, founding, marketing and shit; I just didn’t like what I saw of him.
I wanted to like him, really I did, especially since I own an iPhone and other Apple products, and since I’ve heard so much about the genius.
But I hated the way he ignored his friends, treated his pregnant girlfriend and rejected (initially) his daughter.
To me, charity begins at home, and if you can’t be loving and giving to family and friends, not to mention your own child; you deserve to drink vegetable juices for the rest of your days (or apple juice in his case) and be portrayed as Montgomery Burns. (Have you noticed both their hand movements? It’s uncanny, I tell you.)
So, after seeing the movie, I’ve decided to toss out my Macbook Air for a typewriter.
One that hasn’t been founded or made by Apple.
If you know of one, please holler. Money is no object, I have tons of IOUs I can issue:)
PS: I no longer care for Ashton Kutcher either, after seeing him in the role of Steve Jobs, so I’ve decided to delete all my episodes of Punked I’ve pirated from the internet.
PPS: I know a few of you are gonna kick my ass for talking ill about Stevo, but that’s cool. Just take a number and stand in line. While you’re waiting, read my book below if you’re over 18. If you aren’t over 18, ask your mom to buy it. Or your dad. 🙂
Tarago Jakobus was 6’4”, intelligent, extremely wealthy with a Midas touch.
He was also openly racist, politically incorrect and a chauvinistic pig who told offensive jokes.
He loved to party and was used to women vying for his attention.
So when his eyes fell on Tanin, he expected her to just melt into his bed and be grateful that he even looked her way.
To his utter surprise, she was totally unimpressed with his wealth, thought he was an uneducated buffoon and publicly rejected him.
Of course he was shocked and humiliated by her response.
But no woman had ever turned Tarago down before, and he found her fascinating. He became obsessed with her and decided to win her over his way – destroy all that is precious to her, so that she would have no choice but to need him.
If that didn’t work, he’d switch to plan ‘B’ – take away her freedom and throw her ass in jail.
And being the absolute bastard that he was, he did.
“Kan jy Afrikaans praat?”
“No!” I fold my arms across my chest. “I prefer English.”
“Because, sir, Afrikaans is the language of the oppressor.”
“It is also my language. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to continue my surf and turf. Have a good evening.”
As he tries to walk away, I step in front of him and block his path. Opening my purse, I take out two coins and slap them on the table.
He looks at the coins, at my face, and his eyes twinkle.
Furious at his inability to take me seriously, I take out more coins from my purse and slap them in front of him. “Or do you need a note instead of coins? Huh?”
Again, he looks at the coins and smiles.
I open my purse and empty the contents on the table. “Why stop at coins, huh? Take my lipstick, my pens, my keys, my wallet – take everything! Just leave me the f…just leave me alone.”
With a smile, he brushes past me and walks away, leaving me staring after him.
Sarah appears and jerks her thumb towards the door. “Or do you want me to get security?”
Feeling like I’m in a really bad dream, I collect the contents of my bag and make my way out through the back door of the restaurant.
As I leave, I spot Tarago’s Merc parked in a special parking bay. A shiny, silver SLK. Ashwin always admired this car. Said it costs as much as a house. Mm.
I walk over to the stack of liquor bottles waiting to be collected, grab a Johnny Walker blue label and smile to myself. Taking a deep breath, I walk over to his car and slam the empty bottle on the windscreen. Bam! It shatters.
That felt greeeeat!
Damn bottle broke in my hand, though. No problem; I run over to the heap of empty bottles and grab another. Bam! The bonnet buckles. Man, this feels amazing. Why didn’t I do it before?
“What the fok are you doing?” a man screams.
“Stand back!” I warn as I raise the bottle.
He fired me – bam!
He’s evicting us – bam!
He’s lying ’bout me stealing – bam!
He’s an arrogant son of a bitch – bam!
All around the car, I walk and slam bottle after bottle and I feel alive and energized. This is how insanity must feel. What a delicious feeling.
“Sy is mull (She is mad),” someone complains.
I turn and look at the man who said that. When I smile, he shrinks back.
“I most certainly am,” I say, as I lift up the bottle and slam it on the roof of the car.
“You missed a spot.”
I whirl around to look up at Tarago, leaning against the door, eyeing me with crinkling eyes, while everyone around him have their hands on their head or pasted over their mouths.
“No, I didn’t, you racist fucker! I’m saving the bottle for your HEAD!”
“Really now?” His face has a bring-it-on look.
I nod and take a step towards him, bottle raised. He doesn’t move.
Pity the police has to arrive. With all their sirens blaring, they ruin a damn good cathartic session.
Tarago watches with a smile as I am handcuffed and thrown into the back seat of a cop car by a beefy, red-faced arsehole with a badge.
“Kan jy Afrikaans praat?” the cop in the driver’s seat asks.
I fume in silence.
He looks around to me for an answer.
“Just a few words,” I say, maintaining eye contact with him. “Like, FOK JY! (Fuck you!) and jou ma se MOOR! (Your mother’s cunt!) Basics.” I give a mirthless smile.
His eyes narrow. “Got attitude, hey? We’ll see about that. Do you know whose car you fucked up? Hey?”
“Nee, that is Meneer (mister) Jakobus’s vehicle. Taraaaaago Jakobus. You want to mess with an important man like that, hey? You little smart Alex.”
“Alec, you retard,” I mutter.
I fall silent and sit with my lips pressed together. I’m beyond angry now and this cop is wasting his time talking to me.
End of Excerpt
I’ve always loved this song, and when I listened to it today, while I was cooking a healthy stir fry, (okay fine, I wasn’t cooking a healthy stir fry; I was paying for a McDonald’s triple bacon cheeseburger, fries and a shake.) I wondered what the lyrics meant?
I decided to check it out.
During an interview about Set Fire to the Rain, Adele described it as ‘burning’ the pain of heartbreak in order to rid herself of it.
Of course, it’s a song about liberation and triumph — getting over heartbreak, saying adios to a two-faced jerk who said things that were ‘never true’ and who would ‘always win’ at whatever game he played. (Hey, how does Adele know my ex?)
I love it when you have to work out the lyrics, find the meaning of a poignant song, especially a love song.
But I gotta tell you; it comes a lot quicker to you if you’re high. But the danger there, is that while you’re high, you may end up setting fire to the asshole, instead of the rain.
Okay, okay, okay! Strike that, I’m kidding!
Anyho, in Burn’s World, A love Triangle, Burn set fire to the rain’ when she walked away from her first love Brody McGraw.
It was Trojan who ‘rose to claim it’ (her heart, that is, not her ass. Well, her ass too).
Even though he was a street thug who initially only wanted her because she belonged to Brody; he eventually fell in love with her, ‘kissed her lips’ and saved her.
But although Burn loved Trojan, she could never get over her first love, the man who broke her heart, Brody McGraw.
He couldn’t get over her either, and years later, when he returned to to his hometown, he was consumed with jealousy at the sight of Burn and Trojan together and set out to destroy Trojan.
The only way Burn could stop Brody and save Trojan, was to betray Trojan.
Read about Burn’s love triangle, by clicking on the link below:
Oh, and that picture of me on Audi’s billboard? A fan (some may call him a stalker) took my photo from Facebook and worked his magic on it. I’m thrilled, so I thought I’d show off a li’l. 🙂 🙂
Happy to announce that
My Brother My Rival (book 2)
is now available
If you go on holiday to countries like Libya, Iran, Mozambique and Ghana,
it’s illegal to take pictures of most government buildings.
That’s what happened to Payton in Gringa-A Modern-day Love Story.
Except that she was in Mexico, taking photos of sights, (not of buildings) when a cranky drug lord called Diablo, walked
up to her, called her a spy and bust a cap in her ass. (Hopefully, next time she will go somewhere safe. Like Syria.)
Read about Diablo’s beef with her by clicking on the link below:
..unless you’re prepared to go to prison for six years.
Yeah, well, that’s what The Immorality Act in South Africa (Apartheid times) was all about.
The penalty was up to five years imprisonment for the man, four years imprisonment for the woman, and if you were a coloured woman, you’d get six years.
Why six years for Colored women? ‘Cause they were thought to be provoking white males into having intercourse with them.
I kid you not.
Lucky for my family, the act was repelled in 1985.
Betrayed – He’d Get his Girl at Any Cost, is an interracial love story.
Had I written a book of this nature then, my ass would have been thrown in jail.
But right now my ass is safe.
Lucky ass of mine. 🙂
For a limited time, Betrayed is only …99 cents!
So, click on the link below and get your copy.
Go on, click.
Whachu waiting for?