Interior Decorating (For Those Who Loved You)

"I cried and screamed, I went to the bathroom and threw up."

-- Elizabeth Edwards, who (if she's anything like us) will never hear "Me And Mrs. Jones", or any other breezy song about adultery - which are regularly played on American radio - the same way again, even if it's on ABC News.

We wonder if anyone's going to write Elizabeth Edwards and demand she "move on" from this?

Is anyone going to tease her for being made into a cuckold?

Is anyone going to tell her to shut up?

Or that this shit "happens all the time" and she should just grow up?

Will they make fun of her potential nightmares for years to come? (We just had two in two-nights-in-a-row about it, almost four years after the fact,...)

Will they hold her in contempt?

Probably not - because most understanding, today, is limited to women's problems. Right and wrong doesn't even come into it - though it does "cum" into it - right, Bill?

We, here, at The Macho Response have been told all the ugly things above, for writing about how Karine Anne Brunck's NewAge adultery with that murderous quack, "Dr." Robert Wohlfahrt, affected us after they killed Karine's mother,...and 20 years of marriage.

It's like these people are too cold hearted to accept that adultery harms innocent people - so these assholes are moved to defend it, though they know it's wrong: NewAgers can't begin to realize how what they do affects spouses and non-believers. You just don't do this shit.

Along with the killings, here's what made it even worse in our case:

Karine Anne Brunck knew how it would it would affect us. That evil cuss, Doti Boon ("The California Psychic") told her it hurt husband's deeply to discover a wife's adultery, but that didn't stop Karine. The bitch is evil.

And she needs help.

And so do she, and "Dr." Wohlfahrt's, supporters.

Sing In My Ear (And Tell Me You Hate Me)

One of the worst things about being a divorced musician is there are too many times when I can't listen to music now - something I would've thought impossible a couple of years ago. I shy away from love songs especially, which I adore, but now they mock the feelings I had, making me feel like a fool for having loved at all. (Corny as it sounds, I used to serenade my spouse with impromptu versions of Hank Williams's You Are My Sunshine, and The Ink Spots's I Dont Want To Set The World On Fire, fairly regularly.) Most songs just have too many memories wrapped up in them, now, to be enjoyable. And the idea that she'll forever hear certain songs, and remember how much I loved her, gives me no comfort after she's crushed the whole thing like so many spent cigarettes.

Having it all come down around my ears because of adulterous interference, inspired by new age "beliefs", and "feelings" - and not by anything I actually said or did - is another thing that makes the listening difficult now as well, don't ask me why. (Or, maybe, it's my ex having sex with someone else - coupled with her mother's dead body - I don't know.) All I do know is, if I never hear Love and Rockets's Kundalini Express again, it'll be fine with me. The same thing goes for Me And Mrs Jones by Billy Paul. Both songs now only remind me of how the most awful things can be dressed up to look appealing: One about going completely out of your mind from meditation and the other about two people betraying those they, long ago, convinced to love them. Man, how did I miss that before?

I must have been too in love to notice.

That's why I'm now living: