Op-Ed: Kim And Kanye Are Headed For Divorce, And I’m Headed To The Bathroom To Pass This Kidney Stone
The writing is on the wall, folks. And the proof is in the pudding. Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are spiraling towards a divorce. And I’m spiraling towards the bathroom to pass this tennis ball of a stone. Boy howdy.
It’s no secret that Kanye West has been positively out of pocket. With his MAGA tirades, socially daft opinions, and ignorant rants—he’s quickly become a cringe-y mess. A totally different man from the one Kim married years ago. The majority of the nation would even back her up in a divorce. She wouldn’t go through it alone. Unlike me, solitary, sweating in this Applebee’s trying to survive this heifer coming down the pipes.
People are convinced that Kim has been dropping clues in episodes of her reality show Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Die hard KUWTK fans have noted that Kim’s constant disappointment with Kanye and her always airing their fights is just lessening the blow, preparing the world for the inevitable split. But when I think of split, at this very moment, sweating and pale at this urinal, I ain’t thinking about divorce, ladies and gentleman. This big boy has been cultivating mass in my kidneys since Memorial Day and now it’s ready. My doctor diagnosed it as, “A rock so big it’ll make Dwayne Johnson retire.” Now I don’t know if that’s medically accurate but let's just say if my kidney stone had 23andMe results it’d be 50% Samoan, 50% asteroid and 100% not a good time.
But perhaps a divorce between Kim and Ye is a good thing. For the both of them. Kim needs stability in her life. She’s been trying to settle down for quite some time. And Kanye, to be frank, needs a wake up call. I’m reminded of how much he changed directions following the passing of his mother. And while I certainly don’t wish death on anybody, maybe Kim leaving his life will show him the error of his ways. A little self reflection goes a long way. And you know what else goes a long way? Drinking a lot of water. And not drinking a liter of Faygo a day because it’s cheap as hell and “not too bad if you drink it really fast.” Now look at me—3pm in an empty Applebee’s wishing to god I sprung for the pack of Fiji water. Or even just waddled my ugly ass to get some tap water now and then. C’est la vie. Or to borrow a different more apropos French phrase, “Oui oui oui my dick hole looks like a gunshot exit wound.”
All this to say, hang in there Kim. You’ll come out the other end just fine. Not unlike… well… I gotta go.