How to divorce a "bad boy": a perspective on the Chris Brown/Rihanna domestic violence arrest

Originally, this post was supposed to be about how to divorce a bad boy. But then this Chris Brown/Rihanna thing happened…
I was in the gym this evening trying to work off the three (that’s right, THREE) marshmallow and rice crispies gooey thingyies I bought at Starbucks (I was upset, darnit, and when I get upset I eat sweets!) when this blog post idea came to me in an epiphany. It happened when I peeked over to the guy who was working out next to me while he was watching Entertainment Tonight, and I heard the story of Chris and Rihanna. (I should say these are all allegations at the moment.)
But needless to say, I was in total shock. I am always in total shock when I hear of a man hitting a woman. I don’t know why that is because it happens so much. But it shocks me everytime. I guess I’ve been one of those lucky women who has never personally had that experience, you know? Of being hit? It is a very foreign thing to me, and I always get unnerved by these stories.
Domestic violence is not funny. Battering a wife or girlfriend is not cool. To me, only cowards beat up on women, you know? I mean, I was there in the gym working out and I looked around at all these guys, some of them with biceps bigger than my thighs, I mean, they are monstrously huge, and I just wondered why would a man find it necessary to hit his woman? And what if a man with biceps that size were to hit me? I just sat there on the leg extension machine looking at these guys and wondering about this. What would I do if I were a woman in this predicament getting hit by my husband, lover or significant other?
Well, actually, I don’t think any man would be crazy enough to hit me. I mean, I would pull out my most intense flying ninja moves, you have no idea. I mean, before the brother could even blink I would be airborne, I’m telling you and I’d be doing spins and twirls in the air and I would be making all these sounds and, like, grunts. I mean, you wouldn’t believe my face as I am coming in for the attack. And when I came back down? When I landed? It would be with my foot in places that I don’t want to mention on this blog cause I would get censored. You understand? But I’m telling you it would be crazy. And I would be standing over him with my face contorted and I would be talking slang which I hardly ever talk. I’d be like, “DON’T YOU EVVAH. EVVAH, HIT ME AGAIN. And when I removed my foot? Parts of his anatomy would literally fall to the floor. I’m serious. And then you know what I would do next? I would roll him up in a sheet and I would drag and pull that sheet and toss him out my apartment so that the door wouldn’t hit him on the way out. And then, you know what I would do next? All his clothes would be piled on top of him as he laid there outside my door.
Then, what would I do next? I don’t know. Obviously, I would leave the country. I would take off. I’d get into a witness protection progam or something. But he would never find me. He would never see me again! Cause that would be it. We would be getting a divorce. Non-negotiable. DONE. CAPUT. OVER. FINITO. FOREVERMORE. You got that?
God, that felt good. Why don’t more women do this? Do the flying ninja, girl. What’s the problem? I bet you this batterer will never, ever hit you or any other woman again…you know who should have done the flying ninja? The wife of the New York Federal Judge. James Peck was it? I forgot her name but she’s 64 and he hit her. She should have flying ninja’d him.
I guess that means I have to remove Chris and Rihanna’s picture from the “In Love” section of Divorce Saloon, huh? Or do you think Rihanna will forgive him and go back for more?
The irony is that I’ve been admiring the relationship that Chris and Rihanna seemed to have. They are both young kids and they seem so cute together and he certainly seemed very clean cut, and sweet, with such a beautiful smile and so gentle, even; he is the last person I would have thought could put his hand to his girlfriend in this manner.