This is a fictional story told by Max J. Clayton.

Ooooh, the first wife. I’ll never be free from her. We did vows under the name of a goddess, doing our marriage in Wiccan fashion.

We never did get the ritual we needed for a divorce. As far as the goddess is concerned, we’re still married, and that bitch is rich.

I looked her up using an F.B.I buddy to look into her and where she went in the Air Force. Red flags went up like mad and I fucked up her life.

He couldn’t find her name, and it’s as is if she was never there. Black ops, or her parents were that fucking loaded they could make her dissappear.

Anyway, I changed my name several times because of the assassination attempts on my life. 

I really pissed her off.

Never underestimate my ability to piss anyone off. Used to be my trademark.

“Motherfucker.  How does he do it?”

The most frequent people think in dealing with me. Being a Telepath, I get these motherfucker moments. 

We’re all connected by the same thread, and once I have tasted your thread, I can find out anything I want.

There’s nothing anyone can do.

If I wasn’t trustworthy, I could get laid everyday.  I could use a woman’s mind to my advantage.

If anyone reads this shit, I’m fucked as fucked gets. 

Fuck it.