P.S. A Column On Things

By PAUL E. SCHINDLER JR. I am from Portland, Oregon, Beaumont ’66, Benson High ’70, MIT ’74. Some things are impossible to know, but it is impossible to know these things.

New: Keep Your Hands Off

July 28, 2024

After seeing one too many terrible divorces on TV, in the movies (God save me from being married to a screenwriter), and among my friends, this came to me. I thought it might be a song too, but I was told it isn’t.

CHORUS:
 You’ll have to pry our kids from my cold dead hands.
You say you want to fight? Come on, let’s dance

You represent yourself, got a fool for a client.
Compared to you, my lawyer is a giant.

Everything you said in your papers was a lie.
I’m gonna fight you till the day I die.

I’m gonna take the kids and move away.
You just better not get in my way

I never asked for this. It was you that did.
Keep being a creep And I’ll flip my Lid

You don’t want the kids I can plainly see.
You’re just doing this as a way to hurt me

You think I’ll roll over? Just wait and see.
I’m gonna kick you in the ass like you kicked me

When all of this is said and done.
Turns out you’re not the only one
Who can fight dirty just wait and see
I’m gonna hurt you like you hurt me

The kids and I will own not rent
You’ll be on the street living in a tent.
Skip the alimony! what the hell?
You’re gonna be lonely in that cell

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Paul E. Schindler Jr.

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