My ex, who I'm still amicable with, is a post-Mensa brilliant, horny, obnoxious mindfuck of a human being who can drink 10 straight shots of Irish whiskey one minute, publicly dry-hump my leg the next, and then ignore me for the next half hour as he opens his laptop and finishes his legal brief for the next day. So why can't I just cut him off completely, you ask? I love his mind. He's a fabulous writer and satirist who can work the crudest forms into masterpieces. If he ever had a threesome with Trey Parker and Matt Stone, I think the universe might explode. I would love to work with him on a shared project in a controlled creative capacity - nothing too earnest, of course - in a way that makes me feel like a respected contributor. Not likely to happen this century, though. Time to move on.