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It all started with Kevin. My first love. Too fine, boo-black, and always broke. A so-called actor whose starring role was that of a dimple-faced together-brother with a good head on his shoulders. Kevin said he worked in the lab at Harlem Hospital, when actually -- he swept that mothah and took out the trash!

Five years later while stationed in California, I met my ex-husband, Maurice. A fine ass red-bone with sticky fingers and shit for brains. I must've been feeling fine on cloud nine when I took that short trip down the aisle. I didn't even know the guy! Not three months passed between us saying our first, "hello's" and our final, "I do's". It was six months before I figured out my new husband could steal the oink off a pig.

Talk about impulsive!

And in between the liar and the thief, there was Antoine two-tongue Thommson.

I will never forget him.