To wives who have found IRE.net bookmarked on their husband’s computers. Um, look around. Notice anything?

In your blind rage you might have missed what to normal people is glaringly obvious so let me spell it out:

IRE.net isn’t a dating site! We’re writers, you twats!!

In the time it took to draft your longwinded and poorly written emails, you could’ve saved yourself unnecessary heartache by being ever vigilant of your surroundings. We’re a friendly gang of likeminded scribblers who have somehow convinced our readers to visit us often as they like.

Read our stories and blog posts. We babble about our families, and laugh with and at one another. We offer support through thick and thin, rant and rave, and talk about BS we stumble upon.

Whoop-de-freakin’-doo! You caught us being accepting and friendly!



I’m Tracy Ames. I'm a writer. This is my site. I’m not the moral police. If your husbands are here they’re probably not flirting. But if they are that’s not my problem. As long as everyone is respectful, I’m cool. Read our threads…they’re a hoot!

Bottom line, we’re adults and I treat everyone as such until they prove otherwise. You handle your house and I'll handle mine. And please keep your pointless emails.


As my Grandma says: Heartache don't hide. You don't have to go looking for it. It's normally staring you right in the face.




Coming Tomorrow:
The Space Between Things: Chapter Two by Reggi Harrington