So...
Yer driving (and own) a 1988 (or 86, I keep forgetting which) Firebird. You've put THREE engines in the (damned) thing and, now, in order to pass inspection, you need to fix the exhaust, get the (mo'fackin', sumbitchin', stupid, useless, God-SAVE-me-from-"technology") computer in the (three times replaced) engine reset and God only knows what else it's gonna need done.
BUT... it's a FIREBIRD, with T-TOPS!!!! Then, you have a chance to obtain a 1996 Crown Vic with a "big engine" (anyone else hear a 440 Intercepter revvin', or is it just me?), a "township" car, an inspector (of some sort's) car, not a police car, for probably waaay less than it would take to get the 'Bird up to par. Wouldja do it? I'm gonna. I've got the "financing" taken care of already.The (dipstick) dude who bought the car at the auction hasn't had a chance to drive, hence, fuck up, the car yet, sooooo... I've got a coupla guys lined up to vet the thing for me and if it passes... If it passes, the Bird is being TEMPORARILY "retired", and GOD do I wish I mean "getting new tires", but, we all know I don't. I cried when I decided this. Which, by the way, was the day after I reamed God's ass the other day. That's when this became possible.
I hate the idea of giving up Christopher, but... I mean, OLD FARTS don't generally drive Firebirds and if they do, they don't do it well.
I do, though.
And, I don't want to be old, but... I don't see how I can sanely pass this up. I like the idea of the "big engine" and all and that spotlight on the driver's side is gonna come in REAL handy when assholes don't douse the high beams, but, other than that, I'm not too overly excited about this. Maybe that has to do with the baby duck in the aquarium sitting on the table (a recent, as in this morning, development), or the fact the a Crown Vic ain't a Firebird (though it is a Ford- saving grace), or maybe it has something to do with this one kitten who I think may die or maybe I'm just too tired or still too raw from "he's been my friend for a looong time and I'm not gonna do it", which, upon entering my ear and landing in my brain became, "I'm Norman, he's Kim and more important to me than you are, so piss off", which I realize is slightly skewed, but still...
or maybe I AM getting old. I dunno. This'll be the third white ve-HICKLE in a row that I've owned and I hate white.
Every speck o'dust shows, plus it's a BOOOOORRRRRING color. Still... Overwhelmed. I think that's what I am. Too much, for too long, with not "too much" of it being good. Not that I'm contemplating giving up or anything.
It's just that, normally, I'd be in redneck heaven with the idea of this car's gas pedal under my foot.
But, I've spent the entire time since I got my license back driving like the Original Creeping Jesus.
You know, driving like an OLD FART.
And, that's NOT just because every time I "punch it" in the Bird something falls off. For a while, I was having a hard time deciding if it's because, some time in that license-less time, I grew UP or OLD.
I went with "up". Now, I hafta go through that whole fuckin' deal again, parking the Bird. Up or old? Having to accept other certain facts (like not being #1 when I thought I was), plus parking Chris, plus all this other "responsible"-type shit I'm doing these days... it's hurting my brain. (It's also a pain right in the
(And do way much more than this "friend" has or ever will do for the person who said that thing about "friends for a long time". Sounds like "seniority" to me, a thing which I can never change, so I'm fucked, right?)
And that, comes across to me as OLD. Maybe if I didn't feel so damned many ways at once, I'd be able to know what I feel about ANYTHING right now. Mostly what I feel is exhausted, smacked down (but not out), resentful because of the smackdown and ambivalent.
Oh, and let's not forget "raw" inside, still. (Ya know... if these fuckin' people I keep being less important than amounted to a hill of beans, I think it wouldn't piss me off so much, but JeeZUS, if you could experience these "replacers", you'd think, as do I, that the people who are so important to me that I'm not as important to as the "replacements" are goddamned NUTS. I didn't matter as much to the original "him" in my life as she always has and now, I don't seem matter to THIS him as much as that HE way to hell and gone over there does and it all just makes me ill. However, I can see where situation #1 for the last 20+ years was PREPERATION for situation #2. So yeah. I'm used to it by now, but it still sucks donkey balls, if ya wanna know MY personal opinion...) I must be one of the most naive, dream-washed ASSHOLES ever born.
Where on EARTH I ever got the idea that a person, any one person, would be, could be, is, was or ever will always be... the most important person to anybody else... I don't know.
(Probably from having spent most of my life being the censored, shunted aside #2 person, watching the #1 persons having their asses kissed at my expense. Ya think?)
I guess I shoulda just took the hint when I wasn't even the most important person to my own parents.
Mom and only mom was mom's number 1.
Kim is Dad's.
(And, to further illustrate this point, may I offer the following: I wrote something that upset Kim and Dad asked me to take it down. So, I did. I, as recently as last night, implicitly asked for the same thing to be done, in a manner of speaking, for me and was refused. So, how come it's okay for me to have to "knock it off", but it's not okay to tell somebody else to do it for fuckin' ONCE?)
I don't feel like I'm #1 and there's no such real thing as two number 1's, or "co-#1's", so don't even go there.
Never have been the #1 anything, except "fuckup".
Always wanted to be, though.
But...
I'm me.
I'm not Kim.
I'm not that (motherfuckin') HIM, either.
It's "seniority" that cost me that, this time.
I think it was sex last time, because that was the ONLY thing that had to be done to/for my Dad by anybody on the planet except me and was.
Hell, I'm not even the most important to myself.
And, I know that's probably wrong of me, but 1.) I see what people who think and act like that are like and that ain't me and, 2.) da fuck do you expect after the life I've led? Most important?
pft
Try important at ALL.
Ever. (Except in certain, select situations, like if there's some random blame to be laid or shutting up needing to be done, or being the one to hafta always "just let it go" no matter how important it is to me especially if it's ONLY important to me... select situations like those that I don't personally select.)
Ever. Oh sure... I get to be "important" to people in fits and starts when they neeeeeed me for something, but that's not for forever.
That's not being first in anyone's heart or mind.
IS anyone always first in another person's heart and mind, or am I the only deluded asshole who does that, and if so, WHY? I'm not Miss Right.
I'm Miss RightNow. ("I need you now. Okay. Thanks. Now, go away.") Same shit, different decade.
Different reasons too, but it still hurts the same, just for the record. I read a thing once that said, "You may be one person in the whole world, but you're the whole world to one person."
Nice thought, but.... oh please.
Just shut up, ya know? Further, my handy dandy Oxford American Dictionary defines a friend as: a person with whom one is on terms of MUTUAL affection and RESPECT. Now, I can't say with any degree of certainty how much respect my Dad gets, but I'm pretty sure his "affection" quotient is well met.
I can, however, state with absolute confidence that this other dickhead that I'm not as important as does NOT respect or have any affection for the one who put him first, ahead of me, in this situation. I can tell. His behavior screams it to anybody with the sense to see it. Or hear it. Whatever.
The only "affection" this shitstain bestows upon his "champion" is to FUCK him with stupid, childish bullshit. He INSTIGATES shit every fuckin' time he makes contact. One of these days, he's gonna go to make "contact" and get one hell of a shock.
That's because I'm going to beat the holy hell out of him.
Seriously.
I HAD to stand by and watch my life get disrupted to the point of no return and my Dad be carted off, rarely ever to be seen again.
I'll be fucked if I'm gonna go through this shit again.
I wasn't allowed to run the disruptive person off the first time.
I will this time, goddamn it. I have never before in my LIFE tried to do anything like what I'm trying to do now (which can simply, yet honestly, be termed: being an adult and actually acting like one for a change) and the last thing I need is ANY instigating ASSHOLE to invade my HOME (home: see "refuge". Refuge: "a shelter from pursuit, danger or trouble", which this place I live in is NOT when this, or any other ulterior motive-havin' cock knocker shows up), dragging that bloodless, heartless, brainless CUNTBAG into it with him, by phone or in person.
I need all the HLEP I can get, not HINDRENCE, not bullshitistic GARBAGE, especially when it's done by someone who only ever makes contact to stir up shit, never to HELP. All he ever does is pass on MONTHS OLD information that we can do NOTHING about anyway, then he never offers to help. Ironically, most of the shit he passes on would require a lawyer to handle and he just happens to live with and somehow FUCK a moneybags FOSSIL, yet he's never once offered to help financially, let alone any other way. He says he sees all this shit going on that ought'nt be, yet NEVER offers to testify in court to it.
All he wants is to create drama.
And...
Eric lets him. I even asked Eric if he appreciates this shit this jerkoff does and he said he doesn't, yet he also said he's not going to say anything to make it stop. I didn't ask (or tell or demand or anything else) that he do it for me, but I wish he'da wanted to.
For me, for what I'm trying to do, if not for himself, which would be the best reason.
Without having to be asked, or told, or made to.
But, he won't.
He's made that clear, along with several other things. Well, wonderful.
Juuuust great.
I don't have enough shit going on, I need this guy's, too, apparently.
Yeah, cos what I'm doing isn't hard and scary and exhausting enough on it's own.
I have reserve strength hidden, just waiting for some juvenile HORSESHIT for it to be wasted on.
Suuuuuure I do.
Can't ya just fuckin' TELL????? I ENJOY this kinda superfluous, needless and STUPID shit.
I THRIIIIIVE on it.
It doesn't unnecessarily weigh me down.
It doesn't add to any load I may be carrying or shit I'm trying to deal with.
It's fuckin' FUN FOR ME!!!!!
Jesus H. Baldheaded CHRIST, if this moron didn't call here every so often to start mindless shit, I'D CALL HIM, I love it so goddamned much, right? (yeah, right) I seek out this kinda shit.
I BRING IT ON MYSELF, RIGHT????
Oh yeah, I dial the fuckin' number for him every. fuckin'. TIME. I ASK for it, BEG for it, MUST HAVE IT, RIGHT? No. Why would I when what I do ask for, or really need, this one thing, it's denied?
'Course, if I did even IMPLICITLY "ask for" this shit, I'd get it in SPADES. (I do, anyway.) And, here's the thing: I didn't even ask for what I REALLY want, which is for "JOE" to fuck completely off til his cum-dumpster is dead or the BC is or best of all BOTH OF THEM are, after which, and ONLY after which, he'll be "safe" to have around.
Noooo.
I didn't even go that far.
All I wanted was for him to be told to CUT THE SHIT. To NEVER, EVER so much as mention the BC's name to either of us ever again.
THAT'S all I wanted.
THAT'S what I'm not important enough to have.
Peace.
An end to the bullshit game playing manipulation, machinations and jealous numbfuck SHIT STIRRING he always always always haaaaaas to do. I even said, "Look, man... why can't you just tell him that if he wants to call or especially COME here and just shoot the shit, bullshit about everything else on the planet, that's fine, but for him to stop with this shit he does about HER? Don't you understand that a real friend is someone you'd not even have to have this conversation with? Just tell him to drop that subject FOREVER, that's all..." That's when I got back, "He's been my friend for a long time and I'm not going to do that...." (so piss off)... Well, I gotta tell ya...
If this dick is a "friend", I'd rather have hemmorhoids... ON MY FACE!!!! Got one in my face, anyway, don't I?
Yep.
Every goddamned time that phone rings and it's HIM, I do.
Fuckin' lowlife, dirtbag, fossil fuckin' LOSER. I even went so far as to try to understand the genisis of this thing and see what it really is now days and explain such to Eric. I said, "Dude. Maybe once, a long time ago, when you and he were in the same boat, both stuck with nasty old haggy cunts, he was your friend. But, since we've been together, we've seen him about 6 times, every time with her (his cunt) with him and all he ever does now days is call to tell you stupid, bad things that he fuckin' well knows you can't do anything about. Don'tcha think that just maybe he might be more of a jealous fucknut than a friend to you these days? YOU escaped. YOU have a LIFE now. He didn't. He doesn't. Maybe he's just jealous of you and that's why he keeps trying to fuck you up like this." Wanna hear what I got back?
(Good. 'Cause yer gonna...) "Well, you're tired, your period is here and that's all this is. Just tired and period talking..." *disgusted sigh*
Somebody just kill me now, okay? There is NO talking to him about this.
If I persisted, he'd get all defensive and start using useless words like "never" and "fine, I'll just tell him to fuck the fuck off forever" and other such inanities.
Nothing useful. Nothing helpful. Nothing conciliatory.
Just defense mechanisms that were beat into his head by... say it with me, now... the BC. He says he doesn't appreciate Joe's disruptive bullshit and I KNOW I don't, but he doesn't wanna say anything about it. Am I to just tolerate this, then?
If so, again, WHY SHOULD I?
I want one good, solid reason why I should eat this shit from this asshole.
And, how long you've know said asshole ain't gonna cut it.
I want a real reason.
Like, he saved yer life, or he's got your dick in a vise or he's actually GOOD for something besides spreading shit. (And, let me tell ya, this loser could put John Deere outta the "manure spreader" market... Christ on a STICK.) The entire time I've known this jackoff, he's not ever done anything for Eric that didn't somehow backfire or benefit himself.
"Selfless" is NOT a word he's ever heard of.
Nor is the true definition of the word "friend". Mutual respect and affection.
*snort*
Not even in the fuckin' PARKING LOT of the ballpark, let alone the ballpark itself. Then, I got to wondering: What is it that I'm not doing or doing wrong that Eric is so eager and determined to have a "friendship" with such a total asshole? One excuse he tossed out was that he doesn't have any other friends.
Dude.
You see this idiot once a freakin' year, talk to him on the phone every coupla months when he calls to start shit, and if he's your "only" friend under these conditions, I'd say yer fucked in the friend department. Which he is not, anyway.
Eric's got friends.
He just doesn't fuckin' see it. I mean, hell... besides whatever the fuck else I may be to this guy, I was his friend first and thought I still was on some level.
Pfft.
Maybe I am.
Just not on the same level as Asshole.
*sarcastic eyebrow move* But, of course. I haven't known Eric as long as he's known Assholefuckwad. I'm just a pre-menopausal, period havin', hard working/tired/insomniac bitch with the vapors. Joe's got "seniority". Ya know, I'll admit, it may have taken me a loooong while to get here, but, within a month of getting my license back, I had a job. I still have the same job and I'm about to have more of this job than I can almost handle and I'm not just doing it for myself and it doesn't seem to mean shit.
I'm also the one who is here every day, taking care of the man, and again, it doesn't mean jackshit in the face of tellin' some stupid loser to cut the shit.
WHY is that?
Just because it's ME?
How is it that not "hurting his widdle feewings" is more important than keeping him from disrupting our HOME and my psyche, not to mention hurting MY feelings in the process?
Can anybody explain this me?
Y'all?
God?
Bueller? Oh perfect.
I quit typing for a second and what do I hear?
Crickets chirping outside. Have a little irony. It's good for your blood. All I wanted was for Eric to tell him to stop it.
He flatly refused.
That's what this is about now, for me.
Not the fact that that asshole calls here, but that he's allowed to call here and come here and do and say any goddamned thing he pleases, no matter who doesn't like it. Last night, when it happened, I was so cored by it, I didn't feel like writing, even. Then, I decided that I wasn't gonna, because it'd take too fuckin' long, like it has.
Then, this morning (Tuesday morning) I woke up and within seconds, it was back. All of it hit me before I even got my eyes focused. I damned near did a post before work, it was so bad.
All day at work, I was "off".
Thank God I didn't get reamed, because yes, Mr. Bullyboy-Cook-in-a-fuckin'-diner, King of Weinie World, who was supposed to be OFF today was working for one of the other cooks, who took off.
Then, I tried to get it out by myself, before I left the parking lot at work.
Still didn't wanna go through it all.
Just wanted it to go away.
Then, I sat in my chair, where I was last night and "Hello!", it's back, bigger and more pissed off than before, so here we are. This is MY home, not Joe's.
I may not deserve much outta life, but even I can have confidence in knowing that I deserve peace in my own home.
And, if I can't have that, then I DO goddamn have a right to write about it.
To get it solved some kinda way, for myself.
Just like everybody else does shit.
FOR THEMSELVES, no matter who gets pissed about it, no matter how "not the best way to do things" it is. That much I've (finally) learned, anyway. And, right this second, me getting this thought out, "opinion-ed" by others and outta my head is more important than just about anything else.
I HAVE to do this, so I can continue to function effectively at work and here.
And, so that, hopefully, I can quit being so floored by it and pissed about it. So, Eric, I hope this hasn't pissed you off too much, but... what can I say?
I had no choice.
I was left no choice.
Just like in the situation itself. I will NOT deal with "Joe" ever again, not for one second, until such time as he knows the rules.
(Oops. My bad. Make that: the rule. There is just one, after all.)
If he can't be bothered with them, or can't even be TOLD them, that's on you two.
But... I'm out of it.
No more.
He's not welcome, with his bullshit and ancient gloryhole, in MY life, MY home or MY head.
You want him here, that's fine.
Like I said yesterday, I won't be here for it.
You can just radio me when he leaves.
If he means this much to you, I already know (and can even see) that forcing you to address him or his destructive behavior will only cost/hurt me in the end, when you choose him over me for good. And, that's a lesson I learned 20 years ago.
I won't be put through it again.
*******************************
Hi again.
It's about quarter of 5 and I'm finally about to go to bed.
It's been a couplefew hours since I finished up there and yeah, I do feel better.
Less pissed and more tired.
He's gonna need Ya, if he gets within arm's reach of ME.
(Which, by the way, is extended by a good three feet with Pusser Club in hand and while I may not hit HIM with it (don't want any biohazardous shit on my stick), I most certainly will take a swing, or several, at his stupid pickup.
Or dialing finger.
All I need is (to even think I've got) one. more. reason. Other than that, though... I feel much better than I did.
So far, anyway. Peace, y'all...
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