And, the shit goes on... la dee dah dee dah...
(That's supposed to come out sounding like that Sonny & Cher song, by the way...)
I know it may seem like I'm never gonna stop talking about this goofy bitch and what she did to my house, but... HOPEFULLY, this'll be it... about her anyway.BUT, I'm betting there's gonna be at least one more time and you'll see why by the time I'm done here.
(Besides which, I'm pretty sure as we fix the bathroom, I'll be talkin' about that, too, but not so much in a "wow, unbelivable!", still half-pissed kinda way, like I do her... Like this is about to be...) The more time that goes by, the more time I spend forking shit and trying NOT to think about "what if" and "holy SHIT" and such, the more things hit me about what exactly did and didn't go on that day. What did go on was SHE SET MY HOUSE ON FIRE!!! FUCK, MAN!!! Yeah, that's still freakin' me out a bit ever' now and again.
Especially the "what if" parts.
Like, what if I hadn't been here?
What if I hadn't done just what I did and got it put out?
What if the I hadn't emptied that trashcan the night before and it was still full of tissues, toilet paper rolls and dryer lint? That sumbitch woulda had the bathroom too fully engulfed for me to stop it, that much I know...
What if the house HAD burned to the ground and all of my stuff, all of my animals and ME... what if it was all gone/dead?
What if, what if, what IF... ya know? What didn't happen is still pissing me off the more of it that occurs to me.
What didn't happen includes, but is not limited to:
Her trying in any way to put it out or to even help.
Her using her cell phone, my cell phone or the landline to call 911.
Her bothering to even go over to the milking parlor, which is about 20 feet away and was filled with men milking cows to tell them to call 911 or to even tell 'em what was going on and that I mighta needed help whilst she was already halfway there peeing the damned dog.
Her not ONCE apologizing, not even an "I didn't do it, but I am sorry it happened..." All I got was "I didn't do it", which is pure bullshit.
(She's since admitted that much in a voicemail on George's phone... Her exact words were "I apologize for the big mess which I totally did..." which was just empty horseshit she thought George wanted to hear designed to get him to relent and call her, which he didn't do... I promise you, she's not one damned bit sorry, beyond being a sorry excuse for a human being.) This chick is beyond unbelievable.
Since Tuesday, she's called George no less than 15 times.
He's not talked to her once.
He just selects "no" when his phone asks if he wants to take the call and she gets sent right to voicemail. She takes hints less well than the average man, I swear. He's been thinking about calling Nextel and having his number changed, but he's got an assload of people he'd have to notify and it's a pain in the ass that she's not worth, so "we" came up with an alternative solution for that. I got involved.
*shit eating, evil grin* He's had me listen to each of her voicemails as a witness/backup kinda thing.
Plus, he just wants someone else to hear this garbage so if he ever wonders if he did the right thing, like if she kills herself or something, he'll not be alone with his head about it, if ya know what I mean. So, this evening, after having heard alla these moronic voicemails in which she first admits guilt and apologizes to him, mind you, then cops an attitude because he hasn't called her back, when she called for about the fourth time since he got home from work, let alone all day, I answered his phone. I started out with, "What the FUCK do you want? How stupid are you, anyway? Can you not get the hint that George does NOT want to talk to you anymore? Just what in the hell is your problem?" She says, "I wanna talk to George." I come back with, "People in hell want ice water, that don't mean they git it."
(Thank you, Patsy Cline, for that one...) I then proceeded to "explain" to her, in no uncertain terms, that George is done. Quits. Wants nothing more to do with her ever. They're not "dating". They're not "together" and haven't been since he dumped her ass in February and I know allll about that, they're not getting married, she's not moving anywhere with him ever and I've heard every single one of her messages and if she continues this horseshit, he's gonna change his number.
NOT TO EVEN MENTION... the guy he's working for now has work lined up for the next year and a half AND he's got an apartment for George already, he's not gonna be coming back to Jersey for a long while and, frankly, he wants her to fuck off already, fer Christ's sake.
(All of which is 100% true, by the way...) Her response?
"Whatever", hanging up and having her mother call. We had a more civilized conversation, her mother and I did. I basically told her that her daughter needs professional help, George can't "fix" her or her life for her and doesn't want her bothering him anymore, she's lying to her about what went on up here and the amount of the damage done to the bathroom. I told her I knew all about the breakup and the bullshit that followed it last month and that George and the rest of us feel he's been being used since day one, having to buy everybody's cigarettes and other assorted miscellaneous shit down there and being made to feel obligated to take half the family out with them when he did go places with her daughter and that I feel for her, I really do, that her daughter is 30 friggin' years old and there's no reason she should be putting up with her and her crap anymore what with the health problems she and her husband have. She asked about the money from her daughter that was used for them to get here and I said, "Oh, that. Well, that'll be going to the repair of the bathroom instead of being paid back, PLUS there's about $500.00 dollars worth of my personal effects that were lost in the fire, not to mention however much the repairs will be, the guy who owns this house is beyond pissed off about the whole thing and that if the little dipshit persists in harassing George, I will see to it that the man gets her information to sue for damages BUT if you make sure your daughter fucks off, I'll arrange it so that she doesn't get sued. Sound fair to you?", I asked. It did. Then, I told her I know damned well her daughter IS gonna keep it up and asked her if she wants to be told if she does and she said yes. So, I told her I'd do her that courtesy and reiterated that if it does happen, even ONE MORE call, all bets are off. The number will be changed and they will be getting a bill... a HUGE bill and that the owner of the house has money and can afford all kindsa lawyers. Somewhere in there, in the midst of the "I know he broke up with her and got manipulated into talking to her again", I added that George is just too nice for his own good some times, but that "I'm not, though..."
I even told the woman that, while she was here, I was meaner to the girl than I ever have been to anyone before in my life because I knew beforehand what they'd done to George and STILL she doesn't get it, that even after burning up the damned bathroom, she was still trying to engage me in casual conversation just before she got dropped off. "Do ya see now just how screwed UP she is? I mean, Jeezus, ya know?" And, just to make absolutely sure I'd gotten the point across, I once again said, "I don't know if you need to take her phone away NOW or what, but WHEN she calls him the next time, his number is getting changed and I'm gonna nail her ass to the WALL for the damages, okay? You do understand that, right?" She said she does. Yeah.
We'll see, hence the "may be one more of these posts" part at the beginning of this. While I must admit that a part of me enjoyed the HELL out of it, getting alla that off my chest and all, I really do not appreciate being pushed into being such a supreme bitch, ya know? How can people so stupid, so lacking in brain function, even LIVE? Isn't a functioning brain a requirement for being alive?
Damn.
I always thought it was only COWS (and most dairy farmers-WALLY!!! BILL!!!) who are able to pull that off. I WAS WRONG!!!! Apparently people totally lacking brain function CAN be alive and not ALL dairy farmers are morons. Fine.
I can admit when I'm wrong. I'm not wrong about this bitch, though.
Not even a little bit. She IS truly fucked up mentally and she WILL try calling George again, just wait. When she does, he'll change the number and then they get to wait with bated breath for the big, badassed bill.
Just knowing how freaked out they'll be by that may be enough, especially after I call her mother and tell her she did it again...
And, ya know what?
I love that.
They DESERVE that and more. But, I'll tell ya what... she calls again after that... I most certainly WILL follow through.
Count on it. Like I said to Eric and George earlier... I faced down Eric's BC, what on EARTH could possibly phase me after that?
Nuthin', that's what.
Not one damned thing, especially when it comes to helping out/protecting someone I care about. One last thing... I hafta say this here, since I haven't said it to George... I'm compelled to say this, before my head explodes... I told him going out with her, or anyone who is friends with Eric's BC, is a baaaaad idea. *aaaahhhh*
I feel ever s'much better now. And, I'm now laughing my butt off... thank God. I cannot believe this shit.
I hate drama.
I live to AVOID drama.
But, it IS nice to know I can rise up righteously and smite perpetrators of it when the need arises. "Don't fuck with the Bull, you'll get the horns."
(Oh my Gawd, I can't believe I just said that. I hate that line and the dickwad principal in The Breakfast Club who says that to Bender, though he pusses out with "mess with". Makes me wanna throat punch him every time I watch that movie... *rolling eyes*) (But, apparently, it IS true. Who'da thunk?) And, in case yer wondering, George was less than 15 feet from me through both conversations and was even adding things for me to repeat to both of them. Sometimes, people just need an Enforcer. *coupla minutes later* I need to get my ass to bed.
Only bad thing about it is that I hafta go to the bathroom and NOW, I hate having to do that.
Every time I go in there and see the burnt floor, the burnt wall, all the things missing... it just brings it all right back to me.
Every time I go in there, I can't help but say "Fuckin' cunt..."
Every time I go in there, it pisses me OFF. God, I can't wait til we get it put back right.
I can't wait to not have to smell it, or see it, or think about it any more.
Can't wait, but I have to.
Another day or two, at most.
Man... Anyway, I'm off to bad.
Gotta be up early, as usual, and I haven't slept right since Tuesday yet.
When I do get to sleep, it's good, great even, but I keep avoiding going upstairs til I can't see straight, hoping I can fake my way through the "bathroom" part... but, it doesn't work and all that happens is I don't get enough of that good sleep and I feel like hell when I wake up.
Then, I get pissed all over again when I go to take a piss when I get up. Gotta get this over with, fixed and behind me before I go the hell off again, but on the wrong person probably, ya know? Okay then, here I go... Peace, y'all...
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