Monday, June 18, 2012

Dirty Love

I am so far past giving a shit about what people think. 
If there is a way that I can wring even one more drop of mockery enjoyment from my life with that bat shit loon of a douche slut mother, sign me up.
My mother never gave a nano-seconds thought about me before she said or did something that unleashed an avalanche of dire and irrevocable consequences cascading down on my unsuspecting ass. 
The effects of her mindless bullshit, bullshit that was just an afternoon's toss off fun for her, had such far reaching effects on my life that I am still paying for her reckless disregard of me.
She gave to me. So I give to her.

The Barbarian had been having an affair with a neighbor of hers. It started long before my step father died.
And being only fuck buddies with the guy, she got to know and become friends with one of his booty calls.
This booty call was married and ran around with any number of other men.
Mostly married.
The woman's husband was driven half crazy trying to catch this skank fucking around.
He was never successful.
But he always had his doubts.
And he had his doubts about this neighbor of my mothers.
Since my mothers goal was to make me a pariah to the people in my life, I responded in kind.
I sent this husband a letter so he might know that his suspicions were not  unfounded.
The only thing worse than her friend banging this guy behind her husbands back, would be if it was another of one of my mother's lies. But if my mother go's around lying about her friend's they should know.
Mary is her faithless friend.
Billy is Mary's long suffering husband.
Eric who died a couple of years ago is the guy "writing" this letter that culminates in bursting out into a karaoke version of a Zappa song.
I was really really really pissed at my mother.
She took everything I hold dear and casually wiped her ass with it.
Turn about is fair play.
I am linking you to the Zappa song. If you do not listen to the song while reading the words, you are not allowed to continue.  I have ways of finding you out.

  My Dearest Mary.

      Do not let Billy read this over your shoulder.  This is your faithful lover and confidant Eric. Last night some drunk in a pick up truck clipped a telephone pole and knocked the lines down across my grave. I am able to dial in and tell you the things I never did when we were younger and so in love.  Things I have been dying to tell you since  ..well since I died. Mary my love for you is deathless. It binds me to you with mighty cables like the ether net across my grave.  The memories of the blissful moments I spent with you creep over me and my gratitude is to god and to you that I enjoyed them for so long.
    But Mary, if the dead could come to life and flit amongst the living. I shall always be near you. In your gladdest days and in your darkest nights.  I am the cool breeze as it fans your throbbing temples.
   Mary do not mourn me dead; think that I am but gone and  I wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
Mary this song is in my heart is for you.




Give me..........................Your dirty love
Like you might surrender to the dragon in your dreams
Give me............................Your dirty love
Like a pink donation to the dragon in your dreams
I don’t need your sweet devotion
I don’t need your cheap devotion
Just whip me up some dragon lotion
For your dirty love ...yeah
Like that tacky little pamphlet in Billie’s bottom drawer
Give me.........................your dirty love
I don’t believe you’ve never seen that book before
I don’t need no consolation
I don’t need no reservation
Sneak out while Billie’s shaving
give me..................your dirty love
like your mamma made the that nasty poodle doo
Give me..................your dirty love
the way your mama made that nasty poodle chew
I’ll ignore your cheap aroma
And your little bo-beep  diploma
I’ll knock you in a coma with my  dirty love

* In retrospect I wished I would have burned a CD and included it. But that might have killed him and there is no statue of limitations on murder.

**  No contact is what you make it.  Throw yourself into it. It can redefine your soul!
 :-)


21 comments:

vicariousrising said...

You know, I'm of half a mind to sit you down and write a true crime book about your mother with you.

Sweetness said...

I'm with VR on this one too.

Tundra Woman said...

Yk, with her proclivity for having "Partners In Crime" I'm surprised any guy would feel safe if their "Honey" was hangin' with The Barbarian. She was hazardous to EVERYONE'S health. A true "Equal Opportunity Destroyer."
Bet she has a case or two of antifreeze in her garage. Right next to the cases of "Eau de Barbarian" scented douche.
TW

q1605 said...

TW. Is the antifreeze reference in regard to Stacy Castor the woman who poisoned her husband with anti-freeze and then later gave her daughter an over dose of drugs when the law was closing in on her and wrote a suicide note supposedly by the daughter in which the daughter "confesses" to the murder of her mothers husband?
That is the true spirit of the Barbarian.
My mother has always tried to pin her murder rap on my sister.
If they hadn't busted the Barbarian so quickly she probably would have done the same thing.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stacey_Castor

Tundra Woman said...

Could be-there's a few "Black Widows" running around. I'm not one of 'em or have any aspirations in that direction: I'm just the "run-of-the-mill" old widow. The geriatric "fart-ball" cat with the stealth SBDs is the "Weapon of No-Choice" so I don't have to do much to get rid of the annoying guys. Or any guys for that matter. (Except The Stalker who confines his activities to running across my backyard at night and thinks the super-sized Sensor Lights render him magically invisible. Just like the cheap-ass beer cans he leaves in his "nest" just about behind the woodline. Just ABOUT behind....) She's ensured my current status is unlikely to change in her lifetime or mine either.....once ya get a "Reputation" and all that stuff.
So how is Sis implicated in The Barbarian's twisted mind? (Let's call this "Tuesday'sTwisted Stories."
This ought a be good!)
TW

q1605 said...

When the conversational soup about the killing days starts getting a bit thick, my mother gets this flustered affect about her and starts talking about how none of that would have gone down had my sister not had the guy that pulled the trigger sniffing around.
Now.....
My sister was 15.
The guy was 21.
My recollection was of the guy more or less following my sister home. But what do I know, I was 8.
We were living in Kansas City while my father was working out of town so we took up temporary digs in the "Heart of America Trailer Park."
LOL
We rented a trailer short term. But I say this only because life in a trailer park is more gregarious than life in regular houses with regular streets and real foundations.
What my mother doesn't speak of is how she latched on to this kid like a barnacle the instant he walked in the door.
It's my sister who is at fault.
My mother banging this guy and us meeting the soon to be dead guy in Dallas when we should have been going to Denver to meet my Dad who was gearing up to start a new remodel of a Sears there gets lost in the accounting.
It wouldn't have mattered what swinging dick was available and it wouldn't have mattered how she met him.
As soon as she found out the mark carried a roll of cash with him at all times he was a dead man.

Tundra Woman said...

Oh, so since Sis had a guy sniffing around, The Barbarian had to show SIS who was REALLY "Hot." (More like "Hot to Trot.") Couldn't stand her daughter becoming "Competition" so she gets down with a kid about half her age, a "young un," one that's more easily led, more malleable. I bet a day hasn't passed for that guy that he doesn't think of The Barbarian. Maybe someday he'll "repay" HER.
I have more respect for a Prostitute. They exchange sex for money as well and she flunked "Prostitution 101: Get the $$ upfront."
What a Predator.
Yuk.
TW

q1605 said...

She has a thing against people in monogamous and happy marriages.
She'll try to seduce the husband and get them apart that way.
If it's her son or daughter she will get alone with the spouse and start telling lies about the history of her child. Anything she can do to start a fight and get them going at one another.
She's fucking sick.
She is a nymphomaniac.
She is the worst kind of liar.
And this woman is my mother.
I am pretty sure my father is not my biological father.
I can't even say that about her.

Tundra Woman said...

I've wondered about your paternity as well, Little One just from your physical description. But who ever it was must have been a pretty good guy-after all, you (as well as Sis) turned out to be decent, good people.
I'm sure you'd never learn the truth about your paternity in any event. Even if you weren't NC as you know, the quickest way to ensure you'll never get the truth/facts out of these "parents" is to ask or demonstrate any degree of interest. You'd get jerked all over creation if The Barbarian was aware you had any suspicions. It gives them all kinds of Power (which they crave) to play their sadistic games. I think you're entirely right about her proclivity to target married men: It makes the game more of a challenge and smears the pain even further. And slandering, sliming, maligning your AC to their spouse is also targeted and intended. I wonder why spouses/SOs don't see through this stuff and wonder, "WHY would his/her PARENT say this shit about their AC?" I don't understand why the SOs would even believe these "parents." If they came from a more normal family-and that doesn't take much considering our "Parent(s)"-I would think they'd immediately be suspicious of the motivations of the "Parent."
Yes, she gave birth to you: She is a "BIOLOGICAL mother" ONLY. The shame is hers ALONE. What a mess for you and Sis in EVERY way: Living in rural areas doesn't afford the degree of anonymity you have in a more urban environment.
TW

q1605 said...

Ah TW. But I did tell her in snail mail about me being pretty sure of my unsure paternity.
I also sent the guy that I am fairly sure of being my biological father a letter telling him what a fuck-tard he was.
I will post it later.
Man I had 51 years of bull shit to clear out.

q1605 said...

TW. We are from the country. But so close to Dallas that it was easy to get lost in the city.

vicariousrising said...

Geez, it occurs to me from TW's comment that I can see my sister totally sabotaging her daughters' future boyfriends because of her needs for attention. She never thought twice about trying to steal my guys or flirting outrageously with much younger boys (and I mean BOYS - when she was 20, she would get all tittery around our younger brother's friends in middle school)

Damn. My sister's girls are so screwed. Their father is misogynistic narcissist and my sister is a self-esteem robbed histrionic.

vicariousrising said...

I love the disclaimer. *snicker*

q1605 said...

Yeah VR. They really have no boundaries.

q1605 said...

They'll ruin people's lives just to give themselves that 6 minute ego stroke of knowing they can get a guy to whip out his crank and rub in their face.

Anonymous said...

After thinking about it, I really think that Bill introduced himself to me because he'd heard in the neighborhood what a wild mother we had. I don't think it was by accident that a 21 year old says "hi" to a 15 year old who looks like a child. I had only talked to him twice and he wanted to go to my house and meet my mother. Duh! As soon as she saw him, they were Bonnie and Clyde.

q1605 said...

That makes a lot of sense.
There was some about 20ish year old woman living at the Wylie butane that gave all of us shots of vodka and said she would have sex with any one of us that was willing.
She was married and this was while her husband was at work.
But we were like 12 and 13 and it mostly freaked us out.
Given a few more years of age and who knows.
But she was legendary amongst my friends there.

q1605 said...

It makes me wonder how she never caught the clap or it was found out what a slut she is before. She never hid that shit from us.
I never saw a man at our house she didn't end up screwing.
Funny thing is she is she is very sensitive about her image now.
I made a remark about her screwing every guy that came to the door and she got very quiet and asked what I meant by that.
I downplayed it as an off hand remark. But you could tell it bugged her.
What the f did she think we were going to remember.
She screwed EVERYBODY.
Oh you didn't see that.
Which is what she said during out last conversation on the phone.
The ...mom you killed a guy conversation.
Every thing I said was followed by a
OH! I DID NOT!

q1605 said...

She worked hard and long on crazy. She should be proud of her legacy.

Anonymous said...

I wanted to know what can refrain from a bee in one's brio so that's hither it not who could not accord an true answer.

q1605 said...

I am glad you asked me that anonymous. I have pondered your question and can only answer with this.

To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would fardels bear, till Birnam Wood do come to Dunsinane,
But that the fear of something after death
Murders the innocent sleep,
Great nature's second course,
And makes us rather sling the arrows of outrageous fortune
Than fly to others that we know not of.
There's the respect must give us pause:
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The law's delay, and the quietus which his pangs might take,
In the dead waste and middle of the night, when churchyards yawn
In customary suits of solemn black,
But that the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns,
Breathes forth contagion on the world,
And thus the native hue of resolution, like the poor cat i' the adage,
Is sicklied o'er with care,
And all the clouds that lowered o'er our housetops,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.
But soft you, the fair Ophelia:
Ope not thy ponderous and marble jaws,
But get thee to a nunnery -- go!