Friday, August 3, 2012

Karma's a bitch.



My sociopath mother has a problem with the prospect of cremation. She thinks it is a sin to wantonly destroy this planet's only source of pure, naturally occurring beauty.
To deny the world this time capsule of beauty, would be to throw mankind back to the dark ages. She must be available to be exhumed and studied by future generations. Only the Barbarian can serve as a benchmark for the women of the future to aspire to.
She is well aware of the void her passing will impose on the world. Those people whose live's have been  forever changed by her consummate beauty and refinement. It's her duty to assure these people that the beauty that sustains them now, will never perish from the earth.
She must  archive and preserve this resource so freely given to her by the very hand of god.
And she must never falter in the quest to have her remains judiciously prepared and preserved. The one of a kind portrait that is her face,  painted by the hand of god, can never be replicated by mortal hands. Only the  original will be sufficient to draw from in the future.  And these generations must know that the comfort and joy derived from her beauty in the past, will last forever more.
One can only hope that this will soothe the anguished crowds  that will take to the streets, weeping and rioting, at the news of her death.


Pull this leg and it plays jingle bells. No one alive has ever been able to figure out what go's on in that head of hers. Not even her.
My mother has her funeral bought and paid for. She has her dress and casket. All top shelf.
The casket is a hermetically sealed behemoth.  Air and water tight. Bug, varmint, and Jehovah's Witness resistant.
She will have the freshest corpse money can buy.
She is busy locking in contractual agreements for immunity from invading bacteria, mold, and insects.
Only the insects have yet to sign letters of intent.
One thing about air tight caskets.
By keeping air out, a sealed casket, in anything but the most frigid weather, becomes a crock pot that turns the body into a smelly toxic stew.
Formaldehyde buys three days of unfestered viewing of the body.
But for the long haul, a sealed casket is a self basting cooking bag.
Preventing entry of the elements also prevents exit of the elements.
So the casket becomes a pressurized canister of formaldehyde, methane and just a lot of garden variety stank.
And when it eventually leaks, and they all eventually do, those liquids are expelled with great force.

Karma IS a bitch Babbs.
Karma is a bitch.
I hereby rescind all threats made expressly, or implied, to light my mothers head afire like the Hindenburg.
I won't do a thing.
I will sit back and have a cold beer, in the hot sun, knowing that under my feet she is baking like a pie.



26 comments:

Calibans Sister said...

Whatever you do, don't tell your mom she'll become a smoothie in that coffin! Her desire to close everything out hermetically seems a weird allegory, especially considering what you say about her nymphomania. What an utter basket case she is. And thanks for the warning about avoiding a meal before or after reading. Eeeeewwwwwww.

q1605 said...

Hell no I won't tell her. First I am no contact. Second I want to give her as she gave me. I will sleep well knowing that her attempts at physical immortality are going to be worse for her cause than going up in flames.
It's a lot less evil than what she did to me. All I am doing is withholding information. I'm not lying. I am not manipulating.
I am doing what works for malignant narcissists.
And that is watching her hang herself.
Which is moot.
For all I know she's been dead for months. It's liberating to know that I won't be dragged into her ultimate narcissist chaos.
Her final act will have to be endured by strangers that don't give a shit.
Barb: Every thing is black. Blacker than a wick. But even amongst this unending dark, I feel life coursing through these bitter veins. Life and light. Light and Life.
Her room mate: Would you stuff a sock in it already. The wheel is on and I can't see Vanna's melons with your noggin blocking out the whole screen.

Her biggest defect is thinking she can throw money at a biological process and have that process defer to her wishes. Like it can recognize her vast superiority and will go easy on her.
How fucked up is that?
It's like waiving a blank check at the pitbull attached to your leg and expecting him to let go and trot off to cash it.

Tundra Woman said...

Yep. What a fitting "ending" to an "explosive" narc! This is far more....appropriate than a Roast-n-Toast.
I've had horrible experiences with Funeral Homes here and I'll be damned if these people are gonna make a penny more than the very least I can ensure they're paid for their "services." Unfortunately, a licensed funeral director will be required to haul my dead carcass to a major university (about 150 mi. away) where I'm a cadaver doner. If it were up to me, I'd say just throw it in the bed of a pick-up truck, and I'll pay the gas and add in some extra for a big ol' party to be held at everyone's convenience.
Yk, I was thinkin' here, q: The funeral homes have "Picture Boards" where pix of the deceased and family are shown. Wouldn't it be a rip if you could laminate those articles about the murder and sprinkle them liberally among the "sweet pix" of Her Royal MN-ass?
(heh, heh...just sayin'....)
TW

Tundra Woman said...

(I'm thinkin' this would "compensate" for her "Little Bo-Peep" outfit...)
TW

q1605 said...

If I have to believe in a god that's the best I can do for now. It's either sketchy belief with attitude, or full on atheism.
I never had blind faith. Any faith ginned up be me would have to be blind. Deaf and dumb too.
At my age I don't have time for fairy tales, absentee landlords, or entities that present like the Sunday New York Times cross word puzzle.
God can reveal himself to us or go on and leave me alone.
I am not sure why I got stuck on religion.
It usually takes up about 15 seconds of my year.

Tundra Woman said...

Maybe because there are often "Religious" overtones to the rituals we engage in when we die.
When I was caring for DH as he was dying, I kept tying to impress on one of the SIL's the man IS DYING. So if you want to see him, you need to get here pronto. They live in the community so it's not like it was a huge effort, yk?
So, SIL and BIL show up one Sat. morning while I was bathing him and I asked them to hold on for a few minutes so I could finish up. My SM (truly a great lady) "entertained" them in the LR with the coffee and donuts they so "graciously" supplied. (I had a ton of this stuff already because people were stopping by left and right.) I told George they were in the LR and he looked at me and rolled his eyes-I said, "Yeah, I know...want to see them?" "Yeah TW, might as well get this over." So they meander into the BR and I close the door to give them some privacy. Less than a minute later, SIL comes flying out of the BR with BIL in hot pursuit screaming, "He's dying! He's DYING!!" (No shit Sherlock. I've been telling you this for a week.) Then they fly out the door to "get a priest for the last rites!!" as if we hadn't done that already. They returned about 45 min. later with this hapless priest in tow, I lead them all BACK in the room....and George, gawd love the man, threw them ALL out...within about 30 seconds.
So yeah, the Religious overtones...and yes, I have to admit we both "Tee-Heed" after they left-as did my 80-something SM.
TW

q1605 said...

Yeah. We have to disarm the uncertainty of what happens after death any way we can. As much as my life has sucked, there was still lots more good than bad. Now that I am to the age where death is more of a concrete reality rather than an abstract future, the thought of being over is unsettling.
I was asking a friend that is very religious about why a god would be so cryptic and unavailable to the people he created and sent out like sheep among the wolves.
He said that is like a pot asking the potter why he chose to put a handle on it.
That's the shit that irritates me.
I default to there being nothing out there if it has to be foisted on me like some Nigerian bank fraud.
I will have to tell about that experience that the barbarian stepped on when I was trying to share it with my parents. If not for that one thing I would be an atheist. period. end. period. of the story.

q1605 said...

I like stories that include your step mother. Even if she is barely mentioned. She sounds like she was a classy dame.
To me class is little more than having a consistent pleasant nature. Living and letting live.
Giving loved ones the latitude to be who they are.
And showing some grace under pressure
As simple as it sounds, very few people seem to be able to pull it off.

Anonymous said...

Since she's a vampire she has to make sure the body is intact.

Sis

q1605 said...

I sound twisted. She would be proud.
I got it from her.

Tundra Woman said...

Oh Sis! I'm so glad you're back! Perfect!
I've lost my internet for the last few days consistently (I'm use to intermittent stuff) but it's a joy to catch up with you all.
Yep, there won't be enough "Feminine Hygiene Spray," "Eau de Barbarian" Douche or just plain cheap perfume to "fix" the inevitable.
My SM was everything I aspire to and have failed miserably. She was one of these people who truly loved and tried to understand everyone. But when she turned her back-and she did it so nicely, but FIRMLY-she was DONE. And never spoke poorly of anyone. She simply didn't say a word, just politely and unobtrusively changed the subject. As she told me/wrote to me, "I was so late coming into your life" and followed with a letter that bought me to tears. What a lady in every and the very best sense of the word. I was fortunate to have known her. And Dad had such a great life after all those years of hell, thanks to her.
I miss her and love her beyond words. Not only was it "better late than never," she was one of 3 people that had the greatest, most positive impact on my life.
Sis, The Barbarian is the "template" for the really good Vampire movies! "The EXPLODING CRYPT" would make a great biography for a Drive-In. Too bad they don't seem to have those "Passion Pits" anymore. sigh. Oh, the good ol' days of paid-for-"parking" and back seats of vehicles with steamed up windows!
TW

Charity said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

TW, wish we'd known you when we were kids, we would have had a blast!


Sis

Kara said...

"He said that is like a pot asking the potter why he chose to put a handle on it." Man, that is a really lame answer. My brother once gave me a similar answer to a question I had, he said: "trying to understand it is like trying to put all the water in the ocean in hole in the beach." What they're basically saying is that you shouldn't question God, but, from a christian point of view, they're wrong. The Bible is full of accounts of people questioning God on all sorts of issues. It was never held against them.

q1605 said...

I really think I deserve some latitude on judgment day. If I am a doubter. If it is as god's earthly posse says it is, I will get zero tolerance from the dude up stairs.
I am sick of hearing from people that act like they have the head dude on speed dial.
I am sure that God grants them no more of an audience than he does me.
Satan however, is real. I can tell you where she lives.

q1605 said...

Charity. In my mothers world there is room for only one god. And she is it.
So life after death for her is to ascend the throne and take her rightful place as the infinite bitch.
I think I am right. About her trying to keep a lid on the Pandora's box I was about to open.
I have wondered about it for decades. The instant I considered about me being on the verge of blowing her cover it all fell into place.

q1605 said...

Oh. There is no conscience there. Guilty or otherwise.

Tundra Woman said...

Yep.
What, people think "The Devil" is gonna show up with a a long tail, horns and a pitchfork sporting a bad sun burn? I am so tired of people banging on my door, disturbing my day to "Invite me to.." or "here's the GOOD NEWS!" pushing some pamphlet in my hands. If you're polite, they keep coming back. The word "NO" is not in their vocabulary. The only solution I can come up with is, "Who let the DOGS OUT? Who? Who?" ;) If I wanted to attend your place of worship, I'd be there. Please leave me in peace in my home.
Hey q, think it's time to make a copy of that article and send it her way? I'm serious. She'd NEVER figure out a post mark from The Tundra! Yes, I know that's petty and small minded and likely, mean. But my thought is that mind set is something The Barbarian could relate to, yk? As we age, thoughts about our mortality start to become "front and center."
Just sayin'.....!

Tundra Woman said...

Oh-q and Sis, You don't think you're gonna get word of her death somehow?
TW

q1605 said...

It's hard to tell. When I was living with her I was forbidden to call Sis if she had died so god only knows what instructions she has issued and who she issued them to. I am thinking she'll have her lawyer follow up.
I wasn't sure why she had a problem with my sister. Her demeanor led me to believe that there was some way my sister had dissed her and I really didn't want to hear it. I hate that shit more than anything. There is way more than enough real bullshit in a person's life to feel the need to go out and make more up.
But of course she has never worked or done anything else but be a trashy bitch.
After I went no contact I e-mailed my sister and kind of let her know that if she had any illusions of our mother becoming more sane with age to let go of them because it ain't happening.
The friction between them was generated by my mother. Them being at odds suited some purpose for her and she made it so. was equal parts embellishment on the part of my mother, or as a direct result of my mothers insanity.
I hate to be cryptic. But it's my sisters gig and up to her to tell.
I will tell you that there really isn't much to tell. My mother just starts in lying and poking and jabbing and like a surfer just follows the wave.
Jaysus. Why did you ask me that? I wrote it out like we are talking about your random pretty normal person. Then changed the answer to reflect her craziness. Except there is no way to account for her insanity.
If she decided to fuck with a person today, it would be a completely different fucking than she would have to deal with tomorrow. Or yesterday.
How crazy is she?
Let me count the ways.

Tundra Woman said...

I asked only because I found out about Psychob's demise by deduction: Things got tooo quiet and stayed that way for a few years, so I figured something was up. A few discrete "inquiries" later and there it was: Psychob's last piece of OUTSTANDING "Fiction" aka, the Oh!-BITCH-"meee"-ary.
Talk about a happy-dance around my living room! Like one of those foot-ball guys who just made a touch-down. And the unbridled HUMOR-oh, I had a wonderful time with THAT piece of "work" and the discrete advertising "card" they "provide" courtesy of the Funeral home with the "deceased's" dates of birth, death, a nifty lil' Psalm on the back-ohhh, that had me in tears-of laughter!
They don't change. They continue to be a Legend in their Own Blind, conning all the "good people" right to the grave. I'm tellin' you, those things should have to be fact checked.
But the "Exploding Coffin" may be heard even from a distance. Call in the haz-mat folks/"Hurt Locker" suits. Me thinks it's gonna be a fitting...."ending." And a safer world for the rest of us.
TW

Anonymous said...

Honestly I never did a thing to her to make her dislike me at all. But she needed a scapegoat and I was an easy target, especially since I lived so far away I couldn't defend myself. Like 2004 she tried to force me to go to Texas and I got red flags from her tone, and I said no. Never heard from her again for 5 years. Didn't even know why.

Sis

q1605 said...

TW. I really don't think there will be an arrangement with any one to pass this news on to us.
If she had not ran me off, my instructions were to not tell sis if she died. And she cut sis out of her will. I planned to go against her wishes because that is chicken shit. I would have told sis and I would have split her estate.
But living with her for months let her get all inside my head and I was faltering.
Thing is there was never any indictment of my sisters actions. No smoking gun. Just a bunch of nebulous rhetoric that didn't add up to nothing.
"Oh they think they are so much better than us hicks back here in Texas." Etc Etc.
Just stuff so goddamn stupid I am embarrassed to repeat.
I honestly tried to ignore her but that is something no mortal man has been able to accomplish.
Sis clued me in on what the score was later. How she created chaos out of nothing. Which is just her usual delicately driving a bulldozer through anyone not there to contradict her.
Here is an example of what she is like. I was about 17 and me and sis were both living at my grandmothers.
I guess a pot seed flew out from some one's car as they drove by and it started growing in this container that I accidentally splashed water in each morning and night. My grandmothers brother got all up in things and it turned into some big deal.
The plant too. It was about six feet tall and a real beauty.
Thing is, by the time I discovered the hub bub, the drama had all played out and I just harvested....mmmmm........disposed of the plant.
So it's decades later and after the stroke and I am there with her.
She starts railing on sis about her pot plant. I said you still bringing that up. It was the first time I had talked with her about it. I just smoked it all back in the day and that was that.
So I said mom, you got it all wrong. That was my plant. Well your sister was blah blah blah.
I said she didn't have anything to do with it.
Well she was kind of this...and her boyfriend was kind of that blah blah blah.
MOM! IT-WAS-MY-PLANT! I-PLANTED-IT-I GREW-IT-I SMOKED-IT
Well she would have grown some if she had thought of doing it.
Something to that effect. No matter how forcefully I said it was me and not sis, the quicker she dismissed my confession and heaped more shit on my sister.
F-ucking crazy.

Tundra Woman said...

Ohhh, Sis, Five YEARS later? She wanted something from you, no doubt!
Yeah, gawd forbid some late teen grows a nice li' personal science/agricultural "experiment" when all The Barbarian, the "full-grown MNPsychopath" did was participate in one KNOWN murder, one suspected MURDER and a SUICIDE.
Mon Dieu, compared to HER, you all had beyond-shining, tarnished-into-eternity-haloes. At least they don't "explode" into a Federal Superfund Clean-Up Site.
TW

Anonymous said...

I was just picturing you living there with her and her prancing around like Austin Powers, trying to turn you into her Mini-Me and think and act just like her. Thank god or the universe that you broke away from her spell. Otherwise she would have some kind of demonic immortality by having taken over your body.

Sis

q1605 said...

I'm up for the demon immortality. I will use my powers for good.
Funny about the prancing. When I bailed out there was an AT&T commercial that had this odd music looping in the back ground. And every time I heard it I got this vision of her doing that thing she does when she is talking about push dancing.
Sort of like Elaine's shucking and jiving on Seinfeld.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DY_DF2Af3LM