Thursday, October 25, 2012

Deal with it.

The unfunny thing about the disordered is that in their war of taking all and leaving nothing behind, their tenacity for destruction ultimately kills that which they champion. Like a kid that grabs the whole pie for himself and then drops it making his get away.
My mother knows the price of everything and the value of nothing. She'll fight tooth and nail to avenge the indignity suffered at the hands of a careless cashier, yet let a financial adviser sell her the least performing portfolio in history. Contractors routinely take her money and bail with the job half finished. Service men repair unbroken appliance's just to shut her up.
She tried to entice me into her web with the promise of a new car. Even a house. But the stand that cost her a relationship with me was from me adding a clearance priced pizza cutter to her grocery tab and giving it to my ex-wife.
The cutter was symbolic as much for her as it was for me. To her it represented losing the war of driving me and my ex-wife apart. For me it was the last straw in a life of being badgered by minutiae from a woman who would end some one's life for a price.

And so I walk on and think I am done. Certainly I have paid enough dues for one life. It's been a hard fight just to keep my head above water. Now there can be no where to go but up.
Guess again.
You can't swing a dead cat without hitting some douche canoe that wants to reinvent your wheel.
Everywhere I turn, there is one more boring and selfish fucktardashian waiting to jack up my shit box. It just never stops.
All I need is to fall in line. They will do my thinking for me.
Dudes and Dudettes, I already have a mother and a congressman.
I didn't come this far to hand over the keys of my life to someone I don't even know.
I think I will be cremated.
I don't need one of these goons forcing me into the position I will lie for all eternity.


Vanci said...

This is a powerful post that struck me on a lot of levels. I identify with a lot of what you said and I'll be thinking about it for awhile.

In the meantime, though, can I just say that this is sentence you wrote:
"You can't swing a dead cat without hitting some douche canoe that wants to reinvent your wheel."

deserves a life-time achievement award for the Best Sentence Ever Written Anywhere About Anything.

I want to go find a dad cat just to swing it around because I could stand some hitting of douche canoes with dead cats right now, especially those who want to reinvent my wheel.

You are the word master and I am totally a fan.


vicariousrising said...

Agree with Vanci -- you've got a book in you, my friend and crazy master of seeming non-sequiturs.

Door mat said...

I agree too, a book in the making for sure! I'm new to this (which I believe you know), but this resonates with issues of my own past that I have buried in a shallow grave to save myself the trouble. The fact and point you made about the symbolism has awoken many memories for me that were not dealt with, only burried. The first gift my partner and I were given from his brother (the nasty golden brother and narcissist) was a knife. A large one, and it was addressed to the both of us. My gift from the golden brothers girlfriend at the time was perfume, which is lovely, but the label (stock standard with a variety of choices) had "ho ho ho to DM from gm and partner". It's so wonderfully validating to hear that I'm not the only one being put into a position where those gifts are taken by what they're trying to achieve in meaning. To be clear, our (my partner and I's) gift to them as a couple was a night at a 'luxuary' cinema whee they had recliner seating each, no under eighteens allowed, and food and alcohol vouchers. Golden brother's partner adored the gift and gesture. But that was that. We went home with a knife to out new home, and perfume that was adorned with the message ho,
People suck.
I don't mean to take over your post at all, just adding how and why thus reinforced my boundaries with the golden one. So thanks, I feel a lot less alone in such awkward and subtle experiences from this post. And I hope you don't mind me adding you to my reading list (or who I follow - I don't really understand that just yet lol).

Door mat said...

Sorry about the typos. My iPhone constantly knows better and leaves me looking like an illiterate.

q1605 said...

Hi Doormat. Drop in anytime. I saw someone not wanting you to call you that but I have felt like one enough of my life that I get it.
I really appreciate these comments. You guys are the best. And the best writers. You make me blush sometimes and at my age that is not easy to do.

Jonsi said...

"Like a kid that grabs the whole pie for himself and then drops it making his get away."

Since we're all talking about how awesome this post is, I'm going to drop my vote for that being my favorite line. Great imagery. Great point.

Tundra Woman said...

Of course it wasn't about the pizza cutter per se, it was about your absolute audacity to act with autonomy AND for you to give something to (gasp!) another WOMAN! BAD BOY Q! BAD BOY ;)
I don't wanna hijack either, but I got thrown through a department store glass display case over a pair of panty hose when I was 18/19 by Psychobitch. No, they weren't for me, they were for her-the alleged crime? My suggested method of payment, ie, I offered to pay for them.
Yeah, I hear ya Doormat on the "F-U Gifts." They have positively mastered the art of gift-giving-as-a-shot-to-the-heart. Or a knife in the back.

Gladys said...

"Like a kid that grabs the whole pie for himself and then drops it making his get away." <--this reminds me of the Aesop's Fable or whatever about the monkey who reaches into the jar to get a fist full of peanuts. With his fist clenched, he can't get his hand out. But he WILL NOT let go of his peanuts.

NOBODY will ever tell me what to do again. Except maybe the FBI. Or this damned hurricane. But threats? I'll swing a dead cat at your face.

I heartily concur with the mob, Q. Write a book.

jessie said...

I was going to save my "gift giving hall of shame" post for Christmas time...still might. But some of my favorite gifts from the in-laws: mouthwash, deodorant, and a crow bar. Merry f'n Christmas I guess.

q1605 said...

I would like a crow bar. I would use it to burglarize their house while they are on vacation.

upsi said...

"I didn't come this far to hand over the keys of my life to someone I don't even know."

Fuck yeah to all comments already and I add the above quote as another classic.

Great post, Q!

mulderfan said...

These whacks jobs will gleefully destroy whatever shred of good is left in their relationships just so they can say, "Look at me. I showed them!"

Fuck 'em!

Tundra Woman said...

Ohhhh, will soon be the season (Ms. jessie!) for the glorious gatherings of the ClusterB FOOlishness to demonstrate "Family (in)Fidelity," "LOVE, Narc-Style" and the "Gifts-Beyond-Reason" not to mention sanity, bad taste to the down-right, WTF?
"Here's a door mat for your front door. (Raise eyebrows, peer down nose, pained expression as if they have just inhaled the SBD Fart par excellence.) Isn't just PERFECT? Yes, I thought of you IMMEDIATELY when I saw it in (name some upscale purveyor-meanwhile, you've seen it in the Dollar Store, it's ALWAYS there on auto-reorder) and thought of YOU!!!"
Kinda makes ya feel like a regular ol' marshmallow melt as that lump in your throat is choking back the tears that are actually telling YOU it's time to terrorize the bejeebus out of the "giver" and "company."
And SWEAR off NFOO-LISHNESS for the rest of your days on this earth ;)
Door mat, honey, I mean absolutely NO DISRESPECT here at all, OK? But I kid you not: That is a true N-FOOlishness factiod-not "story." Don't mean to take your screen name in vain, OK?

Door mat said...

None taken, but thanks for saying so.

Tundra Woman said...

Little One, I'm learnin' to take nothin' for granted. Thanks for takin' my words EXACTLY as they were stated.
And welcome to the world of Blogging. I hope and pray you continue to sing your own song. And ignore my spelling mistakes. A few strokes have fouled my vowels. (Better them than the "B's" eh?!) Not to mention flummox spell-check with depressing frequency.
And to think I used to be a walking dictionary, calculator and still know how to use a slide rule, a compass and a map.
If I wasn't a cadaver doner-wait one: There's ANOTHER word I can't find except on my card that says something to the effect of, "She's DEAD. Haul her carcass to thus-and-sich-medical facility so people can use it for something. Hopefully useful. If not, for fun. You have NO CLUE what's happened to/with/for/in conjunction with that dead old lady, but wow, what a damn adventure. Thanks for the ride, see ya!"
I should be stuffed and in a museum. ;) Called "Antiquities."

vicariousrising said...

Q, I've gotta ask you:

How in the bloody hell did Trisha trick you into believing she was ok?

Sorry. My curiosity sometimes gets the best of me.

q1605 said...

Sorry VR. Q went to shit and the hogs are him.

Tundra Woman said...

Yeesch q.
Have ya not learned to listen to yer Elders yet?
Neither have I ;)

Anonymous said...

"AND for you to give something to (gasp!) another WOMAN! BAD BOY Q! BAD BOY ;)"

That's it, it's like some kind of Oedipus complex. She's fine with him having one night stands with girls where there's no emotion involved or relationship, but when it comes to having a wife or real emotional commitment, no way Jose.

Q's Sis

q1605 said...

It's creepy to the max.

Anonymous said...

f'ing creepy! LOL

Speaking of the F word, we saw Argo, and it's an awesome movie! lots of F words for Q, too.