Another Day At the Races

Rock Star told me the other day that her dad texted her.  Apparently he’s in the hospital.  I don’t wish to mock the ill but it’s amazing the lengths to which he’ll go in order to get his ego stroked.  He told her he is suffering from the same illness that killed his dad.  I think that’s the first time in years he’s referred to him as his dad.  Usually he refers to him by name.  I think that’s part of his angst shtick.  “Oh, this man I called Dad all my life isn’t really my father based upon my mom’s say so; so now I shall call him by his name instead of referring to him as Dad.  Feel sorry for me.  I am a man without a father.”

He ups the ante by telling her how scared he is, especially since this killed his dad.  Yeah, you keep forgetting, CF, that your dad was in his 80s; you are not even 50 yet!  Then he delivers the knockout blow:  I want to see you before I die.  Oh. My. God!


It gets better!  At the same time he’s voicing his dying wish my child is sick herself.  Not dying sick, of course, but then again, she’s not the whiny ass little bitch he is.  She had been up all night, shaking, her head throbbing, throwing up.  She was burning up and her skin was clammy.  I didn’t ask if she ever told him she wasn’t feeling well herself but I doubt it.  He was far too invested in telling her his own sad story to inquire about his daughter and what she might be going through.

I would stop with that amazing meme and the incredible selfishness that is CF but the truth is I’m slightly curious as to who is fawning over the poor invalid.  Blockhead?  He’s got a job and a family.  He can’t be at the hospital 24/7.  His mom?  I suppose that could be a possibility if he’s being hospitalized close to her.  Otherwise, I’m going to have to go with a big fat NO.  She doesn’t travel unless it involves a plate of BBQ.  His sister?  Excuse me while I pick myself up off the floor from laughing.  No, no; she’s far too self-involved to spend much time at the hospital for her “little brother”.  Especially if it involves traveling a few hours.  Harley?  Again, if he’s hospitalized close to her I imagine she can probably tear herself away from having sex with other men and sending “inappropriate” pictures out to her male neighbors.  Otherwise, she’s got a job, four kids, and lives several hours away.  Such a pity, isn’t it?  I would say this may be his first taste of life without me as his doting wife but I know he’ll simply rewrite history to fit his current story.  Instead of recognizing that I would be visiting him every day and telling him everything was going to be ok, probably wiping away his tears, while I was holding down the fort and taking care of kids, pets, and house, he is undoubtedly telling himself that I would be out doing a joyful dance that he was on death’s door and would never have popped my head in for even a second.  I hope he’s enjoying the solace.

5 thoughts on “Another Day At the Races

  1. Well, you’re not divorced yet… and he’s probably too lazy to have changed a will or his insurances.

    May he go quickly and eat shit in purgatory for a few hundred years while you live well on the payout.

    You didn’t say the disease but the men in Cheater’s family die of suicide and/or cirrhosis. It couldn’t happen to more deserving men.


    1. This isn’t even something chronic. I just wanted to try to protect anonymity until the divorce.

      You said what I was too kind to say! Although I did say, “Wait until he finds out what he ends up paying for this! Looks like the family deductible will be met.” This new company’s insurance isn’t that impressive from what little I can tell. And I did a quick tabulation in my head. I’m pretty sure I need him to live. Sadly he’s now worth more alive than dead to me.


      1. Don’t forget SS! You’d get a bundle, monthly, in addition.

        Cheater’s life insurance isn’t that great but if he died, I’d get $140K from that and $2900/month from SS for the next decade, then $1400/month after that until I die.

        Cheater is worth way more to his family, dead. Makes me want to pay for his booze.


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