My Valentine

I’ve been mostly ignoring Valentine’s Day these past two years, and I’ve been struggling with lots of self defeating thoughts recently. I had a little pep talk with myself at lunch yesterday and in keeping with my theme of not letting the bastard keep me down I went out and bought my kids a little Valentine’s Day gift. Nothing elaborate- a Hershey cupid and a bag of Lindor chocolates which they love.

After Rock Star got home from work she gave me the Valentine she had made for me.


Isn’t that the sweetest thing? It pretty much made my night. I know I’m loved but I’m glad to see she thinks I’m strong and powerful. She’s wrong but I’m still glad she thinks it’s true.

I wonder if any of  Cousinfucker’s four fake kids made him anything for Valentine’s Day. He tossed his real children aside for those little fuckers and their whore mother’s nasty ass pussy so I hope it was worth it. I may hate my life. I may dread getting up every single day, but at least my kids love me. Cousinfucker threw that away.




My Heart Sings

I was having a conversation with my daughter a week or so ago. I don’t even remember what we were talking about exactly or how it came up but she stated, “I’m happy.” <Jaw drop>

“You are?” I asked her, astonished. Believe me, this was the first time I had come close to hearing anything like this. In fact, I had just asked her probably no more than 2 weeks earlier if she was liking it at her new high school more now that people were starting to notice her, she had made friends, and had joined the cheerleading team. She shrugged and replied, “Eh.”

Not this time, though! This time she went on to say that she was just really happy. She had her good friends and her cheer teammates. She had a fantastic mom and an okay brother. Again, I had to stifle a cry of joy because that’s the nicest thing she’s said about her brother in ages. She loves her job and is “in” with the managers. She’s not even that bothered anymore about not having her license because so many of the people she knows here don’t have them either.

She’s happy! Both of my kids are happy and settled. As the old song sings, “Two out of three ain’t bad.”

Random Musings

I’ve had several people tell me I should write for a living.  That’s a horrible idea.  Not because I’m not good at it.  I don’t have time for fake modesty.  I’ve been writing since grade school; I know I’m fairly decent at this.  No, it’s a horrible idea because I feel such pressure when I have to write.  I would be no good with deadlines.  That was one of the reasons I had reservations about doing a blog.  Could I keep up with it?  Would I keep up with it?  I am so glad I have all of those Blasts From the Past that I can use.  It takes a huge load off of me.  I figure they are things I wrote before I had an actual blog so why not use them?  Plus, a large part of me really wants some outside eyes on them so people can see that what I wrote was not terribly offensive.  It’s not like I was constantly lambasting him.  While I’m not reprinting everything I wrote previously I didn’t leave out anything important. So here go my random musings.  Enjoy!

I had a lovely Memorial Day weekend.  My nephew graduated and he had an awesome graduation party with another kid from his class.  The food was good and the decorations were really cute.  My nephew is also a hoot.  I don’t get to spend a lot of time with him so unfortunately I don’t know him as well as my other nephew or my nieces.  He was the class president and raised goats.  He introduced all of us to his girlfriend which was nice.  He had several different paths he could have taken after graduation but he has decided to attend my alma mater which is very exciting to me.

In other news relating to my family I saw my other brother and his wife for the first time in almost three years.  There has been a bit of a family fall out related to his daughter.  It’s really stupid, trivial stuff.  Long story short I got tired of constantly being the one to reach out so I waited for him.  It was quite the strange reunion.  They pretty much ignored us at the graduation ceremony but walked right up to us at the party and talked.  I asked my sister-in-law what she had been up to and she replied, “Nothing,” then asked me the same.  “I moved to my current state, found out my husband was cheating on me and now I’m divorcing his ass.”  Her jaw dropped.  “You were supposed to say ‘Nothing much’!” she told me, shocked.  Then I dropped the bombshell that the OW was his cousin and that this had not been his first time doing it.

We also got to see the littlest Awesome.  None of us besides my nephew have seen her since she was 3.  She’s missing teeth and looks so grown up compared to that toddler I last saw.  She’s so cute but really has no idea who I am.  She didn’t even know she had other cousins.  I’m happy for my niece, though, that she finally gets to spend time with her little sister.

Another niece followed me home.  She and Rock Star drove in one car; Picasso and I were in my car.  Turns out he’s not a fan of driving through the mountains.  “I don’t want to die at age 13!” he tells me dramatically.  I told him I didn’t want to die at age 47.  “You wouldn’t know it by the way you’re driving around these mountains!”  Let it be known I wasn’t even close to the edge so I don’t know why he was bellyaching.

Rock Star turned 16.  She’s still really wanting a car.  She’s going to be very disappointed because I would be shocked if her dad comes through for her.  I’m hoping to be able to pull off this surprise party I’m planning for her.  If not, she’ll just be having a party.  No surprise to it!

In other news, and honestly, this is probably what I should have led with, I made noodles the other day.  I’ve got to say I was not all that impressed.  I had heard people talk about how fabulous homemade noodles are and how the taste is so superior to store bought noodles.  I’m going to have to disagree.  Now, my noodles were a bit thick so if I do decide to try them again I’m going to have to roll that dough out even thinner.  In the end though I just didn’t think they tasted any better than what I’ve bought.  It’s not that making them was that difficult but it was definitely more work than picking some up from the grocery store.  I’ll be sure to let you know if I decide to try it again and if my results are better with a thinner noodle.  I know you rush right over to my blog to get the latest recipes.

Just saw this on FB recently:  Happily married husband and wife week.  Holy shit!  They get an entire week?  Is there an Unhappily married husband and wife week?  An “I’m Going to Remain Married to My Spouse While I Have Sex With Someone Else Until I Decide the Perfect Time to Leave Her/Him week?  How about a “Yes, I’m Still Married to That Asshole Who’s Fucking His Cousin” week?  I have so many ideas!

Speaking of remaining unhappily married to cheating asswipes I am still branded.  Nine months later my finger continues to carry the indentation where my engagement/wedding ring sat for twenty plus years.  I had hoped it would be gone by now.

Finally, I have 2 new favorite words.  Tickety-boo is the most recent one.  It means OK or fine.  I’m trying to use it in place of OK in my every day language.  It confused Rock Star.  I figured it would.

The best new word I discovered though is fard.  It means to apply cosmetics to the face.  I laughed when I read the meaning.  “Next time you’re putting on make-up I’m going to ask you if you’re farding and you’re going to have to say yes!” I told Rock Star.  I have the mind of a ten year old boy sometimes.  Sure enough, next day she’s sitting at the table putting on her make-up.  I snap a quick picture and caption it, “Rock Star is farding!”   Even my nieces are in on it now.  Did you fard?  Yes, I farded.  I only put eye liner on today so I guess I lightly farded.  Oh, I crack myself up!

These can’t all be Pulitzer Prize material.  And that’s tickety-boo!

A Bit Of This & A Bit Of That

I will be off to see my family this weekend so you’ll be seeing a lot of Blasts From the Past.  I’m heading out to watch my nephew graduate from high school and will be hanging out with one of my very best friends from high school, at least for a few hours.  Rumor has it that I have a niece who will be following me back to my house for a week.  Hooray!  I love company!  Now I just need to get our pool up and running.  It’s been so rainy and cool here these last 3 weeks I wasn’t sure pool weather would ever come around again.

In the meantime my mom has informed me that she doesn’t like the fact that STBX SIL & MIL have what she considers to be cool names while I’ve only referred to her as Elderly P.I.  I pointed out that Jezebel and Tammy Faye are not exactly complimentary names but she didn’t care; she wants something better.  I would also like to point out that it was my brother who christened her with that name.  I gave her the option of picking her own name but she doesn’t know what she wants.  I was thinking “My Mom” is fine all by itself seeing as how I don’t refer to her as anything but “Mom”; I also considered The Rock but didn’t know if that was too similar to Rock Star.  If you get a chance feel free to throw out a suggestion.

I hope you all have a wonderful, relaxing weekend.  This year I will spend it celebrating my nephew’s graduation but in general Memorial Day weekend is not a time of picnics and potlucks, lakes and pools, and beers and BBQs for us.  This is the fourth Memorial Day weekend that we will spend honoring a family member.  He was KIA in June of 2012.  He had been in Afghanistan for 3 days when he volunteered for a mission and was killed by an IED. He left behind a 23 year old widow whom he had married only 6 months earlier, his two younger siblings, his father, and his mother, who I know struggles even four years later coming to terms with what happened to her oldest child.  Her grief is palpable and this weekend is going to be extremely tough for her. I didn’t know him very well because we lived hundreds of miles apart, but his mom is one of my favorite cousins.  We now live in the same state and she is the one I have gotten together with a few times since moving here.  I ache for the loss of such a promising young man.  I ache for his mom and his siblings.  I hurt because my beautiful, vivacious cousin hurts.

It would be easy to become self-righteous.  THIS is what Memorial Day weekend is all about.  It’s not about a long weekend that kicks off summer.  It’s not about opening your pool or taking your boat out or drinking all three days.  It’s about honoring our fallen.  But you know what?  I’m glad people are out there celebrating.  I’m glad more people think of Memorial Day weekend as a kickoff to the summer than as a heart-wrenching, painful reminder of what has been lost.

I think CF enjoyed the mourning aspect of this holiday.  It fed into his narrative of the poor put upon victim, the emotionally traumatized soldier.  Here’s the thing- he was proud of the fact that he brought all his men back home alive.  He never mentioned losing classmates.  As far as I know he never lost anyone close to him and yet he used this as an excuse to mope about and pretend that this was such an important weekend to him.

We planted flags the last two years.  The first Memorial Day after I found out about Harley we went to a Memorial Service- me, him, the kids.  It was very nice.  And very sobering.  We took the kids to the cemetery and planted flags at soldier’s graves.  Last year we planned on going to the cemetery where so many of my family is buried.  The kids and I went alone because he was too busy dealing with his “PTSD” and texting his whore of a cousin.  Wow- he’s telling his cousin how much he’d like to fuck her and I’m planting a flag at my cousin’s grave.  I guess we have a radically different approach to how we view family.

I don’t celebrate Memorial Day weekend like I used to think of celebrating.  I’ll be honest; seeing as how I lived with Captain Grumpy Pants we never did a lot for the holiday anyway.  Now I don’t have the heart to celebrate and make lavish plans when I know how difficult it is for my cousin.  I will, however, celebrate my nephew’s graduation.  He has a lot of exciting possibilities ahead for him and that deserves celebration.  I will remember and honor the fallen.  And unfortunately, on Monday, the actual observed holiday, I will be driving all day long.  For the rest of you though, have fun!  Enjoy your time off if you have time off.  Drink a beer or a margarita or a Pepsi, for crying out loud!  And yes, do pause to remember that there are many people out there that aren’t celebrating; they’re being presented with flags and other awards because they’ve lost someone.  Then go out and celebrate some more.  Enjoy this weekend.  Live!  You are alive; don’t take that for granted.  There are far too many who lost their lives far too soon.

Think About the Children!!!

I have written about my kids’ non-relationship with their father.  I’ve wrestled with that fact but I’m pretty sure I’m done.  Maybe if he had been more active in their lives when we were married I might feel differently but then again, if a frog had wings it wouldn’t bump its ass when it hopped.

I think we’re programmed by well-meaning do-gooders to believe that it’s the end of the world if the children lose out on a relationship with the other parent.  I want to be clear I’m not talking about one parent sabotaging the other and/or actively playing keep away with the kids.  I’m talking about situations where the kids have decided, “No more!” I’m talking about situations like my own where the nub walks out the door like he’s going to work and instead he gets in a car and drives several states and seven hours away from his kids.

It’s sad how many situations there are like mine.  Or more precisely, my kids’.  I don’t give a damn if I ever see his face again.  Wife, over on Honey and the Homewrecker is dealing with pretty much the exact same situation only her kids were much younger and her ex moved much further away.  There are countless chumps over on Chump Lady who talk about their kids either spending very little time with the other parent or never seeing the other parent.  In a lot of those cases the ex moves on and never looks back.

Chump Lady is good at reminding those parents, all parents really, that kids only need one sane parent.  If they’re lucky enough to have two that’s fantastic, but one will do.  I think we sometimes get so stuck on this idea that the two parent intact home is the best one that we don’t see beyond that.

Hell yes I wanted my kids raised in an intact home.  I purposefully got married before having kids because it was important to me.  I forgave Cousinfucker his transgressions the first time around because I didn’t want to put my kids through that.  I wanted them to have their mom and dad 24/7.  I didn’t want them to have to deal with all the shit they are dealing with now.  But in the end they’re going to be fine.

Rock Star told her dad once that it makes her sad when she sees little girls with their dads because she doesn’t have one.  Here’s the important piece of that particular puzzle.  He never was much of a dad.  She began competing in second grade at age seven, almost eight.  She had six to seven meets in a season.  I can probably count on one hand the number of meets he’s been to.  I’m pretty sure the total stands at five.  He has never once seen her compete in high school.  He never attended a single meet when she competed in Excel once we moved.  I would drive 2-3 hours for a meet, by myself, watch her meet and text him her scores.  He attended a grand total of two parent-teacher conferences, and it’s possible I’m being generous with that second one.  I could go on and on.  The main point is that he wasn’t around for much.  He never took it upon himself to go see her in her room and ask her about her day.  If she came to him he would inquire.  But it was always on both kids to seek him out.

Recently I found out that Picasso often told his friends that he wished his dad would do some of the things that their dads did with them. Things like shooting hoops or tossing a ball. He told me the other day he has no interest in playing the Lego video games because that’s something he shared with his dad. It brings back memories he doesn’t want to remember.

The sad part is if you asked CF he would tell you he was a good dad. According to Harley he is a wonderful dad. A friend of mine recounted a story to me that I had long forgotten. She said we had all met for dinner shortly after Rock Star was born. CF didn’t talk much but what she remembered was the way he spent the entire evening playing with the baby, rocking her, talking to her. I apparently remarked that no matter what at least he would be a great dad.

The story CF tells is how he taught Picasso and our neighbor how to hit a baseball. He bragged about how he told the coach to back up and how both kids hit it so far. I’m sure those events happened, especially the one my friend remembers, but I don’t remember them. You would think I would.   What I remember is taking my son out to the baseball fields and pitching so he could practice his batting. My BFF wanted to know where his father was. “I am woman; here me roar!” Just because I had a vagina didn’t mean I couldn’t teach him to hit!

So this is my line of thinking… I’ve always been the one there for them.  The only thing that has changed is that Cousinfucker no longer lives in our house.  That, and we have less money.  I’m still the sane parent.  I’m still taking them around to the places they need to go.  I’m still making sure they have everything they need.  I’m still the one who signs homework sheets and permission slips and writes checks for lunch money.  How do you miss a person who ignored you?  How do you miss a person that didn’t contribute?  I don’t want to sound cold hearted or like I’m making light of whatever Rock Star and Picasso may be feeling but they can’t miss what they never had.  They can miss the idea and maybe that’s what Rock Star is mourning.

I am still trying to catch up on all the archived posts on Chump Lady so I’m not sure when I caught this gem from one of the commenters:  I went through a thing when I was younger when I really craved an awesome Dad; the kind that my best friend had. She was daddy’s little girl and I wanted that too. But my mom always would say you can’t regret what you don’t have, you just be grateful for what you DO have. You can’t make other people fit into a mold of how you want them to be. It’s a waste of your time.  That’s the way I feel about it.  I’m sorry I made a horrible choice in a father for them but I can’t change the past.  Better to focus on what they do have.

In fact, another commenter talked about how she and her daughter actually began a scrapbook that began with D-Day and they chronicle all the new things they are doing in their lives.  I thought that was awesome!  She goes on to say: Don’t listen to those idiots who say your children need their father no matter what a dickwad he is. Bullshit. Life is hard enough. Kids don’t need dog turds in their lives any more than you do.

She’s right.  There are all sorts of reasons that it may be better to have a parent out of your life.  Abuse and addiction spring to mind.  Safety issues would be another.  None of that is relevant with Cousinfucker, although he did take to drinking quite a bit.  In his case it actually made him more bearable.

As I said earlier I won’t campaign to get him out of their lives.  He’s already doing a bang up job of that.  But I’m giving up feeling like I have somehow failed them because of his actions.  I’m done with thinking that it’s sad he’s run off and abandoned them.  I no longer feel like every kid has to have two active parents.  I have a niece and nephew who lost their dad when they were young- 5 and not quite 2.  My stepsister never remarried.  They grew up without a dad and they’re both fine.  One graduates from college in aerospace (aeronautical?) engineering in less than a month.  The other will be finishing her first year of college.  Doesn’t sound like two kids who are barely hanging in there.  I’m sure there are countless stories such as that, where one parent has died or abandoned the kids, and the remaining parent steps up and takes care of business.

I no longer care what he does.  At one point I felt like if he had a relationship with them that would be good for them.  These days though I see what he does to Rock Star every time he texts her and it’s not good.  He makes her feel like shit.  He wants her to feel sorry for him and she ends up feeling bad.  Not bad for him, just bad like she’s a bad person.  She’s not.  She’s a kid who’s had her entire life turned upside down.  So I’m not sure what kind of good he would do them.  After all these years together I fear he’s simply too immature and entitled to ever contribute positively towards either child.  Instead of thinking that it’s sad I now shrug my shoulders and say, “Don’t worry, kids; I’ve got this.”  The reality is I was always the one who had it.  His absence is merely pointing that out.

A Letter to My Kids

Hey Kids,

The time has come for you to find out that your mom is not all powerful.  That I am, in fact, human and I make mistakes.  So I want to apologize to both of you.

I’m sorry I picked such a wretched excuse for a human being to be your father.  He has failed you in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine.  For years I listened to him whine on and on about his father and how he was rejected by him.  But you know what?  He always financially supported him and that’s more than I can say for your own dad.

I’m sorry I chose to be a stay at home mom instead of working a job so that when this time came I could support you without his help.  Don’t get me wrong.  I loved being at home with the two of you.  I loved being the one to take you places and plan school parties and volunteer at your schools.  I loved going on field trips and being here at home at the end of day.  I loved being able to watch you at all of your meets and games, being the one to drop you off and pick you up, being able to travel with you.  I truly did.  In hindsight, though, I never should have done it.  I should have worked.  I should have told your dad that his career wasn’t more important than my own job.  I should have followed my passion and done something with my life aside from being your mom.  I know that sounds like a shitty thing to say and I don’t mean it to be because, again, I loved being here for you.  I still do.  But I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place now.  I’m sinking fast and I’m taking both of you with me.

I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to him more and baby and cater to him less.  Maybe if that had been the case he would have left sooner and I would have more options.  Maybe it would have helped and he never would have done any of this.

I’m sorry I can’t keep you here through graduation, Rock Star.  I cry every time I think about it even though everyone tells me you’re going to be fine.  I’m going to end gymnastics for you forever.  I’m going to take away you being captain for your team.  I know high school gymnastics was not what you wanted and won’t take you to college but it was better than no gymnastics at all.  I’m taking you from a place where you are a very big fish in a pretty small pond and I’m going to turn you into a goldfish in the ocean, if goldfish could survive in salt water.  I feel like I’m ruining your high school experience and I am so so sorry for that, my sweet girl.  Once again, I listened to your dad whine for years about how he was constantly moved as a child and never attended the same school each year.  He never switched high schools though, a privilege he is denying you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t do whatever it was that I needed to do to stay married and give you two a stable home, even if one of your parents wasn’t always sane or even around much.  If I knew what I did wrong, or what I didn’t do that he wanted me to do, I would have taken the appropriate action.  But I have no idea what it is I did or didn’t do that made your dad choose to have an affair.  Honestly, I know  that I can only be responsible for my own actions and he is responsible for his.  I am truly sorry, though, that I couldn’t make this marriage work.

Finally, I am so sorry I agreed to this move.  I am so sorry I tore your lives apart for this shit storm we are in now.  I’m sorry for the pool that we are probably never going to swim in even though we’ve spent a crapload of money on it.  I’m sorry about your friends and your sports and your schools.  I’m sorry about everything that you’ve had to lose and all that you’re still going to lose.  I’m sorry I don’t have a home of our own to move us to.  I’m sorry for all the dreams you have that aren’t going to come true because we have to leave.  I’m sorry for all the plans that you are making that aren’t going to happen.  I’m sorry we’re going to be poor and your lives are going to be turned so far around you aren’t even going to recognize them.  I’m sorry for everything.

Your uncle tells me every time I say that that it’s not me who is ruining your lives- it’s your dad.  I’m here, though, and he’s not.  So I’m the one who is apologizing.  I cannot apologize enough for what is going to become of your lives.  I would say I should have picked better but then I wouldn’t have you two.  At any rate, I failed you both, and for that I’m sorry.  I’ll do my very best to make it up to you somehow.  I promise.



Welcome to the Jungle, The Grand Finale

Note:  This is the final installment in this five part series.  Click on the link to see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4.

Did I ever tell you about the time I had dinner with a convicted killer?  Yeah, that was fun.  Tammy Faye has an interesting assortment of siblings.  Some have done very well.  Some have led very hard lives.  She has a sister who has had not one, but two, husbands land in prison.  Both for murder.  I’m a little murky on the details but I think one of them is (or was) actually on death row.  It is possible he died in prison.  Again, murky on the details so don’t take this as gospel.  I do know, however, that death row or not, he was in prison for murder.  The second husband who landed in prison (and truthfully I don’t know if he was the first or second husband) was there because he stabbed a guy.  In self defense.  Twenty some times, I believe.  Now, you would think that would not be a relationship you wished to rekindle but you would be wrong.  He got out of prison and Tammy Faye’s sister remarried him.  He was over at Tammy Faye’s brother and sister-in-law’s house, hanging out and chilling.  I remember meeting the guy, although I’m not sure when.  I do know it was handled like it was no big deal. In fact, the way we found out he was even around was when Zack had called home and was talking to his mom.  At the time, she and Pastor Fake were living with the brother and sister-in-law who had come and moved them from the small town where he had pastored a church into their own home.  They were passing the phone around when suddenly “he” gets on the phone and announces, “This is the second degree murderer.”  Note:  That’s not actually how he announced himself.  He used his real name.  Yep, this guy was over there drinking coffee and playing cards.  Absolutely no big deal.  Jesus loves us all, right?  Eventually, they divorced once again because of his drinking and abusive ways.  Shocker, I know.

Of all the stories I think this final one is my favorite.  Zack is the only child of his mother and father.  His mother has one other child by her first husband, Jezebel.  His father was 20 years older than his mother and he had been married twice before and had 2 different sets of children with each of the previous wives- 4 additional siblings from him.  Got that?  Good, because now it’s going to get really complicated.

His mother is one of 10 or more siblings.  Her dad (sperm donor) had 6 kids, I believe, with his first wife.  She died when the youngest was just a baby and all the kids, except Tammy Faye, were adopted by various relatives.  Tammy Faye was adopted by family friends (this is also why Cousinfucker claims that Harley is not really his cousin- because of this adoption that occurred many many years before either of them were even born!).  He then went on to have 4 more with another woman.  Didn’t raise any with her either.   They do keep popping out of the woodwork so it’s hard to keep track.  Plus, at one point he was trying to lay claim to John Mellencamp as possibly being his son.  Anyway, Tammy Faye has a sister.  We’ll call her Harriet.  Tammy Faye marries Big Daddy, Zack’s father.  Big Daddy has a son from a previous marriage.  We’ll call him Harry.  Cousinfucker’s Aunt Harriet ends up getting married to his brother Harry.  Yes, his aunt married his brother.  That cousin fucking thing doesn’t look so bad now, does it?  It gets better.  Harriet eventually leaves Harry for another woman.  This woman had a job as Cinderella or Snow White at DisneyWorld.  Oh, but wait!  It gets even better.  Cinderella leaves Harriet for Harriet’s brother.

I swear I could write a telenovela based only on his family and their hijinks. The good news is it’s no longer my circus and they are no longer my monkeys.  No more shit eating chimps for me!

Welcome to the Jungle, Part 4

Note:  This is Part 4 of a five part story.  Click on the link for Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.  And as always if any of these stories are not true blame the lying liars who lie.  I’m just repeating what I’ve been told, although some of them are recited from personal experience.

Next up we have my STBX-MIL.  I’ve debated what to call her.  Dumb bitch just seems crass.  Judas would be appropriate.  Afterall, she sat in my kitchen last spring and told me how much she loved me and valued me and our relationship; she really wanted to get our relationship back on track because I had been her daughter-in-law for 20 years!  I’d been around longer than any of the other spouses.  All the while she’s saying that crap she has either already contacted Harley, urging her to get in contact with my husband, or she left my house and urged her soon after to call him.  You know, because he’s sad.  After the first affair with her.  Alas, Judas was a male and my Judas is female so I’m going to keep the religious angle and go with Tammy Faye Bakker.

Oh where to begin?  I suppose we could start with all of her misdeeds first.  Warm you up to the insanity before plunging you directly into it.  First, she almost cost us our 2nd house.  When we moved the first time we rented.  After we bought a house and sold it less than a year later we didn’t want to make that mistake again.  Our landlord ran a credit check on us and told us we had a credit card that had been rescinded. Turns out Cousinfucker gave his mother a credit card in his name when he got out of college.  She used it for around 5 years before getting into trouble with it and not being able to pay the bill.  She never bothered to tell him.  I don’t know whether she was trying to fix it on her own or if she simply thought he’d never find out.  I do know she claimed she gave the card back voluntarily and then after a period of time the credit card company turned the matter over to a collections agency.  Upon first hearing about it he told her to take care of it; she promised she would.  On Christmas Eve that year he got a phone call from a collection agency threatening to take him to court if he didn’t pay the balance.  That made for a fun holiday because you all should know by now how well he deals with stress.  Add that on top of the fact it’s a holiday *and* he has to go socialize with my family… It was lovely.  Four months later we’re moving and trying to buy a house.  When they do the credit check they find this delinquent credit card that has been turned over to collections and she keeps forfeiting whatever deal they make for payments.  He was livid.  I ended up getting a cash advance on an unused credit card we had and paying the damn thing off.  She promised to repay us but I think she ended up making about 3 payments before that nonsense was forgotten.

In another wise financial decision she decided to quit her job at the state, cash in her retirement and go into business with her brother-in-law.  That’s risky enough when you’re in your 40s.  It’s especially risky when you have had numerous health problems and you end up spending more time in the hospital than the attending doctors; seriously, the woman was in the hospital at least once a year, if not more.   Add on the fact your brother-in-law is a known embezzler and it’s flat out stupid.  People warned her repeatedly not to do it but she would not be swayed.  She didn’t like her boss and she wanted OUT.  She handed all of her money over to him and he spent it. On himself and his family.  Then he turned around and told her all the money was gone and she needed to get another job because that’s what he was doing.  They never recovered from that.   In the months leading up to our wedding she lavished us with cash and gifts.  After the wedding we were the ones helping them out- loans that were never paid back (including the credit card she ran up and then couldn’t pay), care packages, rent paid, car payments, groceries… It’s not like they were a line item in our budget but we did help out whenever we could.  They never paid for an airline ticket to come visit us and they rarely paid for a meal- Zack made sure of that.  We would go visit them and we still always paid.  Again, not a huge deal because we had it and I don’t have a problem with helping out family.  In an ironic twist, the boss that she left her job over, retired or transferred within a year or two.

The best part though is Pastor Fake became a pastor for a small church several hours away from where they had always lived.  They moved into a trailer on someone’s land and as always Tammy Faye was very excited about this new life.  Her landlord’s wife was going to teach her how to can and she was going to have a garden.  Eventually the embezzling brother-in-law who has cost them everything comes back with his family, having been run out of town and run out of money.  He and his family move in with them in this trailer they are renting.  Tammy Faye and Pastor Fake ended up getting kicked out because of letting another family live with them.

Similarly, when they moved back to their “hometown” Pastor Fake eventually became the pastor of Tammy Faye’s family church.  This came with a house adjoining the church.  Things worked out fine until once again they decided to let his sister, having finally divorced the embezzling husband, and her kids move in with them.  He eventually lost the church but before that I think they were required to start paying their own utilities.

In another act of stupidity she ended up getting fired from yet another job at the state, procured for her by a family friend, when she decided to take off from work to sit by her father’s bedside when he had surgery.  Now, first of all, Tammy Faye had already missed MANY days of work due to illness.  She even had co-workers giving her *their* sick days and vacation days so that she could still get paid.  Secondly, this father was her biological “sperm donor” for lack of better word.  She was adopted as a toddler after her mother died (this is covered in Part 5).  Suffice to say, this “man” never stuck around for any of his kids.  Yet when she’s faced with the choice of going to work and keeping her job, or sitting in a hospital waiting room all day while she waits for the results of her sperm donor’s surgery, she chooses to get fired.  She simply HAD to be there!

There are many stories of poor decisions just like this- the time she paid out over $100 for a life size Barbie doll for a grandchild instead of paying the electric bill, which resulted in them almost having their electricity turned off.  Why would she make such a stupid decision?  Well, because “God would provide”, of course!  Come to think of it, we bought the damn doll for her because they were sold out in her area and she sent us a check to cover the purchase.  The check bounced, of course.  So we ultimately bought the doll.  And I think, although I’m not positive, that someone else gave them the money for the electric bill.  I guess God did provide.  He provided people who provided for them.  Then there was the time Pastor Fake bought tires for someone when they could barely scrape together enough money to buy groceries.  And the time my mother loaned her $1000 to help her out with her car payment since they were behind.  The car ended up repossessed anyway and she only paid my mom around $150 of the money back.  I’m sure there are more but there have been so many over the years I can’t keep up with all of them.

Tammy Faye is another one who loves to live life through Facebook.  Every time my daughter posts a picture Tammy Faye is there gushing about how beautiful she is and “that’s my blood” and “I love you so much!”.  Yes, she loves her grandkids so much she saw them one time after we moved closer.  For years they claimed her various illnesses prevented her from traveling and yet she was able to travel 5 hours for a plate of what was supposed to be the best BBQ.  I’ve heard of them traveling hours for watermelon and bacon.  Now, perhaps Pastor Fake is going alone, or going with his current brother-in-law and she’s not part of this.  That could be.  I just always find it amazing how they can manage to take trips to see other people but could never travel to see us.  Even when I would drive over 20 hours to visit my family they couldn’t be bothered to meet me halfway between our towns which would have been a 2 1/2 hour drive for them.  Nope, I had to drive the full 5 1/2 hours down to their house because she just couldn’t travel. And Cousinfucker *demanded* that I take the kids down to see her.  His mantra for the last five-ten years has been, “I don’t think she’ s going to be live another year.”  So how could I deny a dying woman a last chance to see her beloved grandchildren?

Her grandchildren are so dear to her that one year when she came back home with us unexpectedly she said to me, “Well, now I don’t have to come out later on in the summer.”  We had arranged to fly her out to see the kids (kid?  I don’t remember if we had one or two at the time.).  I remember telling her, “The idea was for you to be able to see them more.  This visit will allow you to see them twice this summer.  It’s in addition to, not instead of.”  Make no mistake- this was not a woman who had better things to do than be bothered with her children’s offspring.  She helped out with Jezebel’s kids quite often.  She still does, to this day.  Unfortunately, seeing our kids meant traveling so they didn’t see them often.  In the last ten or so years it rarely happened unless we came to them.

For Christmas this year they gave my son a basketball.  A deflated basketball.  My son has never been into basketball.  He loves hockey.  He loves Legos and Star Wars.  He is an avid artist and video game player.  But a basketball player?  No.  He looked at me and said, “It’s like they don’t even know me!”  Son, I hate to break this to you but they don’t know you.  That might take time and effort.

She didn’t bother to come visit her son when he was in the psych ward either.  She called.  She didn’t come after he was released either.  Now, he would tell you that he told her not to come because she was getting sick and he was worried about her.  But I don’t care if I were on my death bed.  If my child was going into an inpatient facility I’m going to be there!  And if I think his horrible, evil wife is at the root of it I’m definitely going to be there!  But not them.  Nope.  Too much trouble.

My mother is still appalled at the time Tammy Faye went into rehab only days after I had arranged a surprise visit for her with the grandkids.  Yep, I drove both kids (ages 2 and 4, maybe?) the 7 1/2 hours down there.  Surprised her (with the full knowledge of Pastor Fake).  Two or three days later she goes into rehab for addiction to painkillers.  She had been addicted for years and yet she chooses this moment in time to get clean.  Now, it is possible that she couldn’t get her hands on anymore and therefore had no choice but to get off of them.  She and her various family members would frequently “share” medications.  Another lovely moment in this flying monkey circus.  I will say she is clean and has been ever since that happened, and the Lord has apparently performed a medical miracle because she is no longer on oxygen like she has been for the past ten years or so.

I think the best story about her is a tie between using her son’s bank account as an ATM or treating his paternity as a family joke.  I’ll let you decide.

Cousinfucker served in the first Gulf War.  While he was away he put his mother in charge of his bills so she had access to his account.  She and Jezebel both used his bank account as a freaking ATM while he was off fighting a war.  He came home thinking he would have thousands in his account and instead it was almost empty.  She swears she paid him back but I find that hard to believe.  And there is still a huge difference between being given a lump sum of $20,000 or something close to that, and being given small amounts of money over months, if not years.  Ironically, he tells me he gave his sister a large amount of money before he even left to help her pay off bills and leave her and her husband debt free.  Still wasn’t enough.  But I’m the one that spends all his money and wastes it.

The other contender for top fucked up story is how she treated his paternity.  To her credit she was not married and fooling around on her husband.  She was, however, seeing and sleeping with two men at the same time.  Two men who knew each other.  She got pregnant, named one of them as the father and married him.  They were married/divorced/married/divorced for around 11 years, I believe.  She always maintained she wasn’t certain she had named the correct man but he was a family man and the other guy was more of a player so she went with the “safer” choice.  Typing that out I’m not sure if this guy was married or not when he got her pregnant.  There is a substantial age difference between Cousinfucker and his dad’s next youngest child but that doesn’t mean anything.  Over the years family members would joke about this (on her side, of course).  Several of them would claim that CF looked just like the other guy.  It was not a secret.  It couldn’t have been any more out in the open if they had tried.  Then finally a few years after his dad died she supposedly told him that the other guy was his father and that she had known all along.  Why on earth she would wait 40 plus years to tell him this is beyond me.  I personally don’t think it’s true.  He shares way too many freak medical traits with the family he was raised in.  And of course he won’t get a DNA test done.  That might eliminate drama and Cousinfucker is nothing if not a drama queen.

I didn’t spend a lot of time with Zack’s father so we weren’t close.  But the things I heard about him were not great.  For starters, this “family man” she had chosen as her baby’s father was living with another woman at the time of his birth.  He denied him as his own in the beginning and supposedly, he called Zack up when he was in 6th grade and told him that he was not his father and Zack was no longer his son.  He also, if Tammy Faye is telling the truth, threatened to burn down their house if she tried to take it in the divorce.

The bizarre part is that Tammy Faye can be quite charming and likable.  Most people, in fact, DO like her.  I think it’s because most people don’t know about the incredible dysfunction that seems to follow her around.  You know who really likes her, though?  Harley.  Harley has gushed that she and Pastor Fake are two of her most favorite people.  Then again, Harley is a whore and we don’t value her opinion.


Welcome to the Jungle, Part 3

Note:  This is the third part of the story.  Here is Part 1, and here is Part 2.  As always, I am as truthful as the information given to me.  Some information is thanks to Google, some due to her husband, and some I have directly experienced.

Harley’s bio will be brief.  She’s been arrested at least 3 times according to my Google search- once for writing bad checks, once for failure to appear, and the third arrest is a mystery.  I have no idea why she was in that time.  Her husband has pretty much accused her of being an alcoholic and says she has a savior complex.  She is going to be getting her money’s worth with Cousinfucker.  Her husband also said she was sending “inappropriate pictures” to the neighbor this past summer.  This neighbor was quite perturbed when she began a full fledged affair with my husband but they are now once again “friends”.  I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she’s sending him “inappropriate” pictures once again. Oh yes, and she is, according to her husband, still having sex with him.  Isn’t she just the cutest thing ever?

Harley’s most favorite thing to do besides screw married men, is to block people on Facebook. She blocked me the first time around when Cousinfucker came back from Jezebel’s wedding.  He told her about the pictures I had around the house.  She told him she thought that was strange and then promptly blocked me.  After DDay I remember telling CF that blocking me was a stupid move because it put her on my radar.  Gradually I came to realize that was exactly the purpose.  I believe she blocked me hoping to incite a divorce.  I think she figured once she blocked me I would realize they were still involved and I would either be so livid I would throw him out, or I would confront him and demand that he choose between us and he would, of course, choose her.

This last time she set her sights on my daughter.  Rock Star (my new name for my daughter) laid into her dad because of Harley’s insipid message on Facebook about missing him.  He defended the whore and Rock Star ended up sending him a screenshot of her rambling.  He must have said something to the whore because she ultimately ended up blocking my child so that she could no longer see what was being written and “tattle” to her dad.

Looking back on their first affair and her subsequent actions I believe Harley is a manipulative, deceptive, gold digging whore.  As Rock Star says about her Facebook page:  It’s like she wants a Twitter account but doesn’t know how to operate it.  Rock Star has actually said she sometimes felt like she was reading a high school mean girl’s Facebook page back in those days before the whore blocked her.  I did a little research and found out that she didn’t start communicating in earnest with any of Zack’s family until after he dumped her the first time.  After that she couldn’t comment on pages enough.  She was everybody’s friend and she was always front and center.  And now, since the exhumation of this great romance, she has added on pretty much all the family members on Cousinfucker’s father’s side of the family. Let’s add attention whore to her resume, shall we?  My favorite part, though, was finding out from Tammy Faye that Harley had called her and checked on her several times after Zack dumped her the first time.  What a brazen bitch!

Here are some more priceless gems from Harley: The first time she and Zack were involved she kept leaving her phone out so that it would be found by her husband.  Now, I don’t know that she intentionally, or even subconsciously, left it out, but how stupid do you have to be to get caught TWICE?  Once again, I think she was hoping her husband would do her dirty work.  The second time she was discovered (again, still the first time they were involved) Zack asked her what she was going to do since her husband (I shall call him The Saint) knew they were involved again.  Harley’s loving response:  I’m not going to do anything.  I don’t care if he knows.

Much like Zack lied to her about his marriage and how awful and evil I am Harley has lied to him about The Saint.  Now, keep in mind this is a story Zack shared with me when we were “reconciling”.  She apparently told him that The Saint, a stay at home dad for over ten years, had put her into bankruptcy three times. I would bet money this came about when Zack was whining about how I spent all of his money.  When DDay #2 came along and The Saint was willing to talk to me I asked him point blank if that was true. Was poor, little Harley working 60-80 hours a week, working her poor whorish little fingers to the bone while that big bad Saint recklessly spent her money?  Turns out, according to him, they filed bankruptcy once- because a business they started up failed.  I again, point blank, asked him, “So you weren’t out there spending all her money, putting her in the poorhouse?”  He laughed and told me Harley didn’t even know what a budget was and that she and their daughter spent money like it was water.  I guess that explains the arrest for writing bad checks!  And why she was so eager to get down on her knees and suck her cousin’s dick.  She’s going to make all of her and her kids’ dreams come true, one blow job at a time, all the while managing to stay out of jail!


Welcome to the Jungle, Part 2

Note:  This is the second part of the story.  To see the first part, click here.  And once again all these stories have been told to me by Zack, or members of Zack’s family.  If they are not true accounts that is because lying liars who lie lied to me.

Incidentally, that is not his real name but I also know he hates the name.  Always said it reminded him of the kid on Saved By the Bell and he hated him for some reason.  I really wanted to name my son Zachary but he wouldn’t hear of it.  All because of that kid on Saved By the Bell.  Well guess what, asshole?  Now YOUR name is Zack!  Doesn’t Harley and Zack have a nice ring to it?  I’m trying to take the potty mouth down a notch so I may start referring to him as Zack on occasion instead of Cousinfucker all the time.

Now let’s get a little freakier!  I’ve made mention of my STBX-SIL, aka Jezebel.  Where do we start?  Again, something simple and easy to digest.  The first time I ever met Jezebel the entire family had plans to go to a Mexican restaurant.  Jezebel brought Chinese food with her into this Mexican restaurant.  She didn’t really want Mexican so she called to see if she could bring her own food.  I had never heard of such a thing.  That should have been my first clue that good ol’ Jezzy didn’t play by ordinary people’s rules.  She, like Cousinfucker, was very, very special.

This is the sister who loves to talk about how much she just loves her brother.  Pictures are worth a thousand words and she lives her life in pictures.  I think the happiest day of her life was when Facebook allowed you to have a profile picture AND a cover picture.  Now she could switch out 2 pictures all the time, instead of just one!  Seriously, I had to stop following her even when I did like her because I couldn’t stand the constant changing of her profile and cover pictures.  We get it!  You’re pretty.  Everyone tells you exactly how pretty.  We also get that you are madly in love with Husband #3 and have a new found love of all things outdoors.  Hey- could I see yet another picture of you hanging onto the “love of your life” or you dressed up in camouflage?  If you judged her by her Facebook and Instagram photos you would think she has a picture perfect life.  Reality is she couldn’t be bothered to actually visit her brother once in the last ten plus years (I’ll give her a break and stop counting once he began his incestuous affair with the whore).  In 21 years of us being together she visited 6 times- 4 of those times were for something other than just coming to see us.  She made a huge deal about CF being at her wedding and then spent probably less than 30 minutes with him the entire weekend; in fact, he’s not in a single wedding picture and if he’s to be believed (which is debatable) he wasn’t in any of the pictures because she sent him on a liquor run before the wedding and he almost missed her getting married. $500 for a plane ticket.  $500 for one stupid weekend and she sends him out to get more liquor and he almost misses the ceremony.  Nice.

Similarly, she’ll tell you how much she loves and misses her niece and nephew and it just tears her up inside to think she’ll never get to see them again but does she do anything to foster a relationship with them?  That would be a big fat no.  Aside from telling my daughter how pretty she is (before my daughter blocked her on all social media) and how she takes after Aunt Jezebel she does nothing.  They both have cell phones and email addresses.  Does she reach out to them?  No, not even a text and definitely not a phone call.  Has she ever offered to fly them out to her for a visit?  No.  Even offered to come and drive them back with her?  Again, no.  We already know that visiting them is not something she does because she hadn’t visited our home since my son was a baby and he’s now 13. No, she expected ME to bring them to HER and then after stabbing me in the back repeatedly she whines that I’m somehow keeping the kids from her.  Her relationship with her dear niece and nephew was always about convenience.   To be fair, she would always make the time to see them once or twice whenever I would bring the kids to them; however, she never went out of her way to have a relationship with either one of them.

She’s also the one who begged him to leave me.  Yet, despite my apparent mistreatment of him, when he voluntarily committed himself, due in part to her talking him into it, she did not once come visit him.  No, she left that up to me- the evil wife.  Then again, she had just spent two weeks with her new father-in-law who was hospitalized.  Of course, he lives in a state she likes to visit and they always have lots of fun things planned for her.  Lots of Facebook and Instagram picture opportunities to show off her wonderful new life!  Plus, her new husband’s family hasn’t caught on to her yet so they still think she’s fabulous.

If you look closely enough you’ll soon realize that everything she puts out for the world to see is about how much she is loved, what wonderful things other people are doing for her, what delightful goodies have been purchased for her.  My mom pointed this out to me once.  She said:  I see an awful lot about what her new husband is doing for her, but I never see anything about what she’s done for him.  ’Tis true.  There is an awful lot about how this person did this for her and this person did that. To be fair though she did post about surprising her new fiancé with a helicopter tour for his birthday.  That this came right after the delivery of our $5 Christmas gifts, along with the explanation that she’s a poor, struggling single mom, was simple misfortune.

Oh, but this is all about what a freak show they are, right?  How’s this- Jezebel loves to sing.  She is a Christian singer.  Of course.  Years ago she didn’t just sing in church. She used to sing at weddings, at other churches, and in a group; she even recorded several albums/CDs.  At one point, probably when she was starting out, she had a high school student who would play piano for her when she went off to sing.  This kid had a crush on her.  He ended up asking her to prom and she accepted.  What’s so strange about that?  Well, for starters she was married.  There was also the fact that she was in her 20s.  I’m surprised she didn’t try to get her name put in for Prom Queen.  I know when I was 22 and freshly graduated from college my biggest wish in life was to go to prom with a high school senior.  Wasn’t it yours?  The only thing that could possibly make it any dreamier would be if my husband helped me to pick out my prom dress and then sat alone at home, lovingly waiting for my return.  From my date.  To the prom.  With a teenage boy.  Who is not my husband.  Just an FYI in case anyone wants to get all technical and legal here:  I do not know if her husband did indeed help her pick out her prom dress.  I don’t even know if he was sitting at home waiting for her to return.  Hell, come to think of it I’m not even sure why he allowed it!  I’m not one for asking permission to do things, even from my husband; however, I think putting your foot down and sternly telling your wife that you do not approve of her going out on a date, even if it is to prom and is undoubtedly the teenage boy’s biggest night of his life what with scoring a date with another man’s wife and all, is acceptable in this case.  I can definitely get behind someone drawing a line in the sand for that one.  The funny thing is when this story was recounted by my MIL to my mom she was the one to say, “WTF?”  She asked my MIL point blank, “Wasn’t she embarrassed to be going to prom with a teenager at her age?”  My MIL looked at her and was suddenly all, “Yes.  Yes, she was.”  No, no she wasn’t.  She was in her glory.  I’m sure all attention was on her, just the way she likes it.

Later in life when she was the lead Praise & Worship singer she ended up beginning an affair with the pastor.  Once upon a time she swore it was only an emotional affair.  Who knows if that is true.  What I do know, according to STBX-MIL, is that they opened a freaking bank account together!  He took up a collection *at church* to help pay for her divorce.  He bought her a washing machine and dryer.  He went to a couple that had left the church when this came to light and he denied the affair, told them it was wrong to judge her, and ultimately ended up guilting them into coming back to the church.  They felt so guilty they apologized for believing the rumors and judging her, and actually gave her money for her vacation!  She, of course, took it and then spent her vacation communicating with the good pastor.  They didn’t have Facebook or Skype back then and texting wasn’t common, but they communicated through whatever means were popular at the time.   She herself preferred bringing up the rumor and then denying it.  It was a sweet little gig.  She would say:  I know you’ve probably heard I’m boning our pastor but I want you to know it’s not true!  She was also very offended at the idea that she should step down as one of the youth group leaders- something she did with her betrayed husband.

Here’s something interesting.  Jezebel believed people who gossiped about this were jealous of her because she had the courage to leave her husband and find someone who made her happy.  As she told me once, “I’d rather have 20 great years with Husband #2, than 50 so so years with Original Husband.”  Oh, did I mention he was 20 years older than her?  That’s why she was only giving their marriage 20 years.  He was the same age as her mother.  I remember hearing her friends gush about how they had never seen her happier, and at the wedding they talked about their champagne flutes that were engraved “MVBF”- My Very Best Friend.  Isn’t that so romantic?  True love, folks.  Who cares if you have to step over a few people to achieve your bliss?  She broke the heart of her husband of 13 years.  She also had two young children at the time and wasn’t afraid to throw their lives into turmoil.  He threw away a 20 or 25 year marriage and a rather large church.  Membership was somewhere between 800 and 1000 people.  It was thriving.  The church membership paid all of his bills- mortgage, cell phone, utilities, car, insurance. In addition to all that he received an actual salary.  They sent him and his wife away on vacation every year.  They were building an addition on to their church.  I’m sure Jezebel thought she was going to waltz right in and simply take over where the former wife left off.  Didn’t work out that way, though.  People are funny like that sometimes.  They don’t appreciate their pastor getting it on with the praise and worship leader while telling them trick-or-treating on Halloween and watching Disney movies with magic in them is a sin.   He ended up losing it all, which meant Jezebel didn’t walk into the life of luxury she thought this man could provide for her.  Their bills were not all paid by the church; they weren’t being sent away on vacation every year.  They didn’t receive gifts and accolades from all the adoring members of the congregation.  For years they struggled financially, even losing their house.  Finally, a few years before the end, he got a great paying job.  Unfortunately, it took him on the road a lot and that meant he could no longer iron her clothes or cut up her food for her or spend hours a day gazing at her and telling her how beautiful and wonderful she was.  He didn’t feel like running around all weekend long after being gone all week, and he was no longer entertaining her and making life fun every moment.  In short, she just wasn’t happy.

Approximately ten years after the wedding Jezebel begins an affair with another man.  Hey- at least this time her affair partner wasn’t married!  Give her a little credit.  She carries on this affair for almost a year before asking for a divorce.  I got to sit and listen to her talk for hours about how she wasn’t cheating on her husband but he was so jealous and had accused her of infidelity and would check up on her, how she didn’t think she’d ever get married again; she was so excited to be living on her own because she’d never done that before.  Turns out the night before when she and my husband went out to dinner alone (yes, I was excluded so they could have their precious brother/sister time) they met up with her new husband-to-be so she could introduce them.  Yes, she was offended because her husband was jealous and suspicious.  It’s kind of like the cashier who’s stealing from the register being butt hurt because you installed surveillance cameras above the register.  How dare you accuse me of stealing?!?!

What’s that you say, Sam?  You were left at home with the mother-in-law and kids while your husband and his sister went out to dinner together for some special “brother/sister bonding”?  Why, yes, I was!  Seems that approximately a year prior to this Jezebel was telling her brother all about her affair, swearing him to secrecy.  After all, if your brother is telling you what a disaster his marriage is the best thing you can do is ask him to keep secrets from his wife while you tell him all about your affair with this new man. The affair and new man that are both making you so happy and gosh darn it, you deserve some happiness.  They went out to dinner, supposedly just the two of them, to talk about all sorts of things that were on poor Jezebel’s mind.  Turns out she wanted his opinion on Farmer John.  Somehow this was supposed to make me feel better.  “Oh, she wasn’t excluding you; she just wanted my opinion on what type of guy he was and if he was playing her,” he explained later when this finally came to light.  What type of guy he is?  He’s the type of guy that will fuck another man’s wife!  That’s what kind of guy he is!  But, you know, since Jezebel is perfectly willing to fuck another guy while she’s married to her first affair partner, that probably isn’t something she cares about!  That probably should have been a big clue for me- when your husband says the guy that is cheating with his sister seems like a decent guy.  No, he’s really not.  If you’re willing to fuck another man’s wife you have a serious character flaw.  I also loved how he couldn’t possibly give an honest opinion on what this guy was like if *I* was around.  Seriously?  Are you going to be so distracted by my fabulous rack that you can’t possibly assess his character deficiencies?  Is my beauty so stunning that it will block any telepathic messages you might receive about this guy?  Am I simply so mesmerizing that you can’t have a simple conversation with the guy and give an honest assessment of him to your cheating sister if I’m there?  Or, do you know this is all wrong and I’m the only person in your life with a moral compass?  Oh, I think we’ve got a winner!

But the best part was hearing how she was crazy about this man.  He was everything she wanted and she loved her new life- the hunting, the farm life, the four wheeling, the two new kids.  He was her best friend and the love of her life; he was spectacular and did everything he could to make her happy.  Look- he built me a fire pit!  Look- he bought me a car!  Look at my stupid wedding in a fucking barn because I’m just a simple country girl!  Her friends once again gushed about how happy she looked and how they had never seen her happier.  Eerie, isn’t it?  Almost the exact same story word for word as when she was leaving the original husband for Husband #2.  Including the part where she told Husband #2:  I know you think I’m having an affair but I’m not!

In a sad twist of irony The Original Husband died.  Personally, from the things Jezebel said when she was lying to me about her impending divorce from Husband #2, I believe she was already involved with Husband #3 and The Original Husband’s death allowed her to get out of her marriage to Husband #2. I think she didn’t want him to know she had made a mistake and didn’t want him to witness her second divorce. That might be humiliating.  It also gave her a great excuse to distance herself from Husband #2 because he didn’t understand her grieving.  Yes, if you weren’t aware of what had happened you would think Jezebel was the grieving widow. She was at the funeral home, in the receiving line even, I believe, the entire time. Someone told me she insisted on sitting up front with the family during his funeral. And I know for a fact that she had the audacity to yell at his actual widow because Jezebel didn’t think she was showing enough emotion. How’s that for lady balls? You cheat on your husband, leave him for your pastor  (who acted as a marriage counselor for the two of you!), and when he dies you take over the role of the widow and reprimand his wife for not loving him enough! Oy. And vey!

And in case you’re wondering about the pastor he was wise to his cheating wife’s ways.  I think he could see the writing on the wall. Afterall, he had been the other man when she was cheating on her first husband. He was remarried within a month or two after their divorce.  Jezebel was pissed.  Come to think of it, her first husband also remarried before she did.  Of course, since she was marrying her married lover that divorce took a little longer so they weren’t able to get married as quickly as they had hoped.

The good news is I think this guy actually has money, or at least his family does.  She’s married for money twice before and the joke ended up being on her both times- she didn’t live the life of luxury she thought she was going to lead.  I think this time she actually got it right.  If not, she’ll be changing from Rambo Barbie into someone else in about 6-8 years.  Her marriages usually last somewhere between 10-13 years.  Good luck, Farmer John!