The Pity Party Conundrum

After listening for almost 25 years to the stories my patients tell me about sociopaths who have invaded and injured their lives, when I am asked, “How can I tell who not to trust?” the answer I give usually surprises people.

The natural expectation is that I will describe some sinister sounding detail of behavior or snippet of body language or threatening use of language that is the subtle giveaway. Instead, I take people aback by assuring them that the tip-off is none of these things, for none of these things is reliably present. Rather, the best clue, of all things, is the pity play. The most reliable sign, the most universal behavior of unscrupulous people is not directed, as one might image, at our fearfulness.

It is, perversely, an appeal to our sympathy.”

-From the Sociopath Next Door

I can’t say that’s how CF gained my trust. We didn’t start our relationship off with his stories of woe. Instead I heard how he had been the captain of the football team, captain of the baseball team, captain of the wrestling team. I heard stories from his mom and stepdad as well about how the paper had written an article about him when they played against the #1 team in the state and upset them. I learned he was class valedictorian, president of the National Honor Society, and, of course, class president. I heard how he had been recruited by the Cincinnati Reds, got an appointment to West Point, and was awarded a full ride scholarship to Boston College (or maybe Boston University- I never could remember) for pre-med. He could have been a doctor or a professional baseball player but he chose to serve his country and went to West Point.

His pity party didn’t come until he had been caught with Harley the first time. Then he was all about the tears and telling me how broken he was. I remember the text he sent to me telling me how he was sitting on the couch our son had bought and he was crying. I’m pretty sure he sent me a picture of the tears falling down his face.

I noticed in hindsight that any time the conversation became too tough he would resort to telling me he was worthless. He would insist he was a horrible husband and a terrible father and it was no wonder his own father had disowned him.

My all time favorite though was when he told me that all this conversation about Harley and his affair with her had ruined his hard on. That must have been terrible for him.

When he finally decided to discard me he was in full blown pity party mode. It was non-stop crying and talking about what a horrible person he was, how he had killed so many people and God would never forgive him. He couldn’t forgive himself. He told everyone I hated him.

I’m pretty sure when he decided to go visit his mom in May that what he was really going to do was meet up with Harley. For whatever reason he couldn’t do it. He sent me pictures of himself crying; he was supposedly having issues with being able to drive. He turned around and came back home. I went out the next day to switch cell phone companies and get new phones because I felt terrible that I hadn’t received his message and had no idea he was “struggling”. We had never had a problem with our cell phone company when we lived in Utah, but they did not have great coverage in our new area. There were areas I had absolutely no service and many times calls either wouldn’t go through or they would get dropped.

Towards the end we couldn’t go out to dinner without him breaking down crying. He refused to leave the bedroom. He loved telling people how I neglected him, despite the fact I was helping to make appointments with therapists and psychiatrists for him and attending those appointments with him.

It went hand in hand with all the other accusations that would follow: I hated him. I turned the kids against him. I made him leave the state. I wouldn’t let him take anything from the house. I threw him out. I tossed all of his things out.

A commenter over on Chump Lady pointed out that another way to protect yourself and to try to wade through the good and the bad was to listen closely when a person describes why they are no longer with their ex. Do they give you a short and to the point answer? Or do they offer up vague explanations with little to no detail? We grew apart sounds so much better than I cheated and he/she threw me out. She’s turned the kids against me sounds a lot better than I walked out on my kids and haven’t seen them in three years.

Generally, if a person has nothing to hide and is not the one at fault you’ll hear things like: He beat me. She slept with my best friend. He had a gambling problem. She drank too much. He had an untreated mental illness. She had a drug problem. He gave me an STD.

If they’re the one at fault though, it’s not uncommon to hear: We grew apart. I needed to find myself. She didn’t appreciate me. He wasn’t supportive of me. I loved him but I wasn’t in love with him. It was complicated.

Ironically, I think both CF and Harley are masters of the pity party. He undoubtedly treated her to his tales of woe regarding me. I was such a horrible housekeeper. I bought extra clothes instead of doing laundry. I treated him like a handyman and a wallet. We never had sex. I hated him.

She started off their relationship the first time around by letting him know that her marriage wasn’t all that rosy. She told him that she worked 60-80 hours a week because her husband spent and spent and he had bankrupted them.

They must be delighted at the idea of rescuing one another. I say, “Thank God!” because it keeps them away from innocent people.

The lesson today? Beware of those with sob stories. Sociopaths use pity to play upon your emotions. And pay attention when people talk. If you ask a direct question and get a vague answer that’s probably your cue to cut your losses.

My Condolences, Asshole

No contact is so hard sometimes! There are times I would really like to let loose on CF but I don’t. It’s especially hard when I have people telling me I shouldn’t let him get away with saying the crap he says. I tell myself instead that the fact I won’t engage him makes him furious. I am frequently reminded over on Chump Lady that ignoring him and going on with my life without acknowledging him is the greatest insult I could lob at him.

What has brought this on, pray tell? I’m so glad you asked! It’s April 29th and CF still has half of my spousal support to pay. As of the 20th of this month he had paid one half of the child support. That was it. Two thirds of the way through the month and he had paid less than a quarter of what he owed. Call me crazy for worrying about whether or not it would get paid but the man doesn’t have a great track record. I don’t think I’m completely out of bounds for thinking this might be the month he decides not to pay.

On top of that April has been a bitch as far as finances go. I had to pay taxes this year. Quite a bit, too. Cheerleading fees for this month were out of this world high because of U.S. Finals and Summit coaching fees, plus required practice wear for Summit, in addition to the regular fee. I then had to pay an additional fee for her actually going to Summit which included her park pass and probably the entry fee for her. Picasso somehow managed to break his bed so that had to be replaced. I was supposed to buy plane tickets to Orlando for our Summit trip; at this point we are now driving the 17 hours. Thanks, Asshole. I needed to book a hotel for the same trip. Plus, as an additional bonus I found out that the final date to buy passes for the parks and the competition was April 23rd; he didn’t pay me again until the 24th. I will now have to pay more money to get into the parks and to the competition. Again, thank you, Asshole. I have to pay my CPA. I got yet another lawyer bill for over $400, seeing as how she’s finally getting me my share of the 401k and pension. Of course, she sends me the same damn shit three or four times and I pay for each and every copy, along with postage. My daughter has prom next month and still hadn’t bought a dress. Next month I’m sure I will be bombarded with prom expenses (shoes, hair, nails, etc.) and the following month is her graduation. I still need to buy graduation announcements because she decided she wanted to do picture announcements instead of the traditional ones. Plus, I am still planning on heading to Utah for a wedding in June, which will involve me buying three plane tickets. But who the hell knows when he’ll finally get May’s support to me?

Because he doesn’t have the greatest track record, and because I don’t want him to harbor any illusions that I’ll silently suffer through another ten months of little to no support, I texted him. I was polite and professional. I told him the month was almost over and he had only paid half of his child support so far; I then asked him if he had a plan for catching up.

See? Polite and professional.

He mulled that over for the weekend and decided to grace me with a response on Monday, later in the day.

Don’t stress yourself. The money will be paid.

What a condescending twat waffle! Don’t stress myself? Gosh, I can’t imagine why I would stress. It’s not like he’s ever not paid…. Oh… Wait…. My bad.

He follows that up with:

If you absolutely must know, I am catching up from funeral expenses for my mother. Thank you for your condolences and those of the children as well.

There is so much material here! Where do I even begin?

If I absolutely must know? Motherfucker, you owe me money! Damn right I must know. Don’t neglect your legal obligation and then act like you’re doing me some kind of a favor. If you want a break for paying your mom’s funeral expenses then perhaps you should contact me and arrange something with me. Would it be so difficult to say,”Sam, I’m helping to pay my mom’s funeral expenses. I’m a little short on cash this month. I’m going to pay you X amount this month and I’ll catch up next month,”? Or even, “I’m going to be paying later this month than I normally do.”

Of course it would! Who am I to request civility from this majestic god? He is so far above me. He owes me nothing and I should be grateful for whatever scraps he throws my way.

He would never do such a thing because it’s much more fun to leave me hanging in the wind, wondering when, or if, he’s going to pay.

I think he loves the game playing. He thinks he’s got all the power when he controls the money. He was ordered to pay on the first. Ooh, let’s see if I can get a toe over the line. He asked if he could pay every other week. Let’s see if I can get the whole foot across the line. Once I okayed that request he promptly shit all over it and decided to pay the full monthly amount but to switch it up and pay four times a month instead. Then he bounced a check, promptly paid what was due and began sending me money electronically. The catch? He now has to send the spousal support in two separate payments, so his total support payment is paid in six installments. Ah, more power.

If you must absolutely know I was catching up on funeral expenses for my mother.

I don’t care if I sound like a total bitch. You pay me and then you worry about your mom’s funeral expenses. When Jezebel and Pastor Fake ask you to contribute to the cause you tell them what you can contribute after you’ve paid your support. You have a legal obligation to pay me support; you have no such legal obligation to pay for your mother’s funeral. Ask your whore to forego tanning or a trip to the nail salon or some fantastic event for her kid so that she can pay a little extra towards the household expenses.

I’m curious as well. #1- If Pastor Fake had all this money to loan you while you were milking a PTSD diagnosis, and you drained your 401k and used it to pay him back instead of helping to support your kids, where did all that money go? Why couldn’t Pastor Fake foot the bill on his own? #2- If you hid the bulk of what I was supposedly looking for then why can’t you pay for your mom’s funeral and pay your support obligation? I would think with all that money you claimed to have stashed away you wouldn’t have a problem with paying all your obligations.

Thank you for your condolences and those of the children as well.

My condolences? You didn’t even bother to inform me that she had died, you asshole! I wasn’t worthy of being notified. I was nothing. So take your request for condolences and shove them up your ass!

You made a good show of playing the victim for Rock Star with your, “I know you hate me but your grandmother loves you like crazy and she’s done nothing to you. You don’t even have to talk to me. I’ll just put the phone up to her ear and you can say something,”. Quite honestly though once time of death had been called I don’t think you ever bothered to tell her, and you certainly didn’t tell your son seeing as how you don’t have his number and can’t think of any way to get it. You also never bothered to inform them of the funeral arrangements. Was that to save yourself the hassle of trying to figure out which kids to bring- your real kids or your fake kids? It might have been awkward, huh? Playing the fucked up version of the Brady Bunch at their grandmother’s funeral. Although to be fair, you do seem to think that a funeral is the place for public unveiling of salacious relationships. It might have been the perfect time to introduce your kids to their replacements!

That’s my long roundabout way of telling you to fuck off with your victim morphing and trying to lay a guilt trip on my kids.

Another question: Why in the hell are you referring to them as “the children”? That sounds more like Harley writing your texts for you. Is she upset she doesn’t have all of your money to play with? Must be a letdown for her. She thought she was getting an additional $5000 per month and it’s more like $2000. Still, not bad for lying on your back.

Furthermore, let’s not pretend that my condolences would have been graciously accepted if they had been extended. You just wanted me to tell you how sorry I was so that you could ignore me and show me how insignificant I am in your life. Or so that you could have told me my condolences were neither needed or wanted.

You’re pissed that I ignored you and didn’t cater to your image of victim.

Do you still not understand that we are not friends? I don’t like you. I don’t like anything about you.

Your mother refused to cut Harley off after your first affair, continued to interact with her knowing the damage she had done to our marriage, and then encouraged her to call you which resulted in you two dipshits reigniting your affair and you planning to leave me. Can’t say I’m much of a fan of hers either.

I know; it’s very upsetting when someone dies and certain people refuse to put them up on a pedestal and canonize them as a saint. Whatever misdeeds occurred before death are supposed to be forgiven. How dare I not humble myself before you and your family, all of whom have treated me horribly and haven’t treated my kids much better?

Finally, let’s not pretend that if it had been my mom you would have been there front and center, offering up condolences and sending flowers. You couldn’t be bothered to accompany me to either of my grandmothers’ funerals, and that was when we were married. I don’t see you spending one single minute trying to comfort me now. Again, we’re not friends. I could easily argue that me not offering up condolences, and you keeping your mouth shut had it happened to me, was actually the kinder thing to do.

I wouldn’t want a birthday card or a Christmas newsletter or condolences from my rapist. I don’t want anything from you either. Much like how you told me you were doing me a favor by setting me free from the burden of being your wife, I did you a favor by not intruding on your grief with my unwanted and insincere condolences.

You’re welcome.

A Huge Pity Party Mystery Update

I’m going to be honest. There is no “huge pity party mystery update.” There is, however, a pity party going on (when isn’t there one going on when it comes to CF?), a mystery that has been solved, and an update. I needed to consolidate my title. Instead of A Huge Pity Party, a Mystery Solved, and an Update I mashed it together. Catchy, huh?

First, the update. Picasso finally got his Christmas card and gift card. CF came through and wasn’t a total dickhead to his son. Why it got here so much later than Rock Star’s is a mystery I won’t try to untangle.

Second, the mystery solved. Tammy Faye and Pastor Fake sent the kids a little something for Christmas as well. Tammy Faye went on to say that she hadn’t been well and they had moved into a handicap apartment. I’m not sure how that differs from their previous apartment seeing as how it was a single floor with 2 bedrooms. Maybe the bathroom is more handicap friendly. I don’t know; I don’t care. For shits and giggles I checked the return address on the card. What do you know? The address is the same one CF used as his return address.

Again I ask why? What is the big deal with using his correct address? Does he think I don’t know her address? Does he think he’s somehow keeping his location a big secret from me because I don’t deserve to know where my husband is living? Surprise! I know her address. It was listed in the actual court documents when I named the whore in our divorce proceedings.

Does he think that if he doesn’t list her address then his kids might be fooled into thinking that he’s not living with her or isn’t still with her? Um… it might help if you took down the picture of you posing with the bitch as your FB profile picture. Otherwise, this just looks desperate and sad.

Speaking of desperate and sad, here comes the third part- the huge pity party. What else is new, right? I told you the house is being sold at a foreclosure sale. My cousin is interested in buying the house for her daughter but doesn’t think she’ll have the funds. She contacted CF to ask him how much was owed on the house. He responds: My kids won’t talk to me, I’m bankrupt, and I’m on all these medications. But that’s not your problem….

Now granted, I don’t have this word for word but I’m sure it’s very close. Hell, maybe she did make an offhand comment about “hope you’re doing well” or “sorry to hear about the house.” Ultimately though she was inquiring about how much was owed. And his response is to pour out all his problems- TO MY DAMN COUSIN! Maybe he’s hoping to sleep with her as well. Maybe it’s not enough to sleep with his own cousin; maybe he’s hoping to sleep with my cousin, too. Maybe he has a cousin fetish.

He is ALWAYS THE VICTIM! His kids won’t talk to him, he’s on various medications, and he’s bankrupt. Don’t you feel sorry for him? I’m a kind hearted person. Normally, I would feel sorry for someone like this. Until I realized that he DROVE THE DAMN BUS RIGHT OFF THE CLIFF himself!

I told him back in 2013 that Rock Star would hate Harley and that she would never accept her kids. I told him this point blank. There was no beating around the bush, no euphemisms, no hesitation whatsoever. Rock Star will hate her! Plain as day. I know my daughter. I have been a little surprised about her willingness to stay in contact with him and her apparent dismay at not having a father in her life, but I think that may be simply due to the fact that he’s abandoned them which is always a tough pill to swallow whether you want that person in your life or not.

He knew that if he ever left he was risking his relationship with his kids. He said himself that he told Harley the kids were much closer to me than to him. He admitted to me when I told him Rock Star would hate Harley that he figured as much. When I told him there would be no fucked up version of the Brady Bunch between her kids and mine he agreed.

All that notwithstanding, what the hell did he think was going to happen when he moved them across the country, torpedoed their lives for this new job of his, and then turned around and upended their lives again a year later? Did he think they were going to thank him? What did he think was going to happen when he left every weekend to go be with Harley and her kids? When he could socialize with them and play Daddy of the Year to them but couldn’t be bothered with his own children? How did he think they were going to react when he moved out of the house and out of the state without bothering to even mention it to them, much less say goodbye?

As a small aside Rock Star informed me that he sent her a FB friend request. She ignored it. She said she wasn’t going to decline it because then he would have something to play victim about.

The last time Picasso mentioned his dad he called him a cock. That boy is stone cold. I would not ever want to get on his bad side.

He’s heavily medicated? Fucking your cousin will do that to a person. Maybe stop doing that and you’ll feel better. I don’t know what to tell you, dude. You’ve made some bad life choices. Sounds like those choices are coming home to roost and you’re dealing with the consequences. Sucks to be you.

You know what else? I don’t really care, not even little bit, about your mental health now. I don’t give a shit if you’re trying to get better now. Now for another woman and her kids. I needed you to get better before. I needed you to get better so that you could be a husband and a partner to me. I don’t care how you’re doing for her. I hope you’re doing awful, quite honestly. I needed you to get better so that you could be a decent father to our own children. I don’t care one little bit how you treat hers. I cared about you getting better when it would affect our family for the better. Now that you’ve chosen her and her brood I don’t care if you ever get better. I hope you don’t. Let her deal with the fallout for the next twenty years.

He’s bankrupt? Wow- who would have ever seen that one coming? Again, you’ve made some bad life choices. You walked away from a house you’d owned less than a year. You watched them put an insanely expensive inground pool in your backyard, knowing you were going to leave your family for a whore and her kids. You furnished almost your entire house with new furniture. Maybe it was the fact that you had a brand new pussy wagging in your face that kept you distracted but all of those things- the new house, new pool, new car, new furniture- were some of the very first things I thought about when I found out you were cheating again. How the hell would we be able to sell the house and not lose our asses? That was a huge concern of mine. Again, I’m sure you were much more focused on fucking your cousin than on worrying about what was going to happen when we tried to sell a house that we had been paying on less than a year.

You had a wife of twenty years who had followed you around the country and been a stay at home mom since your daughter was an infant. How did you not seeing spousal support coming? Again, that’s another one of those things I tackled straight out of the gate. What can I expect to receive in child and spousal support and how do they calculate that shit? I know; I know. When a whore is sucking your dick you don’t give much thought to those sorts of things. It will all work itself out and besides, hey, you’re getting a blow job!

You had a pool loan and credit card debt. Oh, that was another thing I checked on- how spousal debt was split up. Guess you were busy getting busy with the whore and didn’t inquire. You gave your wife less than $5000/month and expected her to pay all of the bills out of that, including the $2100/month mortgage, the car payment for her new car, the car insurance for both of you, both credit cards, all the utilities, and a $341/month pool loan. There wasn’t enough left over after paying all the bills for her to buy groceries or dog food but instead of giving her more you just told her to use the money she had put aside. You know, the money that was earmarked to pay off the pool. Instead of splitting the household expenses which would have meant your wife didn’t have to use the pool money, which in turn meant that you wouldn’t have had to pay an additional $15,000 out of your bonus check to pay off the remainder of the pool, you chose to put your remaining paycheck, almost $5000/month, into a separate checking account that you shared with the whore. I did warn you that it would be considered a marital debt and that it would have to be paid off. You did screw me, however, seeing as how you got to pay the remainder from your bonus check and then split the proceeds with me, instead of having to split the bonus check and then you paying the rest of it off. Of course, if you did have an additional $7500 the whore would have just blown through it. But, I would possibly be in a better situation with an extra $7500. Oh what am I saying? You don’t give a shit about me and your kids and how we’re struggling.

You took a $5000 loan out against your 401k, and even knowing that it needed to be paid off before you left the company or penalties would apply, you quit your job of 15 years. You cashed in all of the remaining stock you had been given and in quitting 6 months later, you walked away from tens of thousands in unvested stocks.

In four months she (or the two of you) went through approximately $30,000. You bought such necessary items as a $4200 engagement ring, a $300 formal dress for a child that wasn’t yours, over $400 in sports equipment (just in September), almost $200 at Vera Bradley, hundreds in eye care, almost $1000 paying the whore’s utilities, and over $800 for Christmas gifts for children that weren’t yours. Between January and June you took in approximately $27,000 after paying your court ordered support and according to your bank records there was only $3000 in your account at the end of June. Of course, Harley was contributing right around $5000/month, too so I’m not sure we should even say YOU had $3000 left over. Between you two idiots you had $3000 left over and that’s only because you didn’t pay a dime in support that month. You should have had nothing left once support was paid but I guess Harley wouldn’t have been able to spend to her little heart’s desire had you paid half of your support that month. It was much more important that she get whatever she and her kids wanted, rather than you provide anything your kids might need.

I have to give a shout out to Totally Caroline because she definitely saw this one coming. I really thought he’d keep it together at least until Harley dumped him. He likes having money. He likes being a big shot. More importantly, she likes having money and what he was handing over to her was easily doubling her income. Even once he began paying court ordered support he was still able to offer her around $3000/month.

I have to just shake my head in amazement. He wants everyone to see him as a victim and yet he is completely unable to comprehend that he went down this path willingly. Did it play out the way he expected? Oh, probably not. I’m sure he thought he was going to pay me a lousy $5000/month and get to walk away from all of our joint responsibilities. I would pay all the bills, take care of the kids, the pets, and go get a full time job working for peanuts to pay for groceries, gas, household staples, and any other extras. Meanwhile, he would have $5000 to blow on absolutely nothing. It would all be fun money. If you recall he had no bills. His car was paid for, his cell phone bill was paid for by his company (until he quit), and I paid the insurance on his car. Ooh, lightbulb moment! That is probably what he thought would happen and why he sees himself as my hapless victim. It doesn’t matter that he did this to himself. It doesn’t matter that he miscalculated screwing me in that particular way. No, the only thing that matters to him is that things didn’t work out the way he thought they were going to so now he’s a victim.

Take heart, Cousinfucker. Every time you begin to whine about all the medication, the financial disaster, and the fact that your kids will have nothing to do with you you can take comfort in the fact that Harley is right there by your side, probably down on her knees. How can you possibly be unhappy when you have your soul mate, the person who makes you happy, by your side forever? Victim? Oh gosh no! I’d say you’re the victor!

My Own Facebook Post

OK, I’m not really going to make my own Facebook post to combat Asshat’s but I do want to reflect upon what I’m grateful for.

Unlike Cousinfucker I don’t have to reach out to my kids through Facebook (even though my daughter has him blocked and our son doesn’t even have a FB page). I see them every day. I tell them every day I love them and to have a good day. Unlike him I know that they hear me when I say those things because I get an, “I love you,” right back.

On Wednesday before Turkey Day my daughter took me out for breakfast. Her treat. And she was the one who asked me if I wanted to go. We ended up having the best time. She just talked and talked and told funny stories. She had me laughing constantly. I’ve missed that. I feel like I’m missing out on so much of their lives, especially with this crazy schedule I’ve had lately. Going in at 1:30 in the morning I’m going to bed around 6. I get 2 or 3 hours tops with my kids. But on Wednesday Rock Star and I ate breakfast, went shopping, and talked and laughed.

I took Picasso to get his hunter’s license on Thanksgiving so his uncle could take him out. We had a good conversation, too. He got a little frightened with my driving for some reason, apparently thinking I can’t judge distances too well, but I assured him that if anyone died in the crash it would be me. He told me he didn’t want me to die and when I told him he didn’t need to worry about having to go live with his dad he told me he didn’t want me to die because he loved me. Contrast that with his declaration that his dad is dead to him. While he thinks he’s too big to sit on my lap anymore (okay, he is about 5’10 and weighs a good 220 but he’s still my baby and my lap is always open) he is always leaning in to kiss me and tell me he loves me.

In other news as expected Cousinfucker is getting plenty of sympathy on his Thanksgiving Facebook post. Someone (I believe I refer to her as Daniella later on) that he used to work with told him not to give up on them, just to keep letting them know how much he loves them. Eventually they will come around and be able to make their own decisions.

That’s adorable. I’d love to throw caution to the wind and reply on his page: Your sympathy is admirable but save it for someone who really needs it, like his kids. This is the first time he’s mentioned his kids since June. He walked out the door in February and hasn’t set eyes on them since. To be clear, it isn’t because they’ve told him not to come see them. He hasn’t even bothered to ask. This FB post is as far as he’s going to go to reach out to his kids. He doesn’t call; he doesn’t text. Aside from their birthday cards they haven’t heard a peep out of him since June. He lived with his kids for six months after they got the news we were divorcing because of his affair and he didn’t bother with talking to them, reaching out to them, or offering to take them anyplace during that time either. He hasn’t sent child support since May. He forced them to move out of their home and transfer schools. He couldn’t pay for his own daughter’s $80 Homecoming dress but he could spend over $300 on a dress for his whore’s daughter. He didn’t have the money to pay his half of the household bills (or to pay for the damn dress for his daughter) but he had over $4k to spend on an engagement ring for his mistress. In that same month she was able to spend over $400 on sports equipment for her kids, another $167 at Vera Bradley, over $400 on utility bills, and hundreds on eye care- all out of the joint checking account they opened while he was still married (and before his wife even know he was having yet another affair with her) and taking from his own children to support her and hers. He couldn’t be bothered to be engaged with his own kids while he plays Daddy of the Year to four kids who already have a father. His kids have nothing to do with him not because of their evil mother’s influence but because he’s a selfish, entitled asshole who chose a whore and her four kids over his own. He’s never offered a heartfelt apology to either of them. He never bothered to reach out and check on them after finding out we were forced to move out of the state. Never asked a single question about how they were adjusting, how they liked their new schools, how it was living where they were living. Certainly never apologized for forcing his daughter to transfer schools right before her junior year.

Here- let me sum this up in a much more concise statement:  Outside of Facebook he never gives them another thought. Facebook is nice and public so everyone can see his grand declarations. It’s no fun texting or calling your kids; no one can see that! He posted that drivel so everyone could see his very public gesture and in turn would feel sorry for him. You all fell for it, suckers!

You know what, readers? In the end, no matter what kind of bullshit he pulls, no matter how bad off financially I am, I have won. My kids love me; they value me. He has no idea what kinds of things they like, who their friends are, what they want to do with their lives. He doesn’t get to talk to them, joke around with them, eat dinner with them, drive them around. He has no idea who they are as people. He will never watch our kids graduate from high school. Neither of them want him there. Hell, he doesn’t even know which schools they attend. He will never watch Picasso at an orchestra concert or watch Rock Star cheering. If our son ends up playing football he won’t be around to give him tips, coach him from home, or watch him play. He won’t know if or where our kids end up going to college or what they choose to do for a career. He will not be the one to walk our daughter down the aisle should she ever marry; he won’t even be invited to the wedding. He won’t be around for our son’s wedding either should he ever marry. If grandchildren are a part of the future he will never know them. He won’t even know they exist.

The sad part is I’m sure he would say the whore is worth it. She has to be now that he’s lost everything. I don’t really care whether he thinks she’s worth it or not. I know I’ve got the better deal. For that I’m grateful.

Spitting Nails, Part 2

This could also be entitled, “The Perils of Facebook” or “Why No Contact Is Awesome”. Honestly, I do so much better when I know absolutely nothing about what he’s doing. To be clear, I don’t seek this out. I’d also like to point out that seeing as how he’s claiming PTSD and all sorts of mental problems it’s not in my best interest to hide my head in the sand. You would be amazed at how many people end up getting tripped up by Facebook. Nonetheless, he infuriates me with his bullshit and his total oblivion to all the destruction he has caused.

I told you all that Cousinfucker has his new profile picture up. It’s a picture of him and Harley the Whore. Apparently, he has chosen to make his page public so my mom (and my lawyer) can read his page. I’ve been told he’s getting many comments about how happy he looks, how they’re so happy for him, how happiness looks good on him. Puke. Nothing like being told I made him miserable. Gosh, looks like not only is Harley a whore she’s also a happiness fairy! Good to know, Cousinfucker; good to know.

Then I’m told the whole reason Cousinfucker was posing with the whore’s youngest son was because he went to school with him for show and tell! Yes, instead of lamenting the fact that his own children didn’t write him gushing letters of appreciation for his service he chose to go to show and tell on Veteran’s Day with a fucking kid that doesn’t belong to him. That child HAS a father. I couldn’t get him to regularly attend parent-teacher conferences with me. His own son couldn’t get him to drop him off at school because the carpool lane freaked him out. He threw a royal fit when he had to go grab a dollar gift for his daughter’s school Christmas party. But he can certainly rise to the occasion for the whore’s kid. Nice.

Finally, a friend of his sent me a message today. This is the guy that I talk to as well and have for several years. He did say he figured Cousinfucker was having a public pity party on Facebook but he felt duty-bound to pass along the message. He told me he wasn’t going to let CF know he had passed it along but he felt I should have it.

Keep in mind this message is written with good ol’ dad posing with the whore that he left his family for.

I want to wish my children a Happy Thanksgiving. It is doubtful that they will see this, but I wanted to express it anyway. I love you both immensely and miss you terribly. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and always know that I love you like crazy. Nothing in the world can change the love I have for you.

What a load of shit! It starts out okay, I suppose.

I want to wish my children a Happy Thanksgiving.

It quickly veers into pity with that second sentence.

It is doubtful that they will see this, but I wanted to express it anyway.

Hey, why do you think they won’t see your wonderful sentiments, Cousinfucker? Could it be because you walked out of their lives without a backward glance? Could it be because you chose a whore and her four kids over your own flesh and blood? Could it possibly be because instead of wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving by sending them a card or calling them or even sending a text, you chose to post it publicly on Facebook?

That’s such a curious way to wish your children a Happy Thanksgiving and let them know how much you love and miss them. I don’t suppose you did that to garner pity, did you? Did you take that page right out of your mother’s book? She can’t interact with her grandkids unless it’s on a public stage. I see you’ve picked up that trick as well. Don’t bother to call. Don’t bother to text. Just post a bunch of self-pitying bullshit on Facebook so everyone can see how much you love and miss them. Bonus points- you may be able to convince people the entire reason you don’t have contact with them isn’t because of anything you may or may not have done but because I’m such a horrible bitch.

I love you both immensely and miss you terribly. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and always know that I love you like crazy. Nothing in the world can change the love I have for you.

I appreciate the sentiment but I think we both know that a father who truly loves and misses his kids wouldn’t even dream of doing the things to them that you have. He wouldn’t drag them away from their friends and everything they love, dash their dreams, make them start all over, and then once they begin to rebuild their lives start cheating on their mother, forcing a divorce and yet more upheaval. He wouldn’t move out of the goddamn state he drug them to less than two years later, and he sure as shit wouldn’t move out without saying a fucking word to either of them. He wouldn’t force them to move out of their home, out of the state. He wouldn’t cost his daughter her driver’s license. He wouldn’t take away her great new life so he could get his dick sucked. He wouldn’t refuse to support them or be fine with them living in poverty. He wouldn’t play these stupid games with their mother because he would do the right thing. He wouldn’t let months go by without contacting them. You know what else he wouldn’t do? He wouldn’t post his fucking message on Facebook. He’d pick up a goddamn phone and actually talk to his fucking kids. If they don’t pick up leave a message! It’s a thing.

All that crap you just wrote? It’s all image management and self-pity. I’m just a poor man who loves his children unconditionally no matter how much they might reject me. Please Facebook friends, tell me how wonderful and noble I am. Tell me how my children will see the light one day. Tell me my mean, nasty wife won’t get away with turning them against me. Tell me what a wonderful father I am and how my kids are so lucky to have me.

So… I was just going to ignore this friend. Let’s call him Bob. I was just going to ignore Bob and all this bullshit but I was already in a shitty mood because of the court hearing and Cousinfucker’s request to modify his support. Quite honestly I’m tired of taking it on the chin and I’m tired of everyone acting like what he’s done is no big deal. I’m tired of his pity plays. Instead of ignoring it this time I replied.

I’m sure the four children he lives with appreciate the sentiment. I hope they see it and thank him appropriately although I’m not sure why he needs to post it on Facebook seeing as how he lives with them and sees them everyday.

Snarky? Yes. Did it feel good? You betcha!

Plenty of Bullshit From CF

This is the kind of mind fucking I got from him. All of the time! I still can’t reconcile how I was his rock, his savior, a saint less than a year before he began his affair with the whore again. Instead of getting mad (or getting a headache!) let’s make fun of his text messages instead!

July 2014

I am a saint and his rock. I am his everything, according to his texts. I try to believe him. He’s willing to do anything for me. So he says. I hope I’m not being played. (I was.)

I will do anything for you. Anything. There is nothing I won’t do for you. Please know that. You are my life. Above anything. I love you to my core. And I will do anything to make you happy. There is nothing I can even imagine that I would not do for you. Nothing. My entire life is committed to your happiness. Just ask. Anything. And I will do it.

Anything, huh? Will you stop fucking your cousin? Will you start paying your court ordered child support? Will you step up and be an actual father to your kids?

Hmmm… maybe I should send this to him and give him a list of my requests! Hey, Cousinfucker, remember back before you conned me into moving across the country and you told me you loved me to the core and you promised to do anything to make me happy? You told me you couldn’t imagine that there was anything you wouldn’t do for me. You’re slacking off here, buddy! I need spousal support, child support, a divorce. Hey, if you could have refrained from having an affair with your cousin that would have been great, but that’s already a done deal. Can’t change the past.

I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t want to burden the kids. If you think it is too much, then I won’t take them to see her. I don’t want to hurt them. I realize you don’t want to talk about this. And I thank you for doing it. I am so sorry for all the wrongs I have done. And I can’t even begin to express much I love you. You have taken all of me. The predominantly bad. And the very little good.

Yeah, I did take the predominantly bad, didn’t I? You don’t understand what you add to my life? Stand in line, Cousinfucker, because I have no idea what you added to my life either. Were you a partner? Nope. Were you a decent father? Nope. Good in bed? Negative. A social butterfly that helped us gain new friends? Nyet. Someone who cheered me on and supported me? Oh good God no! Make good money? Well, only until you started fucking your cousin. Then you decided to quit two jobs in four months and abandon all of your responsibilities.

You know what this really is? It’s victim morphing. I’m so worthless. Why do you love me? I have so little to offer you. And like clockwork I come along and tell him how wonderful he is and assure him that he isn’t worthless and that he adds so much to our lives.

I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Thank you for being a saint and my rock.

Yeah, I was a saint and your rock. Blah, blah, blah. A damn lot of good that did me!

It’s Veterans Day

November 11th. Veterans Day. I have to keep reminding self that just because Cousinfucker is a lying, cheating sonofabitch, that doesn’t mean every veteran is. I have to keep that in mind so that I don’t paint every service member with the same broad brush. I have plenty of people in my family who have served and they are not all assholes.

Regardless, this day has always been filled with lots of drama. I’ll never forget the year that he came home, pouting, because I had not wished him a Happy Veterans Day. From that point forward I always made it a priority to recognize this day and reminded the kids to thank him as well. So hey, if you or one of your minions is reading this: Happy Veterans Day to all those who have honorably served! To those veterans who are cheating on their spouses, abandoning their kids, refusing to pay child and/or spousal support, abusing their spouses, or plotting their murders, you are a disgrace to the military. I don’t wish you a happy anything. I fart in your general direction. It is truly sad that so many good men and women have given their lives while you continue to walk this earth. May God have mercy on your souls because I sure as hell won’t. You make me sick.

1dza9o

In other news, I took the advice of those of you who said to screenshot his photos on Facebook. Actually, I made my mother do it because I can’t stand to look at him. I found out some interesting stuff, though.

  1. He lists his status as “in a relationship” with Harley the Whore.
  2. He’s got pictures of him posing with her youngest son. Nice!
  3. Harley the Whore has changed her name! And she’s going by her maiden name now so I guess her divorce is final.
  4. There are 2 dogs in the picture now. Good to know he can’t afford to pay child support, any of the marital debt, or to keep up the lawn but he can buy two fucking dogs. Not to mention the dogs he simply abandoned.
  5. This was the most interesting. He put up some meme about 100 days. We were trying to figure out what on earth that might mean. 100 days since he had paid child support? 100 days since he had abandoned his kids? 100 days since he began living with a whore? Hmmmm…. so my mom read the comments and we are both thinking that it is 100 days since he has stopped drinking. Interesting. Especially because the point at which he quit drinking (if that’s what it is) corresponds to roughly the time he resigned from his job.

 

121ojp

That’s all I’ve got for you today. Keep your chins up and “soldier” on!

Like a Drone On a Member Of the Taliban & Get Out Of Here Guilt

It’s Thursday once again! You know what that means! Turns out it’s your lucky day because I’m giving you two for the price of one.

Like a Drone On a Member of the Taliban

Blast From the Past 45

June 2014

I just realized today is the one year anniversary of him returning from his home state to find pictures of his skanky whore all over the house. And tomorrow is the one year anniversary of him telling his little whore all about it. Tomorrow also marks the one year anniversary of manipulative, deceitful little Harley deciding to take matters into her own hands and trying to speed up our impending divorce by “innocently” blocking me. How’d that work out for ya, Whore? He didn’t leave me for you and now I’m on your ass like a drone on a member of the Taliban. I will NEVER get sick of this.

Present Day Sam Says: It’s amazing how much I don’t care about that whore now that it’s all over. Oh, I hate her. I would celebrate if bad things happened to her. I know that’s not very Christian of me but I’m being honest. I don’t want anyone thinking that I think she’s just swell. I don’t. I think she’s a manipulative, gold digging whore. But I don’t really give much thought to her life with CF anymore.  I hope she’s having a blast taking care of him.

Get Out Of Here, Guilt!

Blast From the Past 46

June 2014

His mom called him today and he was giving me an update. He then stopped and said, “I won’t bother you anymore.” Two or three years ago that might have worked. Today I’m not going to be guilted into making nice with all the whore lovers. I’m sorry but when you decide you want to continue a relationship with my husband’s whore then do not be shocked when his wife doesn’t care to have a relationship with you anymore. They chose her. They can live with those consequences.

Don’t Worry, Kids, This Is All Your Fault

I believe I have told the story of how Cousinfucker went into Picasso’s room after returning from his weekend fuck fest.  I had had the “privilege” of telling our kids their dad was in his home state with his girlfriend and we were going to be getting a divorce.  Oh, fun times!  Fun times!

Reminiscing aside he goes into this 13 year old boy’s room, crying, and tells him how he’s not going to deny he has a girlfriend but ever since having kids we have drifted apart.  You know how they say kids blame themselves and you should reassure them that it’s not their fault? Romeo really hit it out of the park.  He took the “It’s Completely Your Fault” approach.  Yes, had we not had those pesky kids that demanded time and attention I could have sat in the bedroom with him and watched endless amounts of A&E crap and SportsCenter scores.  I could have given him my full and undivided attention, all day every day.  He also chose to utilize the “Your Mom Wasn’t Giving Me Enough Attention” and “We Drifted Apart and Our Marriage Wasn’t Ever Very Happy” excuses to justify having an affair to his teenage son and to try to turn him against me.  Not gonna happen, Cousinfucker.  #sorrynotsorry

So, I got to thinking about this whole “drifting apart” thing.  I’ve concluded it’s a bunch of bullshit concocted by cheaters who want to excuse their boorish behavior  I don’t know if they really believe the sound of their own lies or if they’re just hoping it sounds good enough to convince the masses.  Regardless, I’m done with that excuse.

I’m also done with this idea that the affair is a symptom of what’s wrong in the marriage and not the actual disease.  If that were true why aren’t both of the people cheating?  Do the people who create this bullshit think it through?  Do they really think one person in the marriage is miserable and ripe for an affair while the other person is so deliriously happy they are farting rainbows and glitter?

Don’t even get me started on “You need to own your part and how you contributed to the problems in your marriage.”  I can sum that up quite nicely.  My contribution was forgiving the sonofabitch.  My contribution to the problems in the marriage was kissing his ass and putting up with his bullshit.  I led him to believe his egregious behavior was acceptable when it wasn’t.  That was my contribution.

I have concluded that pretty much everything I could take responsibility for leads back to him.  Not enough sex?  He kicked me out of our bed because he said he couldn’t deal with my snoring.  That wasn’t my doing.  He chose that.  Being in close proximity leads to more sex.  Chances were good that once I was banished to the couch I wasn’t going to get the kids ready for bed and then rush into the master bedroom to blow his mind and then return to the living room to watch NCIS.  Not my fault he didn’t like the consequences of sleeping apart.

We could also add the fact he’s the one that insisted our daughter sleep with us.  I tried to keep her out of the bed.  He kept sneaking her back in.  “She belongs here!” he would whine.  OK, we’ll let her sleep with us.  I voluntarily moved out of the bed when I was 7-8 months pregnant because I didn’t have enough room with him and a 2 year old in a queen size bed.  Once Picasso was born CF couldn’t sleep with him in his little bassinet in our room so once again I was banished.  Rock Star slept in the bed with CF and I slept on the daybed with the bassinet next to me so as not to disturb His Royal Highness.  A few months after Picasso was born we discovered that Rock Star was sleeping through the night and not going to the bathroom.  We bought her bunk beds and she was eager to sleep in them.  She slept in them for two days and then on the third day, Friday, her dad asked her if she wanted to sleep with him.  “I can’t go cold turkey.  She’s slept with us for two years!”  Sunday comes and she starts to get in bed with him and all of a sudden it’s, “Oh no!  I can’t have her sleeping with me tonight.  I need to get up in the morning for work and she’ll keep me up.”  Do you think she returned to her brand new bunk beds?  No, no she didn’t.  I ended up sleeping with both kids for the next 4 years.  Eventually he gave up the queen size bed and the master bedroom so the kids and I could sleep there and he moved to the downstairs bedroom.  But go ahead and blame me for that whole “drifting apart” and “never having sex” thing.  It was completely my fault.  I should have laid down with the kids, got them to sleep and then rushed right in to have sex with him and then after it was all over I could leave him to sleep all by himself where no one would disturb him and I would return to our children who had become accustomed to sleeping with their mom.  Like I said, completely my fault.

We drifted apart?  Hmmmm…. could that have had anything to do with the fact that he closed himself off in the basement, watching TV and eating dinner while I was expected to corral the young children so he could do all of that in peace?  Could it have anything to do with the fact that every time I would ask him if he wanted to join us he would decline?  I’m having a hard time taking complete responsibility for us “drifting apart” when every time I tried to pull him into our orbit he steadfastly refused.  He didn’t go with us when I visited family.  Once we moved to our former state he refused to associate with anybody whom he didn’t know.  Eventually it got to the point where he wouldn’t even socialize with co-workers.  I attended family funerals alone.  He resisted taking vacation time, saying it was twice as much work once he got back.  For some bizarre reason once we moved to our former state he decided to pretty much live in our/his bedroom.  There were a few times he ventured out, like when he got into playing a few games on the Wii, but if we didn’t immediately fawn all over him and the efforts he was making he would pout and once again retreat to the bedroom.  He pulled the same crap once we moved here.  He wouldn’t even sit on the enclosed porch or the couch in the living room.  It was too stressful for him.  He only felt “safe” in the bedroom.  Again, totally my fault if you asked him.  I didn’t love him enough.  My love was not strong enough to coax him out of the bedroom and ease him into a porch swing.

Did I spend too much time with the kids?  That’s a common complaint.  Here’s the thing about that.  One of us had to be the parent.  He pretty much abdicated that role.  If I acted the way he had acted we probably would have had our kids taken away from us due to neglect.  Instead of being a team he chose to let me do all of the work.  I did it without complaint most of the time because I figured that was simply the way we had decided to divide the household duties.  He worked and made the money and I took care of the house and the kids so that he could concentrate on his career.  Funny though how so many people manage to have a career and be a parent.  It’s truly amazing.  I don’t know how they do it. #sarcasm

He loved to use the ol’ “We’re nothing more than roommates,”  excuse.  That’s really weird because I distinctly remember telling him that since our kids were older and could be left alone for a few hours by themselves we should start having a date night.  His response?  Why would you want to do that with me?  I don’t know, dude; I really don’t know.  I guess that was my cue to beg him.  Oh please please let’s spend some time together.  Pretty please!

Any time I suggested counseling he was resistant to the idea and as I’ve recounted many times when he did go with me after being busted he didn’t really participate.  He sat there, let me do all the talking and then got pissed.

He saw himself as nothing more than a wallet and a handyman and yet he never did anything about it.  He didn’t spend a lot of time with our kids.  He bought them stuff instead.  I remember finally putting my foot down and telling the kids they would now get an allowance and once that was used up there would be no more toys because every time we went out he would let them pick something out.

Remember, too, that after my first D-Day, when I was “taking responsibility” for getting to this point he pointed out things he wished I would change and I did it.  He told me I had stopped wearing make-up and that made him feel like I didn’t care about him anymore. So I made sure to always wear make-up, even if it meant applying it (or farding) right before he got home. I wore my hair up all the time- either in a ponytail, or a ponytail twisted up into a bun.  Again, I’m sure that was proof I no longer loved him or gave a damn. But damn if I didn’t start wearing my hair down more often so he could view my long locks cascading over my shoulders.  He wished I would text him more, like the whore did because it made him feel so in touch with her and he wanted that with me now. So I did even though I hated it.  When I didn’t take the time to get manicures and pedicures it made him feel like I didn’t care- again!  This one was a Catch-22, though, because even though I did it I’m sure he now uses that to demonstrate how I wontonly spent all his money!  I want you to sleep in our bed again (and if you fall asleep on the couch that’s proof you don’t love me!).  Watch me mow the lawn!  Bring me a cool drink!  Just touch me and look at me with love in your eyes all the time!  I couldn’t have jumped any higher if I had a set of rocket boots!

The really sad part is he could be an extremely funny guy.  The kids genuinely liked spending time with him.  Some of my favorite memories are when we would all go out on Christmas Eve.  We’d go bowling, sometimes catch a movie, and eat dinner out.  Rock Star would comment how her friends all loved her dad and thought he was hilarious.  When he would finally agree to go with us he was usually a lot of fun to be around.  There were times I honestly believed he was more patient with the kids than I was.  Of course, when you’re only dealing with them a few days out of the year you always seem more patient than the parent who is dealing with them day in and day out.  He simply never bothered to show that side of himself very often.

Did we drift apart like he claims?  Possibly, although I didn’t do it on my own; he contributed to that as well.  Did we have an unhappy marriage for a long time?  I will dispute that; we struggled for a while but we were happy until the last 6 months or so.  Was he nothing more than a wallet and a paycheck?  I certainly never looked at him that way; he put himself into that role and then complained.

Don’t worry about looking inward, Zack.  I’m sure this new relationship with Harley is perfection.  What could go wrong when you have two lying cheaters get together?  No, don’t look at your own issues and your own contributions to the decline of our marriage; you go ahead and tell our kids that they are to blame.  Hell, Harley has four of them so when that relationship falls apart maybe you can blame her kids next.

Cry Me A River

I swear he is the saddest of the sad sausages.  I’m dealing with a child who will soon have her actual driver’s license, one that will entitle her to get in a car and drive with no adult present.  She has been told for years that when she’s ready to drive she will get her dad’s car and he would buy a beater truck, which for some reason, was his dream.  Then reality punched us in the face.  Her dad fucked his cousin, we’re living on 66% of what we used to have while I pay 100% of the bills, and he refuses to contribute a single penny above what he is court ordered to pay.  He’s a real Prince Charming and an excellent father according to the whore.  As I’ve said before I believe the person to bestow “excellent father” credentials on him should be his actual children, but I digress.

She tried to call him the other day but coward that he is he wouldn’t pick up the phone.  She was left texting him instead.  She merely asked him if he could get a loan and she would make the payments.  He once again begins giving her his sob story:  I just sent your mother $$$$$! (Well, yes, you did but you also sent me my share of the bonus check which means you, too, have that much money!  You keep leaving that part out!)  Your mom takes 75% of my paycheck.  Everything I make I send to you guys.  I don’t even know if I would qualify for a loan because I have no money.

She looks at me while she’s texting him and asks, “Does he honestly expect me to feel sorry for him?  He put himself in this situation!”  I know, Rock Star; I know.  It is sad when your teenage daughter has more common sense than the man you called a husband for twenty plus years.

I wish I could say that was the best part of the conversation but it got so much better.  He sarcastically thanks her for remembering him on Memorial Day.  “Memorial Day is for remembering the dead, not thanking the living,” she retorts.  She should know that Memorial Day is the worst for him, he tells her.  Boo fucking hoo!  I’ve got an idea.  Why don’t you turn to your conniving, gold digging whore for comfort on that day?  Rock Star did say she was tempted to tell him she figured he was busy with Harley and didn’t want to disturb him.  Instead she told him the worst day of her life was finding out that her dad was cheating on her mom.  Put down any drinks you may be consuming.  Make sure there is no food in your mouth; I wouldn’t want you to choke.  His reply to this?  I’m sorry about that but your mother never loved me.

I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.  Rock Star was astounded.  How can he say that?  “You did so much for him!  You wouldn’t have done all of that if you didn’t love him, would you?” she asks me.

I shake my head thinking about his distorted thinking.  Your mother never loved me therefore I was entitled to cheat on her.  Well, sure!  Go fuck your cousin then!  Who wants to do something so practical as file for divorce or attempt actual marital counseling where you don’t sit there like a bump on a log and let your wife do all the talking and then complain because you don’t like the truth?  This divorce shit is hard and it’s no fun doing it alone!  No, instead let’s find someone to hold your hand, wipe your brow and suck your dick while you fuck me over.  That’s the only sensible thing to do.  Line up your next sucker before you get rid of the previous sucker.

I wish I could say that was the end of the conversation but alas, it was not.  He informs her that he was in a car accident that day and he almost died!  Does anyone else notice the death motif that seems to permeate his life?  Every crisis brings him thisclose to death!  He is always almost dying.  I can’t decide if he’s extremely unfortunate or extremely lucky.  Hmmm…. so close to the jaws of death and yet he always manages to save himself at the last minute.  Tough call.  You would think that with all these close brushes with death he might decide to be a better person…

He ended the conversation by telling her he sometimes wanted to just run his car off the road and die.  She told me it was really hard for her not to tell him to go ahead.  Instead she said nothing and I’m sure he’s crying about that now.  No one cares if I die!!!

Along with being the saddest of sausages he’s also one of the most stupid sausages.  I found out this week that he’s using Harley’s address as his home address for taxes.  Blech!  So either he’s lying and he’s going to potentially have to pay state income tax in two different states (dumbass!) or he’s commuting some 90 minutes each way at the very least every day.  I also discovered that his new job came with a promotion.  Yet his net income is actually less than what he was making.  What kind of an idiot moves out of state, away from his kids, and takes a promotion that doesn’t even pay him 5% more than his current salary?  Idiot!

I have heard it said that it is almost impossible to get to Meh when you’re still going through the divorce.  I might have to disagree with that.  I no longer have any fucks to give.  At this point he is more comedy fodder than anything.  I’m not sure how that will ever stop being the case when you’re dealing with someone who is so completely dealing outside of the realm of reality.  Nonetheless, it sure feels like Tuesday most days.