My sister just told me she has diagnosed herself (she's an internet doctor) with a condition called Cyclothymia, which is kind of Bi-Polar Lite. If you look at the list of symptoms, pretty much everyone on the planet has them from time to time.

Looking at some of them a little more closely makes it seem like this disease was thought up by a remorseful slut who was trying to justify their actions: low self-esteem, self-destructive thinking, risky sexual behavior, shopping sprees, tendency to be easily distracted, inflated self-esteem, being inconsiderate of others, feelings of regret.

I'm wondering what kind of sucker pays 7500 bucks for a retard. Was the extra chromosome from his family or yours Barry?

It's a wonder I didn't smother her with a pillow. In retrospect, I think I'd have never been convicted.

Yeah, lately I been seeing a lot of stories about Hispanics doing the Family-cide, or what ever the hell you wanna call it. Some stuff white people husband/wife murder suicide.

Legit Downs. I was only like 5ish or 6ish when the tale began. Kid was 2 years younger than me. Hubby couldn't handle her bullshit, so he bailed. AWOL for maybe 4 or 5 years. Either he reached out or she (or more likely my parents) hunted him down. Depends on who you ask. She started letting him go to Portland to see his dad. The times spent with dad grew longer and longer. One day, with much bawling and gnashing of teeth, she let him have full custody. As a maybe 13/ 14 year old who was kind of aware, it seemed weird to me, considering how much hatred there was from her/ my family to the ex husband and his new wife, who my prim and and proper mother always referred to as "the slut".

When I lost my dad a couple of years ago we found the letter the Cunt sent to her ex, who kindly sent a copy to my dad. She spends 2 pages bashing him for being a general all around piece of shit, the offers to sell him her parental rights for $30,000. He Jewed her down to $7500. The only time she ever saw the kid after was when my folks would pick him up and bring him to her place in Seattle or here. She never ever went to see him.

A couple of funny postscripts: When he originally bailed, my mom told me, a fucking 5 or 6 year old, that he bailed because I "played with dolls". GI Joes. I'm not bitter.

My folks, up until the kid was maybe in his mid 20's went to Oregon every year to see him for at least two weeks. He was living in a group home, had a job, had a pretty good existence as far as kids like that go. One summer they went and saw him and there was a ruckus over some minor thing the kid was obsessing over. Nothing that would be shocking behaviour tard- wise. So minor that to be honest I don't remember the details. My dad told him if he didn't knock it off they were leaving and never coming back. And they didn't. 15ish years of no contact. None. After my mom told me the story, that was the last that was ever mentioned of him. Never typed it all out before. Wow.

The Cunt ended up getting fired from her power gig and moved to Arizona. Married some high powered corporate lawyer. He turned out to be a drunk who punched her. She whined to my folks, they bought her a divorce, paid off her house and got her a new car. She wracked up $400 worth of collect calls to my parents. My dad said he'd pay it, but would buy her calling cards for when she needed to call. Cunt was like in her late 50's. This was unacceptable to her, and said she just wouldn't call again. And didn't. They never spoke after that. Then moved and changed her number. It really haunted my dad his last few months. He asked both me and my other sister (we both gave up on her years before) to try to track her because he was afraid something would happen and she wouldn't know.

When he died we were both walking on eggshells just knowing she'd pop up at the funeral for her grand return. She didn't, but luckily my ex wife filled in for her cunt- wise.

Pretty fucked up, I guess.

Who can say? I had been on non- speaking terms with her for a few years when she came home for Xmas one year. She starts yammering to me about it, and all I can think is how much vodka and blow I'd seen her go through over the years. Pot/ kettle. I actually don't think I believed her, or really cared all that much.

When my dad died, my mom's early stage dementia jumped into something more advanced pretty overnight. So my sister and I were pretty much running the show the week between him dying and the funeral. At some point early on my sister (whose animosity with the Cunt goes back way farther than mine) asked about what happens if/ when the Cunt showed up for the festivities. I told her I honestly hoped she was dead. Even my sister was kind of shocked, but it was and is true. Haven't heard a peep from her, so hopefully she is. I run a search for her maybe once or twice a year. Rather know where she's coming from and not be surprised.

That week was the "switch" in my head that told me my marriage was done. My sister and I spent the afternoon after he was gone with the undertaker writing the obit, planning the service, all that fun stuff. I was pretty wiped. I come home to my precious bride on the couch watching Dr. Phil or some shit. She looks up and asks "where you been? Have you been out paying bills?". I told her where I'd been. She tells me I should've been paying bills instead. What the f'ing fuck?

My company has a pretty generous bereavement leave, so I was basically off work from Friday until the Monday a week later. Maybe Tuesdayish, I'm puttering around the house waiting to go to the appointment with the Padre doing the service. She walks in the door, looks at me and launches over rather or not I was going to work this week. Really snotty tone. I told her she knew how long I was going to be off because she was there when I talked to my boss about it. Of course, I was a liar, that had never happened. I shrugged my shoulders and left to go have a few cocktails before the meeting.

It pretty much went on like that all week. It's a wonder I didn't smother her with a pillow. In retrospect, I think I'd have never been convicted. Ah, what could have been.

Now as to the GI Joe thing. I had them. Before them, I had a "Captain Maddox" doll.


I never considered them a doll in the same way my sister considered her Barbies. Mine were blown up by firecrackers, flown into the atmosphere strapped to Gayla kites and submerged many times in the Sea Wolf submarine.



The most bogus thing foisted on a boy back then was a GI Joe with lifelike hair and Kung Fu grip- the hair washed or burned out and the hands broke in half.