You should know I get a tad bitchy from time to time.

Things don’t change, they haven’t and they won’t. What things…hmmm…the desire to disembowel a tyrannical fuck.

Life’s too short to be miserable.

Life’s the longest damn thing you’ll ever do and to have an abusive, tyrannical fuck just prolonging your misery…well…


What would you do? Leave? What if leaving is not an option? Killing the asshole? Well of course that is always an option…but murder is quite a messy affair….there’s all that blood, not to mention the possibility of ending locked up in a cell. Sheesh…sometimes life is too complicated, but only because we make it so.

I want out off the merry-go-round, rollercoaster, seesaw, heck just get me away from the kids playground and drop me off where the grown ups go. Not sure where that is, but I aim to get there, I may drive around to see if I can find it, or maybe see if my GPS has a clue…or if anyone out there in the internets know give me a clue.

I was totally weirded out this past weekend, entering an establishment and having hands go up and out to reach out for my arm…I called it groping, but everyone else seems to disagree and tell me that that is not considered groping. Sure the word is most often associated with hands going all willy nilly into the nether regions, but I was not impressed with the attempts at getting my attention, if that is what it was. I just soldiered on and followed along all the while ignoring and slapping hands away. I do wonder if this is an activity exclusive to the taco hat wearing variety of the male species.

Laughter is good. HAHA!

The EX Files ~ Part 11

To read the complete series go to “CATEGORIES” on the right side and click on “THE WRITE STUFF”.

She was home alone with her kids, she had 3 and they were like stair steps, ages 2, 3, & 4, it had all happened so fast, one day she was relishing the carefree romance and new relationship headed towards marriage. The next thing she knew she was a tired married mother of 3, where did the time go? She no longer had the time for herself, her days were spent cleaning up after kids, changing diapers, potty training, teaching them the abc’s and how to count and making sure the house was spotless and dinner was on the table for when HE got home.

Everything had to be perfect, the kids had to be perfect, they had to be clean, and they had to be quiet when he got home. He barely spent any time with them when he got home, he preferred to sit in front of the TV where he could have a couple of drinks while she got the table set, got the kids fed and served him his dinner. After dinner he would return to watch TV while she cleaned up the kitchen, bathed the kids, and put them to bed.

He loved her so much that he couldn’t wait to ravage her, nightly. He sometimes couldn’t contain his desire for her, he would insist the kids cry themselves to sleep without her, but she needed to take her place in their bed, he had his needs, he needed her too. He needed her badly; he would take her over and over and over, every night. She would protest that she was tired and she knew better, after all as he was fond of reminding her, she didn’t have a job. He was the one that had a job, he took care of all of them, she had the whole day off at home with the kids. Staying at home was not a job.

The panties. That was a big mistake on her part, her birthday had just passed and her sister had given her panties and bras and a couple of blouses. She forgot to tell him about the gift and she was wearing a new pair of panties, of course he had never seen them. He began ranting at her about them, who was she wearing them for, why was she wearing them, who gave them to her, then he hit her, and he took her, over and over and over again. He hadn’t let her get a word in edgewise, he was outside of himself, he was letting her know she was a dirty slut, a tramp, a whore and if she wanted to get fucked with her sexy little panties he would fuck her, over and over and over again.

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

The tummy calls~

It calls me lazy, so I guess off to the kitchen to get busy with the cooking, it’ll be quick and lite leaving room for popcorn later. In my next life I want a personal chef, I am not very imaginative and not so much into cooking, but with hungry kids I have to get creative. So lemon pepper over a bed of rice, steamed veggies and ice water. Maybe a salad….Lemon%20Pepper%20Chicken%20Saute

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