Tag Archives: daughter

Origins #27

13 Jan

I promised at the end of origins #26 that I’d give you some insight into how I grew up because it’ll become relevant to the story, so buckle your seatbelts, because my back story is so fully of Jerry Springer type shit that you probably won’t even believe it.

This one’s epic so don’t expect to get through it in one go…

My family

Like most people of my generation, I was born to a man and a woman. My mother had already had two daughters to her first husband before I arrived. They were 9 and 7 years old respectively when I showed up, and my little brother, also born to my father, would join us about a year and a half later.

So right off the bat, I’ve got two half sisters and a brother, but my father had already had a son to another woman, so I had another half brother. I only met him once though, so I don’t think of him as family.

I would eventually learn that when my mother was 19, she’d gotten pregnant to some handsome young foreigner who promptly skipped out on her, leaving her too embarrassed to admit the situation to her parents, and gaving that child up for adoption. So, technically speaking, I have another half brother out in the world.

But wait… there’s more!

My mother and father never married. In fact, my father was out of the picture before my brother was even born. My mother then found a man who already had 3 daughters of his own, and married him, making him my stepfather. His daughters were older than my sisters and lived with their mother, but technically this added 3 stepsisters to my already complex family.

Say what!?

So, technically I have 2 half sisters, 3 step sisters, 2 half brothers (one of whom I’ve never met and the other I only met once), and one full blood brother.

But when I talk about my family, I refer to my two half sisters as my sisters, and my full blood brother as my brother, and even though I called him ‘Dad’ most of my childhood, I refer to my stepfather as my stepfather, and only ever refer to my father as my father, neither of them ever get the title Dad these days.

The story begins

My sisters and their father

As I mentioned, my mother had her first son at the age of 19 but gave him up for adoption. That would have been back in 1968. Then in 1970 my mother met and married Les Harland, and they would go on to have my sisters, Erica in late 1970, and Kylie in 1972.

I don’t know when Les and my mother divorced, but I know that before that happened, Les molested both Erica and Kylie, and I know that he did this repeatedly. I also know he was a taxi driver with a gambling addiction, so what money he did make, burned through his pockets so quickly he might as well not have made any at all.

Sadly, I believe it was the gambling, not the sexual assault that caused the divorce. I’m not sure if my Mum knew of the abuse at the time but it became common knowledge in the family before the girls eventually moved out of home. Nothing was ever done about it and it drives me crazy.

My father, me, and my brother

I’m not sure how long my mother had to get by as a single parent of two young daughters, but I she must have known my father since at least 1978, because I was born in 1979. My father, Henry, was an alcoholic. I knew that since I was little, but it wasn’t until 2016 that I would learn that he was also violent and that he would sometimes come home drunk and climb into bed with my sisters, claiming it was all just a mistake the next day.

Come 1981, with my brother Alex still in her womb, my mother and father went their separate ways. I didn’t know anything about what caused the end of their relationship when I was a kid. All I knew was there was a time my father was around, and then he wasn’t around any more.

I was told repeatedly as a kid that because my parents were never married, making me a bastard. I think that’s why I always assumed I was the result of an accidental pregnancy.

My father didn’t disappear completely. He would visit us on Christmas and Easter and our birthdays. And then just on Christmas, and maybe our birthdays. And then maybe our birthdays. And then just text messages.

I know my father went bankrupt. I know he lost his drivers license for 10 years. I know I look a lot like him. I know he left behind his first son, and then he left my brother and I behind as well, and then he took up with a lady who already had two sons and was a father to them.

Love your neighbour

With my father gone and my mother with 3 children and one on the way, she had very little choice but to move into the cheapest place she could find. That would be a block of flats in one of the cheapest suburbs in Perth at the time.

Being the only parent, she had to work, which meant she had to rely on people to baby-sit. The problem was, my mother had moved to Perth from a small country town and didn’t really know many people, least of all in this new suburb, so she had to make friends with her neighbours and have them baby-sit us.

I would later learn that one of those neighbours who babysat us was imprisoned for molesting children.

The kids need a man in the house

My mother was of the opinion that children need a father, and I’m sure the idea of no being dependent on neighbours to baby-sit spurred her on too, so she made sure to find a man to play the role of father to her now 4 children. My mother married my stepfather, Des, in the early 80s, but I couldn’t tell you the year.

My first memory of Des, which might actually be my first ever memory, is of telling Des I’d race him to our new HomesWest (government) house.

I remember running my little legs off down the footpath. I remember that I beat him. I was about 4 years old and yet I outran a fully grown man. The fact that Des smoked at least a  pack of Winfield Blues every day probably had something to do with my victory.

Our new house was in a different part of that same, very poor suburb my Mum we had all been living in, but I remember being overwhelmed with excitement that we didn’t have to live in the flats any more.

Plenty of fish in the sea

So, how did my mother meet my stepfather? I didn’t find out until about 15 years later, but they actually met through a dating agency. Back in the day that was seen as a somewhat embarrassing thing, but my mother had four kids so I’m not surprised she went that path, but let me tell you why Des ended up going that route.

Des was mentally ill. I believe that was what caused his divorce from the mother of his daughters. Des had worked at a shoe factory for 30 years and had a mental breakdown along the way. I assume that either that caused the divorce, or that the divorce caused the breakdown.

Either way, he got a fortnightly needle in the bum to keep him in check, and he smoked all those cigarettes as a form of self medicating. He said they calmed him down. He’d sit there in a cloud of smoke lighting the next cigarette while he’s still smoking the current one, just to avoid the few seconds between them.

Us kids new that Des was sick, but we didn’t know exactly what that meant. We just knew he was ‘crazy’ and that he’d had electroshock therapy.

Like so many other parts of my life, it wasn’t until many years later that I’d find out the actual condition Des had. I remember very clearly reading the black typewritten text on the yellowed paper, it said “Schizophrenia”. If I hadn’t seen that document, I’m not sure I would have ever found out.

A big family in a little house

It was a three bedroom house so Mum and Des were in the master bedroom. Erica and Kylie were in one bedroom, and Alex and I in the other room.

We must have been there before I started pre-primary because I remember very distinctly one time Mum picked me up from Kindergarten to bring me home to that house…

As Mum took a right hand turn the door on my left swung open, not having been properly closed, and I rolled out of that open door. I don’t know if I was actually buckled into a seat belt or not but by caution or dumb luck I ended up tangled upside down in that brown, ratty, old, non self-tightening belt, dangling millimetres from the road. No harm, no foul, I suppose.

So if I was still in kindy, I was younger than 5, which means Alex was about 3, Kylie was about 12 and Erica was roughly 14. Until recently I remembered those early days very fondly. That would change as a result of the rest of what happens in the origins story.

It’s not like there weren’t bad times, I just didn’t think about them very often. I guess that was part of my technique of choosing to not care about things as a way to stop them affecting me.

Bad things

I’m not super keen to tell you the bad things, but I think it really helps explain a lot of why the rest of the origins story plays out the way it does.

For starters, I grew up around two girls who had been sexually abused, that in itself is a very bad thing. My sisters both struggled to cope with the fallout of being abused. Of course they struggled, they were little girls who had been violated and they wouldn’t have had the skills to properly process all the feelings that come with such a violation. They also weren’t taken to anyone to help them understand the situation, and worst of all, the perpetrator was never even arrested for his crimes. In fact, the police were never even informed that these crimes were committed.

Erica’s way of dealing with having been molested was to turn in on herself and become a very quiet, timid girl who just wanted to be alone as much as possible. Kylie went the other way. She became aggressive and loud and in-your-face, and she became quite violent.

Dealing with Kylie

Kylie, being 7 years older than me, had a significant height and weight advantage over me, and I’d been told I was never allowed to hit a girl, no matter what. That meant as futile as my defences might have been against someone so much older, I wasn’t even allowed to fight back. Unfortunately for me Kylie knew that too.

She used to torment me. She used to straight up torture me.

Kylie would learn all these martial arts moves and use them against me. She’d bend my arm behind my back and sit on me to hold me in place, then she’d punch me with one  knuckle pushed out to give me a “dead arm” or a “dead leg“, or one of each, or all four limbs at once, depending on her mood.

Then there were the pressure points, Chinese burns, the camel bites, the hair pulling, the ear twisting, the head locks, the good old fashioned kicks to any and every part of my body, but the biggest prize in Kylie’s eyes, was to get me right in the balls.

Logically I know there’s no shame in being Even though I know mathematically there should be no shame in that for me, it’s hard to ignore the fact that you were beaten by a girl, especially because Kylie would point that out to me while she was beating the shit out of me. She’d literally say things like “You’re getting beat up by a girl,” or “I’m just a girl, I can’t hurt a boy,” and my least favourite of all… “Are you gonna cry?” which would of course be said in repetition while she hit me over and over until the pain overwhelmed my tiny little body and eventually the tears would come out.

I hated the pain but what I hated more was someone forcing me to do what they wanted, and enjoying making me feel weak. The fact that I wasn’t allowed to fight back made it so much worse.

You might think that because Kylie tortured me that I didn’t care for her, but you’d be wrong. I loved her dearly. I hated that she hurt me, but because she was so smart she was fun to play games with and she was witty and funny and just fun to be around. Despite all the shit she put me through, she was probably my favourite sibling.

I loved her so much that seeing her accidentally run through a glass door and get all cut up left me so traumatised and upset that I urinated blood for a few days afterwards.

Dealing with Des

I knew Des was ‘crazy’ but I didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but I knew he’d act really weird sometimes and that I’d have no idea why. I’d say something that everyone else in the room understood to mean one thing, but Des would take it as a personal attack. Even as a little kid I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, so I’d try really hard to word things as inoffensively as possible, but he’d always find new ways to be offended by me.

Des was one of those people who claim to be Christian but never go to church and completely ignore the basic teachings of the bible. Regardless, he was quite focussed on God and Jesus and the devil.

One day, very early on when I was maybe 6, Des told me that he knew that Alex, my little brother was second coming of Jesus, and that I was the Antichrist. I didn’t even know what the Antichrist was. I had to ask the guy at the Church the rest of us actually did go to what it meant, and he just said “the devil”.

So Alex was all that is good, and I was all that is evil. That’s a hell of a thing to hear when you’re barely old enough to tie up your own shoes.

Another important thing about Des was the fact that he was almost completely illiterate, which meant that I was able to read more than him by about mid-way through year one (5/6 years old). Des hated that. When I would try to read my little golden books I loved so much, he’d accuse me of trying to rub it in that I was smarter than him.

And Des sure didn’t mind giving a hiding. Any chance he got he’d belt my scrawny little frame until I was a blubbering mess. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep because I was so sore that night. Sometimes it was a few nights later before I could get comfortable again.

When Des hit me, it was terrifying. Obviously getting smacked is going to be scary for a little kid, but Des would get this look in his eyes. They’d bulge out a bit and it was like an animal was attacking you. I don’t know how else to describe it but the scariest part of all was not knowing if he’d stop.

Sometimes he’d at least start out trying to be playful. He’d tickle me and I’d laugh, and then he’d keep tickling me for too long and I’d scream at him to stop, but he’d keep tickling me. He’d hold me down and keep tickling me and he’d ask “what, are you gonna cry?” “Are you a little cry baby?” And, big shock, a little kid will cry if you do that to them long enough.

He’d pull that whole “Are you gonna cry?” thing when it didn’t start out so playful as well. Sometimes he just wanted to prove that he was stronger than me, so he’d just hold me down and poke me, or just say mean shit to me, or keep smacking me, or whatever else would come to his mind, but it was always with the same goal… of making me cry.

Dealing with Des, part 2

Des was violent, and certainly that was something I disliked about him, but physical pain dissipates so quickly. The things that stick with a kid, or at least this kid, are the things people say, and Des just loved to tell me things.

He’d tell me that I was ugly. That I was a “slow learner” (that era’s equivalent to retard). He’d tell me I was useless, and selfish, and greedy, that I was weak, that I had a stupid smile, and that I dumb, that I was stupid, that I was too skinny, and worthless, and on and on.

A couple of his absolutely favourites were, “No girl will ever want you.” and “You’ll never keep a job.

It’s hard to know how often he said those things. I didn’t like to hear them so I tried very hard to not let them in, and I managed to forget about them for a very long time. When I was reminded that I was told all those sorts of things, it felt like I must have heard them every single day of my childhood, but I’m sure it couldn’t have been that frequently. I can assure you though, that it was a very, very regular occurrence for me to hear those sorts of things.

Dealing with Des, part 3

I was not Des’ only target. Des didn’t like Kylie much either. Kylie was smart and the older she got, the harder it became for anyone to make Kylie do anything she didn’t want to do.

Kylie was a straight A student in primary school but that all changed when she started high school. All of a sudden she wanted to be with the cool kids and she focused her attention on that instead of school. Her grades plummeted and her lack of respect for authority started to put her at odds with Des.

They were at each other constantly. They’d scream at each other, and swear, and sometimes Des would smack her and if he did Kylie would fight back.

Our little 3 bedroom HomesWest home wasn’t big enough for the two of ’em, and I bet the whole suburb could hear it. I’m sure it comes as no surprise to anyone that this battle escalated over time.

The peak of their battle happened while I was still quite young. I estimate Kylie being around 15 at the time, making me about 8.

I remember Des and Kylie yelling at each other. I remember looking at them while they screamed at each other. Kylie’s hair whipping about as she moved. Des’ eyes bulging in that way that always meant trouble. His white singlet yellowed from wear and from absorbing the smoke of innumerable cigarettes. The cheap, grey, dress pants and belt he always wore around the house even though he never went anywhere or did anything.

I remember his hands around her throat.

I remember her ripping at his fingers for all she was worth.

I remember the stance of a man in his 40s wringing the neck of a young teenage girl, with him the aggressor, leaning forward, and her the desperate, overpowered victim, in a pose of sheer terror.

I remember standing there in my pyjamas wanting desperately to do something, and I remember not being able to move. I couldn’t even make a noise.

I remember the moment he dropped her limp body and how it collapsed into the ground.

I remember believing my sister was dead.

It felt like hours went by.

And then she suddenly made this ungodly noise, this revolting, animalistic heave of inhalation. It might well have been the most awful noise I had ever heard, but to me it was the most beautiful sound that could ever exist, it was the sound of my sister coming back from the dead.

And do you know what happened next?

My mother told us all he didn’t mean it. My mother genuinely believed we could all just carry on living the way we had before.

That didn’t work so well for Des. He had another nervous breakdown. He went back to Greylands for about 6 weeks and got some more electroshock therapy.

Seeya later Kylie

Prize for the least surprising moment of this story goes to the fact that Kylie moved out almost immediately after Des tried to kill her. She went off to live with some friends and very quickly got in over her head with drugs and alcohol.

She met a man who somehow puts up with the chaos that she continues to generate even to this day and managed to have 4 children with him. The first was born when Kylie was 19.

Kylie accidentally killed their second child in her sleep by rolling onto him when he was just 11 days old. She told the rest of the world that her baby was a victim of SIDS. I didn’t find out the truth until 20 years after the fact.

Her other 3 children would go through a hectic upbringing surrounded by constant drug use and alcohol.

Seeya later Erica

Erica moved out within the same year as Kylie because she’d just finished year 12. She went off to live with my grandparents in a small country town. Erica had gotten progressively more religious as the years went on and the small town environment suited her well.

She would meet a man and have a child to him, only for the father of her child to disappear on her.

Due to her religion, Erica thought she should be able to forgive her father for molesting her, so when he came knocking looking for a place to live, having been kicked out by everyone else he knew, she took pity on him and let him move into her house with her and her young child.

I was very angry about it and made that well known, but people are going to do what they’re going to do.

It turned out that I was wrong about what would happen, but I was 100% right that letting that monster into her house was a terrible idea. See, as far as I know he didn’t touch Erica’s son, but he did leave his fucking cigarette lighter on the coffee table and leave Erica’s 5 year old son alone in the house with the cigarette lighter.

The house burned to the ground. Erica had no insurance.

I’m very thankful to say that the community rallied around Erica and her boy and they bought her a new house on the same block. I don’t tend to appreciate religion but I hope there’s a God out there who can reward those good people in the afterlife, and I hope there’s a devil to take care of Les Harland.

Where was my Mum in all this?

She was working.

Des got a disability pension but it all went on cigarettes. Just after he nearly killed Kylie he was smoking 100 cigarettes a day and his pension didn’t even cover his cigarettes at that point.

So my Mum had to work to cover all the bills, and holy shit did she ever work! She cleaned houses and was often gone for 12 or 14 hours a day, sometimes 7 days a week. Once a week she’d round Alex and I up to go deliver newspapers and we’d use the $4 we each made to buy our Red Rooster for dinner.

If my Mum could pick up some work washing dishes, or cleaning an office, or anything like that, she’d take it on. Whatever she could do, she would do.

My Mum made sure we had enough money to get by. Now, if you ever saw how skinny us kids were you might disagree, but we none of us starved to death. Sure, the other kids made fun of the holes in my clothes, and they made fun of how long I went without hair cuts, and that you my toes poked out of my shoes, and that I had to wear clothes I’d long since outgrown, but I’m still here and you don’t get much for being fashionable in primary school anyway.

One more thing about Mum working. Des would sit on the front porch waiting all day for her to come home. He’d sit there and stare at the street desperately nervous that this would be the day she wouldn’t come home.

He was right

Kylie left us. Erica left us. Turned out it was only a matter of time before Mum left us.

I’d finished school and had my first job when my Mum finally pulled the pin. Believe it or not, I didn’t see it coming at all.

My Mum and Des had never had a good relationship. They’d scream at each other and throw shit at each other and occasionally a plate or a coffee cup would explode on a wall between phrases like “You don’t fucking love me you lying bitch!” and “I’ve been working all day and you haven’t even done the dishes!” and “I’ll leave! I’ll fucking leave! Don’t you test me!”

You’d think the writing was on the wall in amongst the shattered porcelain, but I genuinely didn’t see it coming because they’d had this horrible, co-dependent relationship for 16 years by the time it finally broke.

I have no problem with my mother leaving my stepfather. It was the right thing for her to do. I wish she’d done it earlier.

What I do have a problem with is how my Mum finished things up. She just didn’t come home.

She didn’t fucking warn me and it was days before I knew what had happened to her. That was pretty stressful but it only got worse when she finally did contact me because she told me she’d spoken to HomesWest, the government housing body who she rented the house through and told them she was moving out. You have to have a certain number of people staying in your house to qualify for HomesWest and with Mum gone, we didn’t qualify any more.

So not only did my parents just break-up and my Mum had gone missing for days, I was now due to be evicted, effectively scheduled to be homeless.

For fuck’s sake.

Seeya Grandad

It’s difficult to cram a whole life into a single post but this story just wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t include my Grandfather.

I’ve told you about my father, the alcoholic bankrupt. I’ve told you about my sisters’ father, the child molesting gambling addict; and I’ve told you about my stepfather, the schizophrenic stepdaughter strangler and all round child abuser.

As far as male role models they left a lot to be desired, but that didn’t matter because I had my Grandfather.

When World War II broke out my Grandad was too young to go, so he lied about his age and went anyway. He was shot through the knee and captured and was a prisoner of war for five years. He eventually gets back to Australia and he goes home and starts a farm, and does alright with that farm too. Not bad for a bloke who can no longer bend his left leg!

And as the world progressed, so did he. When he bought a Datsun ute, all his mates had a go at him for buying a Japanese vehicle. He said, simply “The war is over. We need to move on.”

And for a man who’d been through so much and worked so damned hard and seen his daughter make such bad decisions with men, he was nothing but adoring of his grandchildren, regardless of how they came about. He was always ready to have a laugh and always had a joke to tell.

I don’t know if the other kids felt the same but he made me feel special every time I saw him. He called me a special nickname that nobody else in the world ever called me and he’d pick me up and put me on his shoulders like fathers do in the movies. He played cricket with us into his 70s!

I got the short straw with a lot of things, but I had a legend of a grandfather and I’ll be forever thankful for that.

But my Grandfather left us too.

It happened just after I found out my Mum had left Des and I found out I was staring down an upcoming homelessness. Des got a call at home from someone looking for my Mum to let her know her father had been rushed to a hospital in Perth.

Des relayed the message to me when I came home for  my break in my shift at the pizza store. I wanted to call the pizza store to cancel my shift so I could go to the hospital but Des wouldn’t let me use the phone. He told me that my grandfather was ok, that I’d be able to see him tomorrow, that I should let him get some rest.

I argued but I was going to need all the money I could get for when we were evicted and Des seemed so certain that my Grandad was alright and that it wasn’t urgent and I was due back at work and I didn’t know what to do, so I went back to work.

When I got home 4 or so hours later, Des told me my Grandfather had passed away while I was at work.

I was devastated.

A few days later I found that document with Des’s diagnosis that I mentioned earlier. That word Schizophrenia answered a lot of questions.

The leftovers

I didn’t talk much about Alex. He was a good kid but a bit socially awkward. I love him but I didn’t treated him very well. I wasn’t nearly as violent to him as Kylie was to me, but we had our fair share of tussles and I always won, except for the time he chased me AND GOT ME with a steaming hot iron.

After Mum left us, I moved in with friends. It was great fun but after a few years I went back to study and moved in with my Mum, my brother, his wife, and their newborn child.

About a year and a half into that Mum tells me that she’s buying a house and that her, my brother and my brother’s wife would be going thirds in the mortgage.

That meant… I had nowhere to live… again.

So I moved in with some people I’d met through my studies. One of them used to many drugs and slipped into a drug induced psychosis which lead him to believe I was trying to hook up with his pregnant girlfriend, which wouldn’t be such a big deal if he hadn’t studied Muay Thai Kickboxing for 15 years and collected all his rage into a fist and king hit me while I was cleaning up after one of his parties.

He knocked me out and fractured my skull in the process. I don’t know how or why I didn’t fall over while that happened but he guy who x-rayed my skull said I’m lucky I didn’t because I would have very likely died.

After that I started a small business, played in a few bands got involved with that girlfriend I was with for 6 years. Literally nothing happened in that 6 years except for me getting fat, working really hard, driving my car at the race track and finally getting my job at Everlong.

Now back to the actual story

I hope this was remotely interesting to read. I think it’s necessary information for what’s ahead in the origins story and I’ll refer back to this a lot to help things make sense as the story continues.

Hopefully you feel like you know me a little better. I wasn’t lying about the Jerry Springer shit, was I?!

Don’t get into a catfight with teenaged school girls

12 Feb

Here in my home town of Perth, Western Australia, footage has surfaced of a grown woman getting in amongst a fight between her daughter and another girl from the same school. The mother has then tackled the girl her daughter was fighting with and mounted her like a big old maniac and screamed right into that terrified teenagers face, eventually escalating the situation by punching the child in the face.

See for yourself.

It’s early days in the story and I’m sure more details will come to light. I have my suspicions that the girl who ended up having someone’s mum screaming in her face might have done a few things that she shouldn’t have, but it wouldn’t matter even if she has because being a horrible little shit is pretty much your job when you’re a teenager. As an adult, you have to know better than to go around tackling children to the ground, screaming at them and punching them in the face and giving them black eyes.

Even if the only reason you don’t go around mounting and assaulting teenagers is that you know it would be embarrassing to be caught on video being such a twat, that’s ok. Whatever your reasoning, the important part is that you do not go around beating up children.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a fan of high school kids even at the best of times. Holy mackerel are they annoying! I totally understand the urge belt them upside the head. The thing is, they’re really not old enough to know what they’re doing yet. So, as a fully grown adult, you have to ignore their ridiculous antics and focus on doing things the right way. If a kid is trying to hurt your kid, of course you stop that from happening, but then you go to the police and have the kid charged with assault. You do not act just as bad as the child and go all crazy bitch by assaulting the kid!

If you want to read more about this sorry state of affairs, you can do so here: http://www.9news.com.au/national/2015/02/12/05/17/mum-gets-involved-in-fight-between-schoolgirls-in-perth

Crazy bitch tip: Even in the most trying of circumstances, you must maintain adult level behaviour.

PS: Wooohoooo 200 posts!!!

Don’t go nuts about nuts

9 Feb

The 40 year old daughter of the chairman of Korean Airlines has gone through quite the fall from grace after throwing a massive tantrum on a plane when a steward dared to serve her macadamia nuts in a bag, rather than on a plate. The videos below explain in a bit more detail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The moral of this story is, you may believe that having a powerful father exempts you from treating your fellow humans with respect, but you will eventually go too far and receive your comeuppance. If you come from a wealthy, powerful family, don’t go around acting like a crazy bitch. Instead, be thankful for the ridiculously fortunate position you happened to be born into.

The fact that this woman is 40 only makes it worse. It would still be unacceptable if these ridiculous actions had been carried out by a teenager, but at least being young and immature might cover some of the farcical nature of the events. It’s embarrassing for everyone involved when you see a grown woman throw a tantrum.

Crazy bitch tip: Do not crack the shits if someone serves your macadamia nuts in a bag instead of on a plate.

Don’t cause 13 year old boys to ejaculate in your vagina

23 Dec

I would have thought that was self-explanatory but apparently I thought wrong. Here is some evidence.

There are many things I could comment about in regards to this video, but let’s go bullet point styles instead:

  • She’s 6 years older than this kid and he was a close family friend
  • That’s rape, and also massively disrespectful to her close family friends
  • Not only did she rape the boy, she decides that the boy should now be a father because she believes she did such a good job or raping him, that she got pregnant to him
  • It turns out that the kid she raped is not even the father of the child, so not only did she rape a boy, she mistakenly accused him of being the father of her child and was ready to try and get money out of him to help raise a kid that wasn’t his
  • She’s openly admitted to raping a boy, and to getting pregnant without even knowing who the actual father of the child is, and her child is bound to see this video one day

I feel bad for both the kids involved. The boy who was raped got off relatively easy by not being the father of his rapists child I suppose, but geez what a terrifying situation to go through as a 14 year old. As for the rapists child, man oh man what a life that kid’s in for. It’s not often you think a kid would be far better off without their mother in their life at all.

Crazy bitch tip: if you choose to have sex, do so in a manner which ensures that you know who you are actually pregnant to, or better yet, do so in a way that ensures you don’t get pregnant unintentionally.

 

Be less childish than your child

22 Dec

Watch this.

That blonde lady is a real bitch. She is a horrible, horrible person. Her son bullied the sweet young lady who’s on stage, and this blonde goblin dares to point out that she had a difficult time hearing that her son got in trouble for doing so! I’m not sure what planet she’s on but it sure as hell ain’t Earth.

Blonde thingI can’t believe she had the gall to taunt the woman who is kindly standing up for her emotionally abused daughter and then, when she’s caught out doing it, to throw out the most insulting of all apologies “I’m sorry if that made you feel bad”. Fuck her!

The thing that pushes the bully’s mother from bitch territory right over the edge into crazy bitch territory, is that she’s acting that way while she’s being filmed. She’s being so awful with full knowledge that she’s being filmed, and that means she thinks what she’s doing is ok!

Condesending and immature

This screenshot doesn’t capture the Cheshire cat smile this bitch has while taunting the bullied girls mother, watch the video from about 5:42 to get a proper look at it.

Double fuck her for daring to say things like “We’ll pray for you” and all the other rubbish about God. I’m not religious but I’ve got no real qualms with anyone believing in something if it makes their life better, but I sure have an issue with these human ringworms who decide they’re all high and mighty because they have faith in a religion.

When that blonde thing implies that she’s a good person because she has faith it makes me want to throw some holy water on her just to see if she catches fire and melts into the ground. If her God is up there, he sure as fuck ain’t opening any pearly gates for her!

It’s so obvious that the blonde’s son learned to bully from his mother’s example. I know ‘doctor’ Phil isn’t exactly high brow at the best of times but I can’t even comprehend how he just lets that blonde blob taunt and hassle that young girl and her mother after all the bullying and even death threats they experienced.

When the mother of the bullied child nearly breaks down into tears in disbelief that people seem to find her and her daughter’s suffering to be funny and entertaining, I’m right there with her. Seriously, what the fuck is going on? How is everyone just ok with how the bully’s mother is behaving? How does the entire audience not just rise up and chase her out of the studio?!!?

Beyond that, why the fuck is ‘doctor’ Phil talking down to the bullied girl’s mother? Why is he acting like she’s being unreasonable? Fair play, the bullied girl’s mother does have a whiny voice and she’s very mopy but she should be mopy! Her kid was mercilessly bullied and the parents of two of her daughter’s attackers are sitting there mocking her.

One thing that really gets me riled up is seeing a monster roaming around with the disguise of a human face. I reckon that blonde banshee is precisely that and I hope karma finds her and delivers a massive helping of comeuppance.

Crazy bitch tip: Never, ever use the apology “I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings”. It is the most insulting apology there is.

Origins #2

18 Nov

Now where was I?

Oh that’s right… I was telling you about that time I consumed so much absinthe that I nearly died.

So yeah, that was a direct result of my boss’s daughter having spent the night in my bed about two weeks prior.

I know, I know. You don’t sleep with your boss’s daughter.

The thing is, I’m not the sort of guy you need to tell that to. I’m really, really, really, really careful about stuff like that.

I do my level best not to hook up with anyone if it’s going to make things weird and there’s a damned good reason behind that. I hate drama. I absolutely hate it. I avoid drama like it’s the plague and if I can see that a situation might lead to some drama down the line, I’ll stop it in its tracks.

With that said, I have slept with coworkers in the past. But I’ve been cautious about it and completely up front about the situation, so it’s never turned out awkward. If it looks like things are getting weird, I just get together with the girl and we talk it out. Half an hour later any awkwardness that was creeping in has been resolved and we all get to carry on with our lives drama free.

I’ve applied the same approach to “friends with benefits” arrangements too and it’s served me well. It’s so straight forward to me, you just be honest and up front and talk everything through. If one side is after something serious and the other is just after some fun, then it can’t happen because shit will get awkward. If we’re both on the same page though, we get to have some fun and nobody has to worry about any of the bullshit that can come about when the two parties are confused.

I hate drama. I hate secrets. I hate people’s feelings being hurt unnecessarily. So I do what I can to avoid those things.

So how did my boss’s daughter end up in my bed?

Yeah, about that…

The job

It’s not wise for me to use real names here, so we’ll call the business Everlong and we’ll call my boss’s daughter Rene. I met Rene when I started a new job way back in February 2008. I’d been freelancing since 2003 but in 2008 I worked with a client who pissed me off so badly, I decided to quit freelancing altogether just to make sure I never had to deal with them again. Let’s call that client The Department of Infuriation.

So I found a job with Everlong and it was fantastic. The people were unbelievably nice and my pay there was well above market rate. I thought I’d stumbled into a little heaven on earth.

The Boss: Tim Everlong

Rene’s father, Tim, the owner of the company, was really welcoming. He was the sort of guy I always wanted to become: successful, financially comfortable and with a lovely family.

Best of all, though… I didn’t have to deal with clients anymore!

Boss’s daughter #1: Laura Everlong

Tim’s other daughter, Laura, was the manager of the building I worked at. Just like everyone else involved in the whole Everlong operation, she was lovely. Laura was quite the stunningly attractive young woman too and I reckon every guy in the office had a crush on her. You could hardly blame them. Picture dealing with someone like this every day at work…

Picture Laura like this.

Picture Laura like this. Demure, elegant, classy, refined, and downright gorgeous.

Boss’s daughter #2: Rene Everlong

I think I met Rene at the first work function we had. Unlike her sister Laura, Rene is the sort of girl who makes sure you notice her. Where Laura is elegant and classy, Rene is brash and flirtatious. I had a girlfriend at the time who I’d been with for several years, so while I noticed Rene, I wasn’t even remotely thinking about the possibility of anything happen with her.

Like I said though, Rene likes people to know she’s there, and even though I was sitting there with my girlfriend I couldn’t help but get an eyeful of Rene’s physique. It’s not like I was trying to, it’s just that as a straight male you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

This pic is in the ballpark of what we were dealing with…

Picture Rene like this. Flirtatious, overt, attention-demanding and downright sexy.

Picture Rene like this. Flirtatious, overt, attention-demanding, a little bit inappropriate, and above all… sexy.

As the days go by

I’d go into Laura’s office every morning to say hi and we’d end up chatting for ages. I’d say we became pretty good friends, though there was always a clearly defined boundary between boss and employee, I still got away with teasing her and making cheeky remarks when other staff members definitely could not. Laura had a boyfriend, so there was never any concern about anything inappropriate happening. I think we’d both have laughed if anyone ever suggested that we were flirting because it was such a completely benign interaction.

With Rene however, it was a different story. From the outset there were plenty of moments in which it seemed like she was flirting with me, but she knew I had a girlfriend and I knew she was the boss’s daughter, so I was certain I was misinterpreting. It’s funny though, I never once had the same confusion with her sister.

Anyway, Rene was very attractive and the daughter of a millionaire, so I automatically assumed she had a boyfriend. I effectively ignored and dismissed anything that could have been taken as flirtation as friendliness or Rene having a playful personality.

Break up

But then I broke up with my girlfriend. I’d been with my her about 6 years by that point. I remember quite clearly that we broke up January 1st, 2009. New year’s day came in with a crash that year.

I wasn’t massively upset that we’d broken up. It was time for us both to move on. I was the one who effectively called it off, but it was still a big thing to end a 6 year relationship. There’s a whole other story about how things went pear-shaped with that particular ex after we broke up, but I’ll leave that for another time.

Anyway, word got around that I’d broken up with my girlfriend, and suddenly Rene is around the office a lot more. She starts coming over to my desk seemingly at random and talking to me for an hour at a time. I was still under the impression that she had a boyfriend, and she was the boss’s daughter anyway, so I continued to believe this was all just part of the friendly way of the Everlong family. I really never thought anything of it.

I remember thinking how nice Rene was to be so friendly and attentive to me when she often didn’t even need to be at the office. She didn’t work there, after all, she worked at Tim Everlong’s other business way up in the hills, miles and miles away.

Crushing

All this overt friendliness went on for quite some time and somewhere in the middle of it, Laura mentioned that Rene was single and had been for a while. After I found that out, I started to pay more attention to what Rene was doing. It started to register that she might well be flirting with me.

I’d developed a bit of a crush on Rene by this point but like I said earlier, I hate drama, so I had no intention of doing anything about it. Even if Rene was single and actually was interested, I figured she’d be on the hunt for a good looking, wealthy young man closer to her own age. I certainly wasn’t wealthy, I was 7 years older than, and more important that any of that, she was my boss’s daughter and I’d was more interested in keeping this great job than bringing unnecessary drama into my life.

If anything, I was trying to avoid encouraging her. I made sure not to drink at work functions and tried to be as non-flirtatious as possible. Unfortunately though, I have a very cheeky, playful nature, so I don’t know how well I did on that front. I secretly looked forward to the cheeky back and forths I’d have with Rene and I expect that my crush on her did show through despite my best efforts to avoid that.

To be quite honest, I’d also developed a crush on her sister, Laura. This, despite the fact that I knew full well she had a boyfriend. Laura is the sort of girl I always dreamed of being with. She has the rare attribute of elegance, which I find inordinately attractive. As with Rene though, I had no intention of doing anything about it, not only because she was my boss’s daughter, but on top of that she had a boyfriend.

The same line of thinking went for Laura anyway. Even if she happened to end up single, I would have thought her to be well out of my league.

I don’t know who I liked more.

Let me clarify something. When I say I had a crush on both these young women, that’s all I mean. A lot of my colleagues mentioned the same sort of affection for these girls. Frankly, I think it’s just nature. If you’re around attractive members of the gender you’re attracted to, you’re going to end up attracted to them.

If I was around Rene, I found myself attracted to her. When I was around Laura, I was attracted to her. I didn’t stay nights dreaming about sharing a life with either of them. I didn’t even think about them unless they were right there in front of me.

Not to mention, I thought both of these girls were way out of my league. I grew up dirt poor, never got to go to uni and think of myself as pretty average looking. These two girls are the daughters of a millionaire, studied at the best universities around and were absolutely bloody gorgeous. I didn’t see anything coming of my crushes. I just found them both attractive. To me it was a bit like having a crush on a movie starlet, you know nothing’s ever going to happen but that doesn’t change the fact that you like the idea of it.

Jennifer Love Hewitt

I had a crush on Jennifer Love Hewitt too, and thought the chances of anything happening with any of these girls were all about the same.

 

Increased activity

Rene added me on Facebook. Then she started occasionally messaging me, liking my posts, and all that bullshit.

The group of us at Everlong were very social and not long after Rene added me on Facebook, we all went out to dinner. Rene made a point of sitting next to me and chatting with me all night. There were plenty of times I could have sworn she wanted me to lean in and kiss her right there in front of everyone. I was still trying to avoid allowing anything to happen but I was also becoming more and more interested in her.

After breaking up with my ex, I bought a shitty little apartment very near the Everlong building. It was the first and only property I’ve ever owned, and it came with a mortgage which I could handle, but wasn’t particularly comfortable with. Getting my own place was a big deal for me and Rene and I had been talking and joking about it all night at dinner.

After dinner I got up and said goodbye to everyone  but somehow completely missed Rene, so when I got home I sent through a quick message on Facebook to say that it was nice chatting with her.

That Facebook message conversation carried on a fair while. By this point I was pretty sure she was into me and I was sure she was trying to get me to ask her out. Even though I didn’t want any drama, I was struggling with how attracted I was to her, and I’ll cop some drama for something that’s really worthwhile.

Still, I had to tread with caution, so instead of asking her out, I mentioned that it sucked that I didn’t have many friends in the area, knowing full well she lived relatively near by. I wasn’t expecting her to ask me out but I was expecting some sort of remotely positive response. I guess I was testing the waters to see if she would mention that she knows the area and knows a lot of people around there. I was definitely not expecting the conversation to come to a screeching halt, but that’s what happened.

I re-read what I’d said. It was remotely obvious the direction I was going, but there was nothing inappropriate and I’d left her heaps of room to easily to sidestep it if that wasn’t what she was after, but she just flat-out didn’t reply. I received nothing. Bubkus. Zilch. Nada. No response at all.

Done

After about a week with no response I took the silence as an unnecessarily impolite rejection. I remember thinking “well, fuck her, then” and deciding not to waste any time talk to her any more. Like I said earlier, I like things straight-up and clear and lief has enough drama and bullshit of it’s own, so I decided I’d just find another girl.

And that’s what I did. I pretty much completely forgot Rene existed and was out and about seeing different girls and having quite a bit of fun in the process. It’s actually fair to say I was probably having too much fun. I was with a lot of girls in that period of time and none of them were anything other than fuck buddies, really.

I would have been open to more, but I just wasn’t finding that connection I was after and my philosophy is, so long as nobody is getting emotionally hurt, a bit casual sex is a great way to pass some time.

But wait… there’s more

Months later we had another work function. This was one of the big ones with all the staff from both buildings. Rene was there as expected and I avoided her, but she kept coming to sit wherever I was sitting. I’d move away and she’d find me and sit right down beside me and try and get a conversation going.

I was pissed off at her but I figured I shouldn’t be an outright arsehole about it, so I started talking with her politely. Before long we were back to our old cheeky back and forths again and yet again I was sure she was looking at me with that “kiss me” look. With that sort of interaction, I figured I had just misread her lack of response. At the end of the day, it was a facebook message, and who really gives a fuck about Facebook messages?

Still, it was a pretty shitty thing that I was trying to get something happening and she left me hanging. I didn’t know what was happening and I didn’t want to go through that bullshit again, so I decided, if she wants to go out with me, she can ask me out. That way I can’t get in any trouble because I’m not the one being the aggressor.

From that point on, that’s how I played it. I allowed myself to have a crush on her but I wasn’t thinking about her aside from when I’d see her. When she was around I didn’t hide the fact that I was attracted to her but I didn’t ask her out or push for anything in that direction.

Heaven got dark

Remember how I said Everlong was a little slice of heaven on earth? Well, it was when I started but that all changed when they brought in a new project manager for my team. This guy… let’s call him Gus, turned out to be an absolute sociopath. I didn’t realise that at the time though.

I didn’t understand that what he was doing was slowly trying to break my spirit, and the spirit of everyone else in the team. I didn’t recognise that he wasn’t interested in us doing a good job. I didn’t recognise that he was only interested in making himself look good to the owner of the company, so that Tim would give him more power and control over us, and eventually more of the company.

If you want to get a picture of Gus going in your head, think of Gustavo Fring from Breaking Bad…

Yep, he’s just like the guy with the box cutter, minus the murder (as far as I know, though it wouldn’t surprise me).

I also didn’t realise there is a name for what Gus was doing. It’s called workplace bullying and harassment. See, Gus would assign me impossible tasks and then complain that I hadn’t done them well enough. I’m a bit of a perfectionist and I hate falling short of what I’ve been assigned, so sometimes I’d actually manage to achieve the ridiculous things he’d demand, but even when I did, there was no thanks, no credit, no reward. There was just another impossible task lumped on me to achieve.

In addition to that, Gus would make little snide and underhanded remarks. He’d say things like “maybe we need a better developer” after I’d spent a month coming in before everyone else and finishing hours later than I was paid to just to complete some batshit concept he wanted implemented, despite it being obvious to anyone with half a clue how business actually works that it was a bad choice in the first place.

Don’t forget, I was a freelancer for several years. I knew how to run a business and I knew which ideas were worth implementing and which weren’t. Let me tell ya, Gus had no friggin idea what he was doing. He’d manipulated his way into a position of power and he was loving watching us all squirm as he slowly grabbed for more and more control. He’d managed to get our original manager demoted and ostracised. He’d also managed to drive a wedge between the staff at the two buildings, resulting in internal bickering where there’d been very little beforehand.

The impact

After a year of that I was starting to crack. Again, I didn’t realise it at the time, but Gus was doing a lot of the same shit that my stepfather had done to me while I was growing up. It’s horrible. It makes you feel like you’re worthless.

The difference between Gust and my stepfather was, I could always get away from my stepfather or just flat out ignore him, but Gus had control over my income, and by having control over my income, he also had the ability to cut off my ability to pay off my mortgage. Yeah, I know all about unfair dismissal laws but I also knew the bank wouldn’t give two shits about why the money stopped coming in, and that shitty little apartment was all I had. It was so early on in the repayments too, that I wouldn’t have made any money from appreciation and the market was quiet at the time, so I was worried I’d potentially make a loss if I did have to sell up.

After a year of that sort of stress, I was in serious need of a holiday and I scheduled a trip to Europe. Yes, you’re right to think I’d have been better off putting that money in the bank and looking for another job, but when you’ve been under intense stress and pressure for at least a year, logic starts to fail you, and you start to look for ways to ease the never ending discomfort you’re experiencing.

I guess I was so stressed out with all this shit that I completely forgotten Rene existed. I hadn’t been in touch with her for ages but the day I was about to fly out, she sent through this sweet little message wishing me a really fun trip and telling me that she was looking forward to hearing about my adventures when I got back. I thought it was nice but she was the last thing on my mind.

That’s enough for now…

Alrighty… that’s enough for now. I’ll get back to this in Origins #3 when I’ll continue to explain how my boss’s daughter ended up in my bed.

Crazy bitch tip: Be honest with people. It simplifies things.

Letter to the editor #2

2 Jun

We’ve received our second letter to the editor and I have gotta tell you, it’s a doozie! Read on…

Hey How Not To Be A Crazy Bitch,

My mother-in-law is showing signs of serious crazy bitch behaviour.

So my 10-year-old daughter, Jane*, recently got her period for the first time. After a few screams and tears, my wife and I easily calmed Jane down by explaining that this was just another aspect of puberty.

But soon after is when the absurd conduct began: enter one intervening, traditional and adamant mother-in-law (think Marie from Everybody Loves Raymond).

For those unfamiliar with Marie's work.

For those unfamiliar with Marie’s work.

Behind my wife and I’s back, Marie* had fished from the garbage Jane’s first used pad and took it home with her to place in a snap lock bag. My wife discovered the artifact in one of Marie’s jewellery boxes and we soon both began asking questions.

To cut a long story short, it turns out that Marie believes that a girl’s first ‘bleed’ is something that is very sacred and should be retained for her future husband. According to her, if little Jane gives it to her first boyfriend, they will both be forever in love and live a prosperous life. Marie was planning on giving this back to Jane when she enters the dating scene to pass onto her boyfriend for good luck. Never in my life have I heard of such nonsense.

I’ve seen your posts on period-related topics; you seem to be on the same wavelength as me. Any advice in confronting Marie about not forging her unreasonable traditions on our family? I don’t want to cause her any sadness, but I also don’t want to jeopardise my daughter’s future.

Cheers,
Fed Up Son-In-Law

*Names have been changed

Firstly, thank you for the letter Fed Up Son-In Law.

Secondly, um… what the fuck am I meant to say to that? My immediate reaction is “That’s absolutely mental!” but I guess that’s hardly helpful in a situation like this. One key feature of this situation is that you’re dealing with a cultural practice and, as you’re clearly aware, people can be very tied to their cultural heritage and can get extremely upset if you don’t take these practices seriously.

I was pretty taken aback by this specific tradition but it’s a tradition none-the-less and yours and my shared belief that it’s an archaic and disturbing protocol isn’t going to add much additional space between the rock on your left and the hard-place on your right.

Here’s the best solution I can come up with to keep the peace between you and your Cookoo McGoos Mother-in-law:

Throw the original pad in the bin. Do that before anything else. No matter what happens, that thing has to go. Alrighty, now that your daughters blood soaked pad is out of the picture, we can get on to to placating your monster-in-law.

As a just-in-case, grab a clean pad, wipe a bit of tomato sauce on it and crinkle the thing up a bit to make it look used. Smash this period catchment imposter device into a sandwich bag and tell your mother-in-law that you want her to take care of it. Ask her if she’ll keep it in her freezer or something so you never ever have to see it again.

Then you take your family on a short vacation. A weekend road trip will do. When you get back from the road trip, you tell your mother-in-law that something wonderful happened… your daughter met a boy! She’s got her first ever boyfriend! Hooray and whatnot.

Now you tell your mother-in-law that your daughter is going to have a pen-pal relationship with this imaginary lad and she’s so taken with this idea that the bloody-pad will lead to a long and loving relationship, that she wants your mother-in-law to send the item that she honestly believes contains her granddaughter’s first blood (which sounds like a title for a terrible action movie to me) to the boy on her behalf.

Then you provide your mother-in-law the address of someone you strongly dislike and BAM, you’ve hit two birds with one fake period blood carrying, comfortable stone. Just make sure there’s no return sender address on that envelope and you’re scot-free!

Thanks again for the letter. Please don’t take on my suggestions. Maybe just tell your wife that it’s her job to stop her mother ruining your daughter’s life.

If anyone has a better suggestion, please post it in the comments!

 

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