Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death

F'ed-up family

Thursday, June 09, 2005
Get out. I’m shocked. Shocked, I say. Yawn.
Just got off the phone with the detective, and he talked with my aunt. According to him, she acted like she didn't know what he was talking about at first, but then she copped to it when he told her that I said I left a message for them. So she tells them they're going on a family vacation (which they are) and that when they get back, Crackhead will certainly talk to them. He made a note to call them on the 13th.

Mmmhmmmm.
Posted by Broad4:31 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Monday, June 06, 2005
People couldn’t suck any harder if they…
well, I don't know, but I do know they suck pretty hard, and not in a good way. I mean, shit.

First, I call Cingular this morning to find out whether any calls had been made from my cell after June 1, which was when the online bill thingy said. Alas, there were NONE, so unless someone has a real creative way to make nonworking numbers magically appear on caller ID (and can that be done?), SoC was told to cover for Crackhead. And yeah, I suspected from the get-go that that was going to happen, but I guess it sunk in today that man, that's some BULLshit.

So then I tell Mother about it, and she tells me that my cousin called her last night asking all about the break-in. That particular cousin is Timmy's mother and the sister of Cousin the Rich One, and she hasn't spoken to me since Cousin the Rich One and I started our battle -- except, of course, when I called her at the hospital to make sure she and the little guy were Ok -- because I was clearly in the wrong about the whole thing. Even if I was, it didn't have anything to do with her, but you know, whatever, right? So she said to Mother how I was lucky that Crackhead didn't attack me and so on and so forth, and I was like, "Wait a minute. After I worried that she was going to lose her son, she can't call ME to find out how I am!? FUCK. HER," and I told Mother that from here on out, I don't want her talking about me to any one of them, good bad or indifferent.

So to recap, two sides of my family suck hairless worm dick (as opposed to hairy worm dick. I know). Now, allow me to regale you with the continuing saga of DtR
Posted by Broad10:21 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Mac, you done with my new bag, yet?
It's 4:49 a.m., and I just got off the phone with Mother, of all people, because I was pissed and needed to vent. Why? Because my crackhead cousin broke into my crib and stole my purse. While I was in the crib.

I'll let y'all ponder that for a moment.
Posted by Broad7:03 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Monday, April 04, 2005
The philanthropy? Stops here.
You know, I KNEW this was going to happen, and yet I get involved anyway and it ends up being my fault.

Oh yes, the china cabinet sold and it sold for $1,181.56, right? A good, healthy price considering I started the auction at $200 and similar pieces with "Buy It Now" prices of $1,200, $1,500 weren't getting nary a look. I mean, I thought so. I was thrilled that it did so well, in fact.

Crazy Aunt, however, does NOT, and is now upset because she was told the cabinet was worth at least $2,000, EVEN THOUGH this appraisal was never put in writing and she TOLD ME SPECIFICALLY that she wasn't sure the $2,000 appraisal included a table and chair set or not.

You know, it seems to me that when you have absolutely no money and don't seem to be trying very hard to get it, you shouldn't be biting the hand that feeds you. But what do I know?
Posted by Broad4:49 PM
Monday, January 24, 2005
Drugs! Glorious drugs!
Just called the ol' PAP, and it seems my meds were sent out Jan. 17. So I? Should be back and medicated proper by tomorrow! Praise Jeebus. However, would somebody please tell me why, when I go on about something that pisses me off, some jackass thinks it's Ok to ask, "Are you out of your meds again!?!?" What the hell? I take them to keep me out from under the kitchen table with a joystick and a tin foil hat, not because of fucking anger management. They do not wipe out my ability to have an opinion, nor do they prevent me from going off about said opinion from time to time, even if I normally choose to not be a raving loon (100 percent of the time). Fer Chrissake.

Crazy Aunt set me off this time by defending the freakin' BFKAS. See, apparently and without rehashing the whole conversation she and I had, the past can't be changed, and if everyone's to make a new start, we (meaning I) can't keep rehashing it, lest I become bitter and no one will want to be around me anymore. And since BFKAS's idea of letting the past go means not acknowledging it ever happened in the first place ... well, that's the way it is.

Ok, sure, I can appreciate that my little snide comments might be tiresome, especially if her highness isn't throwing them back, which CA swears she's not. And yeah, I know what Dr. Phil says about forgiveness; I've got the books. It just irritates me to hear this when I know that when BFKAS pisses CA off again -- and she will, because she always has -- it'll be perfectly Ok to slag on her again.

But in happier news, besides my meds coming, my inaugural free subscrition of Allure, courtesy of Tara, came in today, and I loves me some beauty mags. Woo.
Posted by Broad11:31 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
You can’t HAN-dle the TRUTH!
Today, Mother decided she was going to get to the bottom of why Cousin the Rich One got her a present and not me, after I told her not to say anything. And of course, I'm the one that's in the wrong, because Cousin the Rich One didn't get an aunt anything, either and that no, she's not going to call to talk to me about it because the phone lines would be on fire, she's just that mad that I would have the gall to be upset about it -- just like I TOLD MOTHER WOULD HAPPEN WHEN I SAID NOT TO SAY ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE. Now? Guess who's been wronged in all of it? That would be Mother, because she just wanted to "know the truth."

Yep. Nothing like taking the joy out of living some days.
Posted by Broad4:29 PM • (0) Trackbacks
It is the job of a good person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of writer and good person coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more writers in the world than there are good people.

100 things
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Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.

Give it to me, baby.

Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...


The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:



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Broad said: Like I said, my feelings are complicated on the matter, so ... I’m interested, however, in Her Highness’ thoughts on… ...[go].

Caterina said: ARGH!!! Not to deny you your goddess-given right of reflections and wishing what might-have-beens, but this guy was straight up… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: By the by, guess who was most nasty about the charitable giving?  The frigging church.  My church and my mom’s… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: By the by, I’m not the only one I know.  I have friends who work at soup kitchens because they’re… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: As you know, I was a voyeur to the beginning of this, and I was loving your comment!  I have… ...[go].

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