Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death

F'ed-up family

Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Janie needs a gun …
Just when I thought I wasn't going to have talk about Crackhead anymore, I get this: Her one dealer friend? Wants to shut me up.

Like that?

The story goes that Crackhead said the guy "heard" from his "cop friend on the force in which I live" that I was asking about him, and that if she didn't shut me up, he'd have to "take care of it." Well, she was like, "I don't even talk to her," but she saw to it that I got word. Translation: When I reported the burglary, I told the detective that the reason she was even out here in my area is because she was hanging out with some dude in town. So, the cops probably came to his house looking for her, and he got pissed and bitched at her about it. I mean, seriously, the town force here isn't that big that it would likely even have officers in cahoots with dealers. What the fuck is she talking about?


Nevertheless, this guy allegedly called my uncle/her dad looking for me, so I'm going to talk to my uncle tomorrow and see if he brings it up. If he does, I'm then going to have him call the cops and verify it so I can file a complaint. That way, if I end up dead or beaten within an inch of my life, it'll be less work for them.

Just kidding. Sort of.
Posted by Broad3:42 AM
Monday, July 25, 2005
I know, I know. But Dogdamn it …

Guess who's decided she's not coming back from Kansas City? No, seriously. You get three, and the first two don't count.

When I told her about it, she said I sounded surprised, and I s'pose on one hand, I am, if for nothing else than because she's leaving behind a four year-old daughter. Otherwise, she's worthless, and the family's better off without her.

Meanwhile, the ol' Butterball must have some heavy dream-inducing qualities -- or else I'm just hornier than hell -- because check out THIS dream from this morning: The part that I remember picks up during a party where I'm apparently back together with DtR, and we're both wearing lime green shirts and black pants (in respective gender type, of course, but still, ew, matching). So then, fast forward to the, um, group scene (ahem) with me, DtR and ANOTHER former ex and his ex-wife involving a strap-0n (!?), and then me and him lying in my bed in my old room at my parents house (NO, nothing weird was going on), when ANOTHER ex walks into the room with a magazine and points out a classified ad that hinted around at my involvement in the group scene. At the bottom of the ad was the e-mail and IP for yet ANOTHER ex. And? I was worried that Mother was going to find out about it.
Posted by Broad3:04 PM
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
She gone to Kansas City/Kansas City, here she come
That's where Crackhead is this week. With her boyfriend. Flew out there on Monday -- you know, the day she was supposed to go talk to the detective.

I told my girl over at Bitchbook that if she has any wild drug busts at her place of employ to tell Crackhead I said "Hi!" Whore*.

[UPDATE: Talked to the detective tonight, and he talked to my uncle. I was going to tell y'all the news, but since it hasn't happened yet, let's just say something is fixin' to, and it could possibly be good for my case. I fill y'all in when it happens.]
Posted by Broad8:17 PM
Thursday, July 14, 2005
By the way
Guess who cancelled out on meeting with the detective Tuesday night?

Yeah, that's what I said: "Get out. Imagine my surprise." Just like that, too, and he laughed and agreed. Anyway, he rescheduled her for Monday at 4 p.m.; if she cancels again, he said he's just going to have to go out there and get her, then.

I ask you, does cancelling out on the detective sound like someone who's innocent? Seriously.
Posted by Broad5:47 PM
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Crackhead got lucky again
Took Mother over to Field's today so she could buy something and I could continue replacing my shit, and I went to the Estee Lauder counter to see if they had my lipstick. Well, the girl said "No," and maaaaaaan, that was about the first time I got seriously pissed at ol' Crackhead. I mean, do you know how hard it is to find just the right nude lipstick? Especially for someone who doesn't wear a lot of makeup as it is? Seriously. But they still make it, obviously; I just didn't get any because I still have other things to get. I did replace my wallet today, though, and for $10, too. It's a Fossil, and it's kinda cute. All that's left now is a makeup case (and makeup, of course, but only the essentials), and I'll be back in business. (I got a replacement Palm Vx for $70 off eBay that should be here Monday or Tuesday; thankfully, I didn't lose all my contacts when the software didn't load up right Wednesday.) You know, perhaps Crackhead's bullshit was a way of telling me the juju needed some cleaning out; I mean, I threw some blonde back in my hair for summer, and I'm getting my new bag from Mac in a week or so. Maybe I really needed to spend $300 I still don't really have.

Yeah, I'm optimistic, motherfucker.

In the meantime, I'm on graduation patrol this week, which means I'm covering four high school graduations ... well, five counting today's, and today's was a Catholic school with a graduating class of 187 kids. Anyway, the thing that struck me about this class was that it was really a cohesive unit, moreseo than I'd ever seen or remember from my own days of yore. My class size was no more than 325, so not huge by any standards, but I remember being like, "Feh. Are we DONE yet!?!?" Anyone have a similar experience?
Posted by Broad10:42 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Saturday, June 04, 2005
The Fugue-ees (or, how I miss real ringtones)
Just got back from meeting with the detective about Cousin Crackhead and my missing purse -- had to talk into a microphone thingy and everything. Luckily, I was armed with more information: Crazy Aunt talked to Crackhead's sister (we'll call her "Sister of Crackhead," or SoC), and according to SoC, their parents are saying Crackhead was at home asleep. HowEVER, SoC got a phone call FROM MY CELL PHONE around the ungodly hour in which all this went down*, and when CA told SoC that my Palm was missing, SoC gasped. So now, all I have to do is get a copy of my phone records, and we gots proof that it was in her possession, because I sure as hell wasn't making calls with it. (Not sure how often Cingular updates its Web page, but my account goes up to only June 1 online, and I didn't declare it stolen until June 2 early morning.) Hopefully, SoC will talk to the detective and confirm all this, too -- especially since Crackhead is the reason SoC has a suspended driver's license -- but then there's that ol' saw about the family ties that bind and gag, etc., and she may have been told that she's not allowed to say anything. Still, I'm guessing SoC will want to drop the dime since she's been forced to keep quiet for so long.

In other news, I got a new phone -- bought it at this little dive place on Calumet. I like the style and heft of its flip better, and it's cover is red, which I'm kinda digging. But its ringtones are all beep-beep-boop-boop, and that's a big buzzkill when you've gotten used to "BRAAAAAAAAAAASS Monkey! That funky monkey!" waking your ass up. So I programmed it to play a Fugue, because that had the best comedic value to me.
Posted by Broad10:04 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Monday, April 25, 2005
Sleeping off a good buzz, and I have no family
If you want details, Ogger may feel so inclined to share them, since he and the lovely Mrs. got to hear it all. But I have to get up a 5:30 ayem and may not be around to tell fill y'all in, and I sure as hell don't feel like going over it now.
Posted by Broad3:42 AM
Friday, April 08, 2005
I give up, I swear it this time
Guess who didn't take the offer, even though she's got so much debt, she couldn't pay for a freakin' bankruptcy? Even better? Guess who had to call the buyer and not only refund his entire amount (which of course I would because, I mean, duh) but offer to refund him any expenses he may incur with the truck he had to rent? Thankfully, the buyer was tres understanding and said he shouldn't have to pay for it, but still ... Oh, and why didn't she take the offer? Well, because $1,181. 56 wouldn't even begin to put a dent in the money they're behind. Wouldn't be of aaaaaaany help at all, no sireee. No one can pay anything off with $1,100. Nuh-uhhh, they can't.

(beats head on desk)

Remember when the one guy and I had that big tsunami discussion? In theory, I guess he's right.
Posted by Broad3:45 PM
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Bloody relation, bloody hell
Here's a conversation I'll bet none of y'all have ever had: Telling someone who's been told he's your biological father and actually kind of believes it that he's likely not and even better? He's one of potentially three candidates.

Yeah. Not exactly a topic covered by Emily Post, n'est-ce pas?
Posted by Broad1:33 AM
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
See this little meatball?
This is one of my cousins, and he's in the hospital with a bronchial infection (not RSV or rotovirus, but something pretty darn nasty nonetheless). If y'all could give him whatever healing thoughts or prayers you got, we'd greatly appreciate it.

[UPDATE: Mother called -- seems that Timmy's doing a bit better today, but the infection has now crept into his ear. Still running a bit of a fever, too. Therefore, keep the good thoughts coming.]
Posted by Broad3:11 AM
Monday, March 07, 2005
See if you can detect the pattern
So Tara and I are walking through Target yesterday, and we were talking about the whole Anne Bird/Scott Peterson thingy; she caught it on Matt Lauer, because she thinks Oprah is too "Oprah" anymore. Anyway, she tells me about what Matt covered that Oprah failed to mention when she did her interview: Bird didn't go looking for the Petersons; Jackie Peterson FOUND HER.

Huh. How 'bout that.*

[Clarification: According to the transcript, it was actually another biological brother who found her, not Jackie herself. Don't think it much matters; the outcome's still the same.]
Posted by Broad4:55 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Just when I thought I was out …
Ok, so get this: Crazy Aunt talks to BFKAS this morning, and BFKAS tells her that she went to a Lake Station fish fry and runs into the mayor, right? And the mayor and she make small talk when the mayor says to her that in the latest story I wrote, I misquoted her (the mayor, which is just retarded because nothing I quoted her as saying made her look bad). Well, supposedly BFKAS, knowing the mayor is aware that we're related, says to the mayor, "Excuse me!?!?! I happen to know the reporter personally, and I sincerely doubt she would've misquoted you," to which the mayor promptly shut up.

Now, part of me is like she's making the shit up, but worse? The other part of me is touched, and that was waaaaaaay too easy.
Posted by Broad5:53 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
I’ve lost my mojo
Does anyone have any idea how hard it is to write an invective when you're medicated!?!? I swear to God, I've been here for five days (intermittently, of course), trying to finish my letter to BFKAS, and it's like pulling freakin' teeth.

It never used to be this hard: Up until two years ago, I could write a fuck-off missive like nobody's business. Oh, and they were glorious rantings, too, pages and pages of nothing but heartfelt bile. Ask anyone who's been on the ass-end of my ire -- insane masterpieces, every last one of them.

But now? The words are there, but I'm not feeling that extra ... je ne sais quoi that would really push it over the edge. And then I keep wanting to edit it to make it more concise and pointed instead of vitriolic and mean. Meh.
Posted by Broad9:45 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Friday, February 04, 2005
Our lady peace. Riiiiiight
Have I told y'all lately how cute and lovely Headcase is? Because of her, I now have in my hot little hands a copy of the Almost Famous soundtrack AND Naked Pictures of Famous People by Jon Stewart from my Amazon wishlist. And? It came just in time, despite the fact that one of her wee ones fell ill. Lunch? On me. And speaking of lunch, Tara and Karen, my one boss, took me out to lunch yesterday, a fine feast of faux Mexican from Don Pablo's which I loved immensely and thank you, thank you, thank you! Dining is always a good choice.

It almost took my mind off the fact that, for the sixth year in a row, I didn't receive birthday wishes from a certain member of my biological family. But this year, there was a reason: She has decided she doesn't want to pursue a relationship with me, because she's at peace.
Posted by Broad5:20 PM • (1) Trackbacks
Thursday, January 20, 2005
At least I ain’t the only dweller in this bitch
Get this shit: Cousin the Rich One calls me this morning at 9:15 and starts out with something about she didn't buy everyone at the party a gift and wonkwonkwonkwoooooon ... (I stopped listening at that point, because I wasn't sure if it was going to a be a "Let's-bury-the-hatchet-that-doesn't-necessarily-need-to-be-buried-in-the-first-place-because-this-was-all-blown-waaaaaaay-out-of-proportion" type message, and I didn't feel like dealing with that as I was getting out of bed in the morning if it wasn't).

Good thing I didn't, because according to Mother, she called her right before she called me, complaining about how she told her husband about it finally and he was FURIOUS at me and how it was her party and if she had known that spending so little money on a gift for Mother was going to cause this wonkwonkwonkwoooooon ...

If you think I took the opportunity to remind Mother how badly she stuck it up my ass, you would be right.*

But if I deigned this conversation to be worthy of pursuit with her -- and I don't -- here's my question: If you're sooooo sure you're right -- and you ALWAYS ARE, you know -- why are you just getting around to unloading!?!? My guess? She asked someone, and whoever told her she was wrong, so now she's all, "oh HELL NO!" Nevertheless, it happened in December -- get the hell over it. I did, and I'm the one that was pissed in the first place.
Posted by Broad9:23 PM • (0) Trackbacks
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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
Info meme #1
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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Tagline by Ben F'in Mollin, talking about those times you wake up still drunk from the night before.


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