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Help Me And My Brother Just Got Home From The Movies And My Parents Have Been Shot…Nope That’s Not It…Oh Yeah The Hippies Did It. Part Four

January 2, 2018

Hello my lovelies.  You are going to want to hang on to your Pretoria puke buckets, I think much puking is going to be involved in this portion of our program.  Apparently absolute incredulousness can also make one spontaneously vomit.  You have been warned.

So, The CID decided they had enough to hold what is known as an article 32 hearing which is basically the army version of a grand jury.  Now I kid you not even a little when I say that the army had royally fucked up the crime scene.  if someone had turned loose a herd of free range cattle the result would have been about the same.  That being said, the army  is nothing if not scrupulously thorough about niggly little details that are apt to come back to bite one directly in the ass.  For example, it was a rainy night, like torrentially rainy.  So, the acid is groovy kill the pigs hippies were out wandering in the torrential downpour with a candle and all of them  (don’t forget the extra 3 that were killing the family while Jeffrey MacIhateyousofuckinghardpieceofshit was fighting for his life in the living room did not track one little tiny bit of water or mud into the house.  Nor did they track it in and clean it up cuz guess what?  The army checked for water wipe marks.  There weren’t any.  The article 32 was a bust and he was declared neither guilty or innocent just that there was insufficient evidence to proceed to court martial.

Freddy in the mean time was still on the Jeffrey is innocent band wagon, and then Dick Cavett happened.  Dick Cavett for those of you who didn’t ride dinosaurs to Sunday School was a late night talk show host.

Here is a linky to actual interview on Cavett 

Earlier in the day Freddy had told Jeffrey that he had a magazine that was willing to follow him around for several months and blow the whole thing wide open and Jeffrey asked about how much of his expenses they were willing to pay.  Freddy understandably was somewhat taken aback.   He had also been hounding Jeffy for a copy of he article 32 hearing and Jeffy was saying stupid shit like he’d get court martialed.  Which of course was bullshit, but of all the people on the entire planet Freddy Kassab was probably the last person on earth Jeffrey wanted to have a copy of that hearing.  For very good reason.

Jeffrey MacIamthebiggestcocksuckerthateverlived went on Dick Cavett and he um, exaggerated if by exaggerate you go with outright lied.  He said he had 23 potentially life threatening wounds, he was in intensive care, he had surgery blah blah blah.  Freddy remembers seeing him in the hospital the night it happened sitting up eating dinner with not so much as Mecurochrome on him.  Superficial scratches and a pneumothorax.  PS I hate that word.

Then Freddy got the article 32 transcripts and that my friends is when Freddy Kassab, who had stood before the army and said if he had another daughter he would want he same son in law, discovered that he had made a very grievous error in judgement.  HUGE.   Freddy Kassab was a man of singular purpose.  It had taken him far in life, no matter what he did, his total focus on whatever it was, was truly something to behold.  He first went through the article 32 transcripts and came up with a list of 123 statements that he knew to be outright lies.  Like this shit never, ever happened.  There were more statements that were less than believable at best, like the part where he said he did the dishes.  Both Freddy and Mildred had known Jeffrey since he was fourteen years old and both of them knew they had never seen him do a dish in all that time.

Freddy had a talk with Mildred, one she did not want to hear and promised her that if Jeffrey MacDickintheass had done it, he would not rest until he proved it and justice was done for Colette, Kimmie, and Kristen and baby male fetus.

His next stop was fort brag where he was allowed access to the apartment that had been sealed up for all this time due to the ongoing investigation and was greeted with the bloodstains and smells that never go away of his now long dead family.  He never waivered.  He went through every word Macdiefuckerdie had to say at the article 32 and came out now completely convinced that the son in law he had loved like his own child had slaughtered his daughter and her children.

In the living room in particular he saw the scope of Jeffrey’s lies.  There were some valentines atop a credenza standing up.  Freddy asked if they had been moved or stood back up or anything like that.  When it was confirmed that this was a negative he stamped his feet twice hard and the cards fell down.  Just from stamping his feet.  He proved to the army guys that it would have been impossible to see anything in the light of the living room.  Hair color, skin color, hell he couldn’t tell which CID officer was which in that light.

At the end of the walk through they asked Freddy if he was satisfied.  He said he was.  I’m satisfied that my son in law murdered my daughter and her children.  They explained to him that it was going to be an uphill battle to which Freddy Kassab, who was an extraordinary man told them he planned to live a long life and he had the patience of Job.  Turned out both were true.

Tomorrow tune in for blood evidence, crazy odds, and a pyjama top that just would not go away.

Reallybigmeandog peacing the fuck out.

PS keep the puke buckets handy.

 

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I Got Carjacked By A Black Man And My Kids Are In The Car…Goddammit way wrong trial. The Hippies Did It Part 3

January 1, 2018

Hai my lovelies.  We are at that titular moment where your queen must ask that you go get out your Pretoria puke buckets because shit is about to get mad real.  I have barf bags for anyone who has misplaced their Pretoria puke bucket.

So when we left Dr Fuckface he was dyyyyyyying and the MP’s and EMS had arrived.  Now they had multiple dead and the aforementioned dyyyyyying not a doctor MacDonald to deal with.  So they basically trampled the crime scene into oblivion.  Some fuckhead stood a flowerpot up,  someone lifted MacDouchebags wallet, and eleventy billion footprints went in and out of the house.  It was not what one would call a pristinely kept crime scene.

Shit I forgot a weapon.  Bad queen, bad, bad queen.  There was also a Geneva forge steak knife that was impaled in Colette’s chest.  It is important because one of the first spontaneous utterances from MacDiemotherfuckerdie was tell the MP’s I pulled the knife out of her chest cuz guess what finger prints were about to appear on the Geneva Forge steak knife…I’ll wait.  Machowisthisfuckerstillalive’s finger prints that’s whose.  Five points for Griphendore.  Anyway, stupid actually did give himself a omg I’m going to have to spell that again fuck it he collapsed his lung.  That was pretty much the extent of his injuries.  a collapsed lung which was self inflicted and a hair brush booboo.

Colette suffered two broken in several places arms, She was stabbed `16 times with a knife,  21 not 14 like I erroneously said yesterday icepick puncture wounds, and a whole bunch of blue fibres underneath the body that was already dead when MacAsshole got there.  Hmmm. Odd. Colette was pregnant with a 5 month old fetus of male gender.  And in the words of Forrest Gump that is all I have to say about that.    Then there was the word PIG (cue helter skelter) written on the headboard of the bed with a whole bunch of blue fibres scattered at the bottom of where the word was written.  Strange that.  These blue fibres just seem to be in all kinds of places that they should not be.  Maybe the hippies did it.  Except that they didn’t. These pesky fibres seemed to be showing up in the oddest places.  Both children’s rooms, under the blankets in the children’s rooms, on Colette, under Colette.  And wood splinters.  Lots of wood splinters in very strange places.  Now poor little Jeffy was at the hospital and Mr. and Mrs. Kasaab, who happened to really love Jeff went to see him at the hospital and my only thinking here is that they were so grief stricken that they were willing to believe anything at this point.  Anything that would explain the slaughter of their entire family.

MacGofuckyourselfwithapineapple fell asleep in the living room and it was there that he was awakened by someone thumping him with a club.  Then he heard his entire family screaming simultaneously which puts at least three more people in an army issue housing unit so that’s seven and him being a green beret and all had to save his family.  somehow and this is important it will be on the test, somehow got his pyjama top pulled up over his head and wrapped around his arms.  He used it to ward off blows from some kind of blade and the next thing he knew he woke up in the hallway.  The pyjama top was still wrapped around his wrists at this point, torn, shredded and he took it off as he went into the bedroom.

Wanna know where they didn’t find any blue fibres or wood splinters?….I’ll wait…THE LIVING ROOM where Jeffrey MacDiebitchdie was in the middle of a life and death struggle with not one, not two, not three but four hippies high on acid.  Acid is groovy kill the pigs.  Oh PUHLEASE.  It was that statement right there that convinced me he did it.  that one single statement.

So now Jeffy has regained consciousness  and he ran a marathon with his mortal (puke buckets would now be appropriate) wounds. He called for help,  He ran to check Colette, he gave her artificial respiration which just came out in bloody bubbles on her chest, he ran to check his own wounds, he checked both children, he looked out back (oddly enough that is where all the murder weapons were found) and he called for help again.  Under two minutes he performed all those acts in.  Look out Hussein Bolt.

The CID figured out pretty fast that Macyougointojailbitch did it.  It was pretty simple math.  It was proving it and they made a huge, gigantic mess out of that.  So much so that Macyouaresogoingtobechangingthatbabiesdiapersinhellforever almost got away with it.

They brought him in for questioning and pointed out he obvious, that they had seen all night poker parties that had caused more damage than the damage in the living room where a struggle between four acid fueled hippies and one green beret took place.

Freddy Kasaab was at first MacDidImentionIwouldlikeyoutodie his staunchest supporter.  Funny thing that.  It would be Freddy Kasaab who truly loved Jeffrey at that point in time that would be MacMygodyouareapieceofshit’s biggest supporter.  Want to know what is even funnier.  It would be Freddy’s single mindedness in finding the killers that brought him to a realization that probably cut him at least as deeply as the death of his precious Colette and her babies.  Jeffrey MacDonald did it.  Freddy Kasaab spent the next several years making sure he paid for it.

Let’s tune in tomorrow and find out what Freddy did.

RBMD peacing the fuck out


The Screwdriver Wielding Skateboard Gang…Fuck, Sorry Wrong Trial Again. The Hippies Did It Part Two

December 31, 2017

Hai my lovelies.  Let us get back to the philandering, misogynistic, reprehensible human type hominid, piece of shit known as Jeffrey MacDonald

   What can I say, it seemed appropriate, although on a side note, I own a shirt that says surely not EVERYBODY was kung fu fighting.  I believe that is probably correct.

So, where were we?  Oh yeah boxing trip to Russia that never existed.  Anyway I’m gonna guess that is the proverbial straw although it could have been anything.  Maybe mama got tired of having two baby kids and one grown kid to fetch and carry for every single day, maybe she knew he was fucking anything that would stand still long enough for him to get his penis into, maybe she was pissed at his spending habits, maybe she was sick of being over ridden on every single nit picky thing.  Maybe all of them, but the experts all agree on one thing.  Colette likely landed the first blow in this battle royale.  He was brought into the ER with an abrasion on his temple which was surmised during the recreation of the crime scene to have probably come from a hair brush.  Bad choice of weapon.  So, now that superman I can do what I want when I want make us some drinks, i’m inviting the neighbours over, I have to go to Russia fuckface has been challenged and that my friends did not go over well in his psychotic and likely high on a wack of speed little brain.  (he was not tested for speed but joe McGuiness found some notes about it when going through macdonalds stuff, about how long it would take to metabolize and clear the bloodstream.  Anyway Jeffy Macfuckface came back with a piece of lumber which happened to be handy and rang Colette’s bell with it.  She bled profusely onto macdonalds pajama top before she grabbed the pocket and ripped it off.  remember that it will be on the test.

Kimmie, hearing the commotion came into mommy and daddys room and caught one in the head as MacDonald hauled up for another whack at Colette.  Kimmies skull was severely fractured and her cast off was found on the wall and in large quantities on the floor in the master bedroom.  About this time MacFuckface figured out he was well and truly fucked.  Pretty hard to explain you were just mad so you tried to beat your wife to death with a piece of timber.  He picked up Kimmie, put her back in her room and tucked her in, along with about of a dozen of the threads from his pyjama top that he supposedly did not have on according to the story he told later.  That was when he remembered good old burning in hell right now Charlie Manson and decided he better make some shit up.  the hippies did it seemed plausible so he went with that.  Now he was going to need an epic struggle with multiple assailants so he was going to need multiple weapons.  an old hickory knife and an icepick along with the club.  Colette had come to by this point and on instinct she tried to protect her cubs.  Machurryupanddiealready beat his soon to be dead wife furiously with the club as she lay across her child trying to protect her.  She likely died in that room.  Her blood spatter, brain matter and cast off were all found in the childs room.  He wrapped her up in some bedding and carried her very pregnant body back to the master, threw his pyjama top over her and then proceeded to icepick her 14 times.  Kimmie who was already dead from the crushed skull was attacked with the knife as well, and then the monster, this…thing went into his living baby child’s room, lay her across his lap and stabbed her to death.  She knew who killed her.  The daddy she loved so very much was the one inflicting all the pain she suffered before she died.  Had he been even slightly human he would have hit her femoral artery first, let her bleed out and then stabbed her after.  Much more humane.  At least in my opinion.  I mean he was a doctor, there are ways to do things and it still could look like the hippies did it.  Anyway, now he needed to stage a crime scene in the living room where he was supposedly attacked.  Jeffrey Macdonald is an idiot.  If you are staging a crime scene where a life and death struggle is supposedly taking place you fucking throw yourself around the room, you don’t just flip over a coffee table and prop it up with a copy of esquire prominently displayed with the articles about Mansons hippies in it.  Of course the neighbours might have become alarmed and we couldn’t have that.

Next Dr. Not a Doctor anymore fucker went into the bathroom, grabbed a scalpel which it has been surmised he hid under a floorboard and poked a hole between a couple of ribs.   Sadly he went to deep and nicked his lung and ended up with a pneumothorax for his trouble although it didn’t really go sideways till he was all tucked in at the hospital where in the immortal words of Freddy Kasaab, Colette’s step father “what wounds, he didn’t even have mecurachrome on him when we saw him”  True story.

He then staggered (barf) to a phone and begged for help(double barf). The MPS and ems showed up and totally fucked up the crime scene which is what made this trial drag on until the second coming of Christ.

Tomorrow, what happened at the hospital and how many fucking trials can one person possibly have.

RBMD peacing the fuck out.


The Ninja’s…Sorry Wrong Trial, The Hippies Did It

December 30, 2017

 

 

 

 

Hai!  I’m baaack.  So today I’m blowing the dust off of the green beret killer AKA Jeffrey MacFuckface AKA Jeffrey MacDonald AKA Murdering bastard, AKA…okay I have to stop there are a lot of AKA’s

Jeffrey MacDonald was a doctor and a green beret and a misogynist and a serial philanderer. Seriously dude wore more hats than I do and I’m everybody.

His particular psychopathy fascinates me because he is a family annihilator by definition, except he didn’t run which is what they usually do.  Unfortunately for him and fortunately for the rest of the female population of earth, he thought he was smarter than the army, the cid, the police, the lawyers, including his, as well as everyone else he ever came across.  I’ve never met him so I have no idea if he thinks he is smarter than me.  I’m guessing he does.

He married his wife Colette because of course they were playing Russian roulette with a gun full of bullets so to speak, or you can take the other theory because I actually support both, Colette, fearful of losing him to he extremely spectacularly gorgeous ex got herself knocked up.  That doesn’t give him a free pass to kill her.  Over achiever Jeffrey would hear no talk of abortions or adoption.  Nope they were getting married and that was that.  Except that the night before his wedding he left a parcel in the exes car.  Lingerie in their university colors.  Awwww, sqweeee.

So, they got married, he went to med school, joined the green berets because that is what everyone that wants to strangle you with piano wire does (no there was no piano wire involved but only because the fucker didn’t have a piano I promise) Then he volunteered for jump training which I thought meant parachute training.  It does but it also means jump training as in, I’ll jump this girl, you jump that one, so he fucked around on Colette again.  

Just so we are all clear, this fucker makes me look positively normal.  There are lists of psychoses and I have a bunch.  He has almost all of them.  Except schizophrenia and bi-polar disorder.  He was also a speed freak which probably didn’t help matters much.

Colette spit out two kids during two very high risk pregnancies and then she got knocked up with baby number three and that is when the scenery that had been so carefully colored in began to crumble.

Jeffrey expected his heavily pregnant wife to wait on him hand and foot and then he announced he would be going to Russia (read going to ex girlfriends house) for at least a month right before her due date.  That would probably be the moment Colette flipped her shit although to her credit she held it in for a while.

This is going to be voluminous so be prepared.  This was the one that got me hooked and it is my point of reference for family annihilators.

And tomorrow, because I have a hand cramp like a mother fucker right now we will find out exactly what happened.

RBMD peacing the fuck out

 

 

 


I Am Dusting Off An Oldie But Such A Goody. Let’s Get The Crime Juices Flowing Again.

December 29, 2017

Hai my lovelies, tis me, your dean of fuckery, doctor of Doctoring, pretend Judge, honorary DVM, Dog Lactation Consultant, Horse Therapist, Author of the big book of words, owner of one in house psychic and of course Queen of all I survey.

Today’s blog is brought to you by Paul Bunyan the reason for which will become abundantly clear in a bit.

This family had some issues.  They had an uncle mixed up with the Gambino’s, a kid in the navy and a son in university.  On the outside, they looked like the perfect all American family, the family other families wanted to be.

On November 15 2004, Peter Porco was found dead of massive head injuries.  He had been attacked with an axe.  Axe murders are fun.  Messy, but fun.  Know what else is fun. Zombies.  Peter Porco had been hit 16 times in the head with the sharp edge of an axe.  Even so, that fucker decided that dead was not something he wanted to be and in the morning he got up, seemingly completely unaware that most of his head was missing, brushed his teeth, went and made a sack lunch, went out to get the morning paper, locked himself out and remembered where the key was hidden under the flower pot and let himself back in.  He eventually dropped from massive blood loss and expired on his kitchen floor.  Let’s do science, science is fun.  The top part of Peters brain which controls speech, thought etc was the part that was severely damaged.  the paleocortex, located underneath the neocortex was intact.  This is what controls primal instincts and second nature habits.  He performed the same tasks he performed every morning.

Now peter was a court clerk and when he didn’t show up for work someone  was dispatched to his home where whoever was sent got to see what they had had for breakfast the second time.

Frankie the fireman Porco was the dude hooked up with the Gambino’s and it was originally thought this was a mob retaliation hit.  This was quickly discarded and they moved on to another suspect.  The youngest son, Christopher Porco.

Christopher Porco is a piece of shit.  Let’s just get that right out there.  a stupid piece of shit, because the alarm had been disarmed by someone who knew the code which was only four people and one was on a navy ship far, far away , that pesky hidden key was found in the door (granted, Porco Sr could have left the key in the lock, I mean dude was basically running on fumes at this point.)

Chris had another itty bitty problem.  Moms was still somehow alive and her first statement, when asked if she knew who did it, she indicated her son had done it.  Once she started to recover she recanted her nod of the head but the police were positive she had admitted it the first time because she assumed she was dying.

So, let’s get back to the piece of shit.  Christopher Porco was a manipulative , lying, money grubbing swindling asshole.  He had staged a break in a couple of years earlier and stolen computers which he sold on ebay.  This would come back to bite him on he ass.  Hard.

He forged his parents signatures on bank loans and was caught.  His father threatened him with the cops if it ever happened again.  He was flunking out of college and he was pretending to be some rich fuck whose largess included pizza parties for entire dorms, things like that.

The motive was money obviously.  They had a lot of life insurance.  Like, a lot.

Christopher Porco was a good looking kid and he manipulated the ladies quite easily.  He went so far so big were his balls to ask the daughter of the investigator on the case to steal back the computer he had sold a couple of years earlier and that the cops had tracked down.

Chris at one point worked at a vet clinic and was very adept at cleaning up blood.  Let me tell you, an axe murder is gonna spray blood like everywhere.  walls, ceilings and clothing.  No clothing with blood was ever recovered and his jeep even though they took it apart right down to the last bolt gave up not one drop of blood.

I have a theory.  Chris killed his parents, showered, changed into the clean clothes he had brought with him and his bloody clothing are somewhere in a body of water.  It’s what I would do.  No blood to drip in the jeep and no bloody clothes.

Many people were behind him at first.  His house of cards came tumbling down once the women he was using started talking to each other and when that fucking computer was found.

There was so much family conflict that nobody knew about but was discovered through evil, angry emails sent back and forth between Chris and Zombie Porco.

He was arrested and arraigned and his mother was the star witness and the reason he got bail.  She swore her son had not done this and was angry that the police had decided to question her while she was so grievously injured that when they went to put he oxygen mask on they couldn’t decide exactly where her mouth was.

The lack of forensic evidence was daunting and annoying because the cops were sure he did it.

It was not until they started digging into the emails and stuff that the real dynamics of the family came out.  They were a family in deep crisis.

then the police received an interesting letter from anonymous saying he’d done it and he was gonna do it again.  The best theory is that Chris sent it.

Frankie the fireman was in jail at the time so his alibi was pretty tight.

He was finally tried and convicted, mom or no mom for the murder of his father and attempted murder of his parents.

It took forever, but they finally found enough evidence to convict the little entitled money grubbing bastard.

Dude, an axe?  really?  I really, really hate my parents and I would have never smashed them with an axe.

It was a difficult trial, but they got him and probably a good thing because the whole town had pretty much turned on him by then having seen how he was acting.  His favorite line to a bevy of girls, was you’re my girl to whichever one could help him at the time.  One girls mom worked for a newspaper and was talked into an article basically calling the police inept.  One like I said was asked to steal a computer out of the evidence locker.  One was for money.  Chris Porco is a piece of shit.

He got 50 years.  Not enough.  Not nearly enough.  A fucking axe.  What is he a Viking?  Jesus H Christ on a cracker.

So there is the story of Chris Porco, piece of shit extraordinaire.  Sadly for him that life insurance money never came through.

PS  I need to proofread more often

RBMD peacing the fuck out

 

 


The State Of The Shelter Address

December 24, 2017

Hello my lovelies, it is your most loyal queen here for the annual Christmas eve State of The Shelter Address.

It has certainly been one for the books, and will be.  What with the cheeto in chief trying to start a war, earth falling apart, new animals on the extinction list, more working poor than ever before, and the spin on fucking EVERYTHING trump related would make Linda Blairs head come clean off.

I myself have had a very up and down year as have many of you.  It is weird, in a good way how often our tribulations are similar.  It’s good that way because the sister and brotherhood of the lets save all the unwanted animals from evil doers, can always help each other.

The best thing about 2017 is that 2018 has GOT to be better.  I think we may have hit rock bottom as a species, as a planet, as our little particle of dust in the universe.  Rock. Fucking. Bottom.  Unless of course they really do release a zombie virus to weed out all the old, sick and poor, which at this point I don’t even remotely believe doesn’t exist.  Either that or an actual real purge will become an annual event.  That also would not shock me.

Bunker is real and ready by the way.  The rich can suck it if they think I’m going down without a very serious fight.

The thing I find more amusing than any other thing is math.  They are called the 1 percenters for a reason.  So, either no one can do math or we are all just too chicken shit to say fuck this noise enough already.  I’m not buying your shit, I don’t need that shiny thing whatever it may be.  You’d be amazed at how fast the one percent became a no percent if we started to do shit like that.

My son broke his hand this week.  And due to our evil socialist medical system it cost 20 dollars to get him x-rayed and casted.  God, our medical system sucks.  One of my American friends told me you are all one serious accident away from bankruptcy and that is sad.  except for the one percent who really don’t have a fuck to give.

I hope you are all as well as you can be in your respective situations.  I am okay all things being relative.

I wish peace and happiness to all of you this holiday season and a new year that is better than the old one.

RBMD peacing the fuck out


It’s Actually Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

December 19, 2017

Hello my lovelies.  It’s me, back already.  Please don’t pass out from shock.  Your dean of fuckery, doctor of doctoring, honorary DVM, pretend Judge, Fixer of all briefs that need to be re-written, dog lactation consultant, horse therapist, resident sarcasm expert and Queen of all I survey.  The pageant for “Queen of the universe is coming up so please cast your votes early.  Even if you have to ride a horse that really isn’t feeling it to do so.

Spoiler alert this video has nothing to do with anything I just thought it was funny so I used it.

I have heard from Mama who is well, just dealing with some of her own stuff.  Nothing bad I promise, she’s just busy.

So since it is already the 19th of what is usually my most despised month of the year coming up to what is usually my most despised day of the year, I decided I would just nip that shit in the bud and let you all know that I am actually looking forward to Christmas.  If anyone has smelling salts please pass them to renae, mama and basset because I know they have all just collectively fainted.

I have been doing this blog for a long time.  We have covered a lot of things, survived a lot of things and thrived from a lot of things.  We have had each others backs, we have gone to war for anyone of us that needed a war party on the quick and we love each other.  To me, that means more than anything.  I want each of you to know that while my road is still so, so fucking long, you have helped me travel a distance and you’ve walked beside me just in case I stumbled so you’d be there to grab me and I am aware and I am so grateful to you all.

I am in a good headspace this year.  Not great but not he horrific depressions I have been falling into as of late. Depression is really the gift that keeps on giving.  It gives heartache to the people that love you and have no idea how to help you, it gives actual physical pain, it gives to the point where you just want to say fuck it what is the point.  I’ve been there, I’ve done that and what keeps me going just in case you didn’t know is the fact that I am not alone, that you all understand and that eventually I know, even if it just way down the  pit of the blackness that it will get better.  I know things are getting better because I have discovered a few things that set off the depression and have figured out how to shut them right the fuck down before they even get started.  Sometimes, I’m not so lucky.  I am sorry to you all I have been so absent this year, it has been one for the books.

This year my son turns 17.  Two days before Christmas my baby turns 17.  He has his license test scheduled for the 2nd of January and nobody on earth is looking more forward to that day than me.  See, I hate driving.  It is part of the agoraphobia, but it is also to do with an accident my drunk mother had with me in the car.  I have never been a huge fan, and the older I get the more I hate it.  the day I get to say, can you please go to the store and pick up some bread will be an awesome day.  First because I don’t have to go and second because I can afford bread.  Remember when I didn’t know where the fuck our next meal was coming from?  Seems like yesterday.  you guys saved me then too, and I will not ever forget what you did for a mother in the throws of the worst portion of her life and her son to make sure that we did not freeze to death or starve.  I am still humbled by it.

Once my pension came through and I figured out how to budget the pittance they gave me we were able to make a terrible situation tolerable.  Tolerable is much better than can you please donate money so we don’t freeze to death.

The no kill shelter has come a long way.  Members that were at least as messed up as me have blossomed which makes me so damn happy, and even myself who was, I thought, completely and irreparably broken have made some progress.  I can now stand to be downstairs instead of locked behind the front door lock, the lock to the upstairs room and the lock on my office door.  So I have eliminated 2 locks.  Of course it helped immensely when my imaginary psychiatrist informed me that having several imaginary large and very vicious dogs would probably help in the event that someone was to break in .  They are by the way only vicious if they feel that I am being threatened.  Oher than that they are watchful but harmless.  My imaginary dog Hutchinson especially takes his job as a sacred duty and he would without hesitation take a bullet for me, which is good cuz I worry about bullets. A lot. Still.

Imaginary starsky is as loyal as Hutchy bear but her loyalty is to the boy first and I would not have it any other way.  Out of all the imaginary dogs, it is surprisingly Panzer that one needs to be the most concerned with because that bitch don’t play.  You fuck with her family and you are going to be as dead as she can possibly make you.

The day my imaginary Psychiatrist hooked me up with horse therapy was probably one of the most fortuitous days I have had in a very, very long time.  It took me days to finally get up the courage to go to the farm, even though my doc assured me that the farmer had been fully briefed that I could not be in large crowds, could not feel like I was in anyway trapped and that I was very experienced with horses and if he told me what he wanted and left me alone he’d probably be a very happy guy.  He is one of he kindest and most understanding imaginary people I have ever met.  I know he wasn’t sure of me at first because I was terrified to be around him.  Seems however, the second he saw I was not terrified of the animals I was handling he was fine.  I have become the keeper of his prize stallion who is according to the barn staff only really happy when I am there, I have brought some animals I thought were beyond help back from whatever hell they were reliving over and over in their minds, I have birthed a foal, and I have had the sheer joy of being back around horses.  Something I truly love and that gives me tremendous amounts of pleasure.    sometimes the farm owner finds me quite vexing and he yells at me.  Mostly because he is old and very set in his ways and I am much younger and up on he latest techniques in equine care.  Like when I name them.  they come in with numbers.  Nobody should be horse 2425 or whatever.  So they all have names.  Unfortunately, I refer to them by their names and nobody has a fucking clue of what I speak.   First he got mad and told me to stop doing it, and then Charlie happened.  He has softened on the whole name thing since then and he has even taken the time out of a crazy schedule to learn a lot of them.  That is huge.  Instead of saying bring in 1497 he says bring in Molly.  The first time he did it I almost wept. Everyone deserves a name.

I still cannot go out in public, even with my son I am as apt to have a panic attack as not although I will say that my son has learned to deal with them with surgical precision.  Get me out of the area that is causing me distress, find somewhere quiet and talk me down which he manages to do about 80 percent of the time.  I still cannot do things like attempt public transportation or take a taxi because I do not know the driver or go to the bank or anything like that, but look how far I have come.  There are still so many things I cannot do, but I am so proud at the huge amounts of progress I have made.  thanks in huge part to you guys with all of your encouragement.

Bug found a bunch of imaginary kittens that someone dumped out on the road as is the circle of life around here and I of course would not have them starved or run over or eaten by the explosion of  imaginary coyotes we’ve had so they sort of live with us.  They come in at night and get something to eat and then go out during the day although when I look through the window they never go far.

He came home from school a week ago to discover that I had strung lights, put out the decorations that we have, put a jiggly collar on our imaginary dog Rocket and had eggnog waiting for him and he lost his shit.  The smile is one I will not forget ever.  I got the biggest hug and a thank you mom and I know how hard you are trying which is quite simply everything.

I got the by drivers ed, which took a huge amount of  scrimping to save up for it.  Fuck me sideways  that shit is expensive, but I will apparently save it in insurance since he will be on as an occasional driver.  It will make it so my insurance does not go so high I can’t afford it.  It was worth the sacrifice.

I have decided that because of his age it is time to start getting him ready for when he flies the nest, so his Christmas and birthday have been about things he will use for the next several years.  A futon, a new bed, a really good set of headphones, a coffee maker, a down duvet, bedding, a few clothes and of course a few fun things, a PlayStation pass card for the year, Assasins creed origins, some cd’s, a bunch of movies he’s been wanting and something I think is special, the outsiders and rumble fish, both the books and the movies.  There are lessons there and he is nothing if not a deep thinker.

I have been making cookies, and my plan is cheesecake and some butter tarts as well as Grandma’s shortbread to put out for Christmas day.

It has been an amazing yeas of ups and downs, but mostly ups.   Except for Trump.  Big, big down.

My offer stands of a safe nuclear free zone.  Bring your imaginary horses, imaginary dogs, imaginary alpaca’s if that is your thing.  Like I said, make spouses will have to take a test to gain entry.

So there you have it.  My year in a nutshell.  I am trying to find things that actually interest me to write about so I will be back more frequently.

Thank you all again for sticking with this really big mean dog and for helping me through some amazingly tough times.  I am doing my best to pay it forward as I am able.

Each and every one of you are part of my life and my heart and I love you all as much as you love me.

Peace and love to each and every one of you

RBMD peacing the fuck out.

 

 


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