The Scarlet Letter

Let me tell you a tale about what happens when someone falls off the stupid tree and lands in such a manner as to cram their head square up their sphincter.

There are so many things a person can do that make everyone stop and stare in confusion and amazement at the wonder of the sheer absurdity of their actions. Right now, one in particular…er I guess 2, stick out like a well quite frankly like a hooker in a high class establishment. Although hookers get paid … just sayin’.

Its a funny thing about small towns.  Townies think they’re untouchable.  They think they have a God given right to act like they’re better than everyone else.  News flash, decades of family members never venturing out of a 6 block by 11 block middle of nowhere village does not produce top breeding quality.  It produces wide child bearing hips and kids with buck teeth *cough*inbreeding*cough*.

I was born in a small town and I like the small town life, until that is, I have to deal with THAT sort of townie.  Here’s the thing.  I don’t give a fuck who you think you or what horse you rode in are, I’m NOT the person to start a war with.  No one is untouchable and thinking you’re entitled only makes you look like a stupid cunt.

So back to absurd actions…aside from the entire concept of delusions of grandeur…well, I’ll just say it flat out.  Fucking another woman’s husband is a BAD IDEA.  Fucking MY husband in particular…a WORSE idea.

When you watch a mess like that unravel no matter how close or far you are from the core of it, its like seeing not one train but stacks and stacks of trains wreck into one another and topple every which way as they spill off the tracks.  I wanna quote songs left and right cuz we had a blast on FB the other day posting the videos of all the songs we could think of that refer to this sort of stupidity and whorish actions.  I will try to refrain from too much of it.

When you cheat.  It gets out.  There is NO such thing as an affair that no one ever finds out about.  Someone always slips, gets psycho, changes their mind, or confides in the wrong person.  Uhm this situation that I watched unravel over the last few weeks…gets a big check check check and check on all those points.  Long story short, once upon a time a girl (me) THOUGHT she had a friend and entrusted her friend with her emotions and feelings about her and her husband drifting apart.  Said “friend” turned out to be a skeevy homewrecker with an inability to  keep her pussy glued shut and her hands off other people’s man meat.  Oh, and have I mentioned, she’s married.  Yeah.  Klassy with a capital K.  That’s right, I said K, not C.  Get with it.

Well, sluts are sluts at any age and guys are stupid and think with their little heads, mainly cuz well…guys suck.  Skeevy bitch + marriage in trouble + mediocre sex with said skeevy bitch = short term affair.  Like all that’s not stupid enough, there’s 2 things that people never think about before they do something like this.

1.  What do you REALLY know about the person who you’re crossing.  People let you know what they want you to know about them.  The secrets that lie beneath,are what create the core fabric of who those people are, and unless you know how tightly threaded they are and if there are holes or if they’re made of kevlar and spikes … you really should choose who you go to battle with very cautiously.

Some people have no problem in a situation like this, putting it out there for the world to know that the affair happened.  And that’s what happened here.  The wife (cough*me*cough) finds out, and BAM the whole town knows, the whole internet knows, literally by name…who, what, where, and when.  In a town of less than a thousand people, news like that spreads like wide fire and that’s just what I wanted…especially because the skeever (yes its a word…er is now)  has a rep for this shit already.

Remember, we’re talking about a townie whore.  That means lots of family and long time friends now know what’s happened.  The chick actually had the balls to ask the me to apologize for letting everyone know what happened.  Really?  Are you out of your shit spreadin’, corn shuckin’, cousin kissin’ mind?!?!  How, in ANY WAY, is what happened, or it getting out, something I should have to apologize for?  Simple truth is, if you dont want it to get out, don’t do it.  If it gets out, you have no one to blame but yourself for spreadin’ your hoo-ha like I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.  Yeah!  FUCK THAT!

Here’s how it really went down.  I lost a baby.  I dealt with it.  My husband…yeah not so much.  I got knocked the fuck up again 3 months later and baddah bing baddah boom here’s a baby boy.  The man child sleeps…uhm…never.  I get up always.  Husband has a high risk job so of course the stay at home wife takes over night wakings to keep her hubby safe at work.  What happens then…PPD otherwise known as “I had a fucking baby and my happy hormones went BUH BYE” depression.  So I am no longer “me” and his shit blows up with his ex and guess who he normally turns to…uhm not the girl I was at the time.  X+y to the 3rd pile of shit = separation.

Waiting for the happy ending?  So am I.  But lets be real…as every day passes I realize more and more that the happy ending is no more real than the dream I had of the perfect baby girl I lost 2+years ago…fucking pipe dream.  Beautiful in the moment but when you rub your eyes and sit up … yeah.  Reality sets in.

So what happens now … he wants me back.  But that is a story for another day.  Hang tight.  Its a wild ride right now and you’re in the thick with me.  More to come … tomorrow 😉



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