66 comments/ 19810 views/ 3 favorites The Grievous Widow By: fanfare This will be the last day of my Husband's abominable life. After six years of a horrible marriage, during which He put me through Hell on Earth. I will finally have the opportunity to put Him out of My misery. Don'tcha love surprises? Two years before, after a string of my Husband's infidelities had brought Our marriage careening to the precipice of divorce. His Father intervened and made it explicitly clear that if Sonny-boy expected to inherit any of Daddy Dearest's fortune. Much less continue being paid His bloated salary from the Family Firm. my Husband would have to sober up and stop His philandering! To my humiliation, i of course had to suffer much of the blame and criticism at Their Family get-togethers. During which, while they were sucking down gallonage of alcoholic beverages, they would loudly denounce my failings as a wife as being the cause of my Husband's frequent inebriation. Oh, and of course, fucking my Husband only a baker's dozen times a week just wasn't up to His masculine requirements. Okay, okay. To be honest is was more often a baker's half-dozen times a week. Even when i was suffering through my menstrual periods, i still had to get Him off. Or else take a smacking. Then have Him force Himself on me. To quote It is my wifely duty to spread 'em or swallow 'em! unquote. .......ahh, the romantic approach by a 'loving' Husband. Big Daddy, being a Big contributor to the Big televangilist church He bullies all His Big Family into attending enmass, arranged marital counseling for Us. My Husband and i were required to attend twice-weekly meetings with a counseling team. Consisting of a Deacon and His wife, who together had attended a weekend Church sponsored training camp for Biblical Marriages. .......I bet you are thinking I made that up. God! I wish! For what little effort was spent in analyzing my Husband's need to wander or hell, even questioning His adolescent libidinous. Much of the time was spent emphasizing how important it was, that i as the dutiful wife, it is my obedience and submission to my Husband that will eventually determine His faithfulness to His vows. .......Let the bitter laughter of experience, ensue. Eventually, my publicly repentant Husband and i, as the stupidly obedient wife, made a solemn reaffirmation of Our marriage vows before Our Pastor, and Our families and Our congregational community and let us not overlook, Our God. Hey now, We're in this huge, crowded, expensively fancy temple to televised sanctimony. We mustn't forget there's suppose to be a deity hanging around here somewhere, to piously consecrate The Pastor's luxuriously theatrical, inerrant lifestyle. Before Our community and a respectable broadcast audience share, my Husband promised. Swore a Sacred Oath! That He would no longer commit infidelities against Our marriage. That He was repentant for His carelessness in infecting me with gonorrhea and chlamydia. When i had timidly questioned Our Pastor and my Father as to why i had to suffer the burden of being rendered barren. They whole-heartedly agreed that it was God's Will and my inherent female sinfulness. That faith healing had failed to repair the ensuing damage from the venereal diseases inflicted upon me. Any better then parsimoniously delayed medical care. Mustn't cause a public scandal that would reflect badly upon Their Family, must We? By seeking medical care in a public hospital. All those embarrassing questions about listing partners and having to fill out Public Health forms. It just wasn't done in Our Circle. It would be publicly disrespecting my Husband. God Forbid! So where in Heaven or in Hell or here on Earth was there any respect for me? And besides, what IS a deeply personal tragedy for myself, was just a trivial matter to the rest of my In-Laws. Since they already had several Sons and grandSons to carry on the Family Name unto the next generation. Yes, there are some daughters but no one bothers about them, unless a man needs another beer. They were just minor bargaining chips, to be used as needed when negotiating with other families to secure the Firm's business interests. i had deluded myself that We could repair Our marriage. As i had trusted that the 'Men' in my life would protect me from physical harm. ........repeat bitter laughter of experience. What a gullible idiot i was to have ever trusted a Man's word! How does that saying go? "Women say what they mean. Men never mean what they say!" i should have taken my lumps and walked away from that failure of manhood. People tried to warn me to keep my Husband on a tight leash. None would admit that the leash was snapped onto the steel collar of matrimony around MY neck. "Trust but Verify!" Great, now i am to take marital advice from a divorced, mediocre actor and union thug, who turned out to be an even more mediocre POTUS. Well, that's what his horoscope revealed to me.......... Oh, and by the way, from whence did these great pearls of wisdom originate? From Comrade Vladimir Lenin. "Doveryai, no proveryai" Surprise! Wonderful! i'm suppose to base my marital fidelity on the proverbial alliterations of a Bolshevik mass murderer! Thanks folks. Thanks all of you, just too, too fucking much! What? You do not have any more words of pompous wisdom to shore up my marriage with? Perhaps from Hitler or Franco or Mussolini? Stalin or Mao? Why not Pol Pot or Khomeini? Or one of Our 'generous', frienemy Saudi Kings or the 'snicker' celibate Popes? Yeah, just as I figured. All I hear is the chirping of anonymous crickets........ This is exactly the sort of behavior to expect from insecure males. Voyeurism being such a male vice. You guys always wanting to compare dicks. Running around playing James Bond. Taking every opportunity to spy on girls and women, while tugging at your little wee-wees. Will men ever grow up? Will they ever learn the self-discipline to control their testosterone driven, hormonally whacked mood swings? "Maturity, Paging Master-Bates! Master-Bates, Please Pick Up The White Courtesy Phone of Adulthood!" chirp.....chirp......chirp
 Now you're all going to go sulk on a barstool with your good buddies. Muttering in your lite beer about how unreasonable we women are. Expecting men to expend any energy for their wives' needs. Much less make any effort to meet the delusional expectations of females that males are capable of living up to the demands of adulthood and all the responsibilities of being husbands and fathers. chirp.....chirp......chirp Early this year, my Father suddenly passed away. Leaving a confusing jumble of multiple conflicting wills, testaments and codicils and no clear direction for assumption of executive authority over the Family Firm. Yet another Plutocratic Tyrant who was Absolute and absolutely certain HE was immortal! A rough sort of soviet of relatives took 'temporary emergency' control. However, what legitimate authority there may be, was beset with corrosive plotting against one another for the succession to dominate the zemstvo. Maneuvering among the power struggles between the uncooperative departmental domains they each jealously controlled. There was not one of them trusted by even a temporary majority of the other managerial relations to ascend to becoming permanent CEO. my Husband tried to bluff His way onto His Father's Chair but the rest of His kin turned on Him and bounced Him back down to that fabled "window seat", His spreading butt had been stuck in for the last few years. Being the manly man He is, my Husband threw a tantrum then sulked Himself into a drunken stupor for a few days in between recklessly driving his super-charged Oldsmobile 442 V-8 muscle car with the poorly engineered, noisomely cacophonic mufflers about the city. He finally realized that nobody was paying attention. That set off another manly drunken tantrum when suddenly it dawned on Him...... "Hey! Nobody is paying attention! I'm getting paid a fat salary to play golf all morning, drink all afternoon while gawping at strippers and then bang interns all night and no one will say boo to Me!" me, myself? i was suddenly flooded with extra work as every damn conspirator expected me to utilize my auditing skills to catch every other intrigant fiddling their department books. Driving me crazy, 'cause they were all guilty of financial shenanigans! When i realized what a snakepit i was trapped in, I made saving My Own Ass, Priority Number ONE. Shielding Myself from the consequences of official investigation by making sure my signature and certification were removed from every incriminating document. There i was, pulling twelve to sixteen hour days to cover-up my knowledge of the endemic corrupt practices by the Family members who were officers of the Firm. i was trapped in a grotesquely Dantean mirror image of 'The Embezzler's Quandary'. i had to be there every possible hour of every possible day to fiddle the books. No light at the end of this tunnel to Hell! Leaving my Husband without adult supervision......stupid, stupid, Stupid! woman i am. The only good news i could take away from this depressing cesspool of familial villainy, was that my Spouse remained trapped in His dead-end 'Window Seat'. Except for padding His expense account, He lacked any means to take advantage of the poor internal cash-flow controls of the Family Firm. None of the Firm's customers or suppliers thought He was even worth bribing or cutting Him in for a share of the kickbacks all His greedy kin demanded. Which means those joint tax returns We sent in each year, were actually reasonably accurate. Again, covering My Butt from the eventual blowback when the SEC, the IRS and the DOJ and all the other regulatory acronyms started unraveling the Firm's financial structure. The first time this year, i walked in on my Husband fucking another female. She was a twenty something Sales Trainee. He snared her at an out-of-town seminar held by a subsidiary of the Family Firm. She didn't look any older then eighteen. On a sudden whim i had traveled to the city where the seminar is being held. Hoping to join my Husband at His hotel as an anniversary surprise........Surprise! i had become concerned that i was working too hard and failing to devote enough time to maintaining my personal relationship with my Husband.........Surprise! For the last two years i have considered the day we reaffirmed our televised vows in church to now be our true wedding anniversary.........Surprise! God, i was an idiot! Surprised? No? .......Sigh.....Guess deep down, i wasn't either. Then two weeks later..... The second time this year, i walked in on my Husband fucking another female. She was an eighteen year-old {I pray!} waitress from the coffee bar/bakery next to the Family Firm offices. Bent over His desk, she didn't look old enough to have a learner's permit.........Surprise! i had gone to His office to talk about some of the strange charges showing up on His credit card bill. 'Teen Slut Escorts' with a long coded list of unspecified services rendered, attached. .......i could not even pretend to be surprised by that. Okay, it's official, i am an idiot. i'm almost blonde, i've a voluptuous figure and i'm a reproductively disfunctional female. Thus i have all the disabilities derided in Our Corporate State as determined by the spite of Our Ruling Caste of fifty-year old drunken frat boys. Just ignore the effort it had taken for me to become a Certified Public Accountant. Everyone else with a penis does. To all you perpetually adolescent males, I am nothing more than a cross between your wet dreams and your sniggering childish dirty jokes. Now, after professional counseling and licensed therapy, I have come to conclusion that, immediately after my Father's funeral, i shoulda, woulda, coulda, used the old fart's death as an opportunity to bail out from that hellspawned Family. Curious people ask me why i did not get a divorce or heck, just run away, two years before when i discovered the damage caused me by my Husbands infidelity. The best I can answer now is, i was raised to honor my sworn commitments. i was surrounded by my Husband's Family and the Firm and the Church. As isolated from the real world as a dog choke-chained in a small fenced backyard. I think 'Despair' is the word I've been looking for. Fortuitously, i did not flee. i was always the hard-working, meek and mild cubicle drone. i never expected that when another, innocent life was at stake, I was capable of becoming a real life heroine. Several weeks after stumbling onto those two most recent blows to my pride. i was at work at the Family Firm when someone mentioned that my Husband had taken that afternoon off. Claiming that He was feeling ill, He had said He was going to go home. Suspicious, I dropped off the receipts i had been auditing, then raced home after Him. Figuring I would catch Him with another of His bimbos. If I could video Him in flagrancy, I might be able to finally pry loose a divorce that wouldn't leave Me a penniless beggar. This time I walked in on my Husband violently attacking a neighbor's nubile daughter, a College freshwoman, undoubtably of eighteen plus years. Dammit! It's bad enough I had to put up with His physical abuse. We were married and according to many commentators, He has proprietary rights over me including the right to physically chastise me for any failure of obedience and obeisance or for my failure to immediately gratify His every infantile whim. Be as that may, it did not give Him the right to assault the neighbors or their 18 year old adolescents. Unless of course they are of a color. Then they are fair game per WASP ruling caste rules. It would turn out that He had lured her into Our home, claiming He was hiring her to babysit Our nonexistent posterity. She looked so young! He liked His victims petite and babyface. In shock, i briefly hesitated at the doorway to His bedroom. He had ripped her t-shirt off and was pawing her bra with one hand. While with His other hand, He struggled against her flailing hands to pull off her shorts. Enough was Too!God!Damned!Much! I decided not to wait until He started raping High School Seniors. I didn't give a flying fuck how entitled He was brought up. To believe that His Tall, Male, White-Anglo-Saxon-Predator Fraternity caste superiority gave Him righteous privilege over us lowly female cattle. Now motivated by a Nemesistic Fury, I quickly went to My bedroom and retrieved from the closet floor safe, a Smith & Wesson Model 40 revolver. A five round, blued steel hammerless .38 Special. Given to me many years ago by My Daddy. I rushed back to his bedroom, double-checking that the pistol was loaded. Praying that after all these years the ammunition was still good. And setting My iphone to video mode. There I found the terrified maiden stripped naked, badly bruised and cowering in a corner as the asshole was trying to drag her back over onto the bed. Holding up My camera phone in one hand and My revolver in the other. I yelled at him, to get him to turn around and face Me. An astonished rage contorted his face as he swiveled towards Me. his ridiculous anonymousie prick sticking out of the fly of his pants. he held out his hands threateningly as he advanced towards Me. In his testosterone hormonal malevolence screaming at Me to get out. "This little slut deserves to be fucked like a whore!" Fearing for My life and the young woman's, {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!} I shot him. I shot him three times. Per the Coroner's report, neatly grouping My bullets left off center of his chest, right through his bituminous heart. Pretty damn good shooting, considering I did it single-handed and it'd been more'n four or five years since I'd last fired this weapon at the Public Range. Luckily, I remembered from several years ago, seeing an X-ray taken of his chest. That's how I knew the actual location of what used to be My husband's heart. And He was always grumbling that i wasn't paying worshipful attention to His magnificence........Surprise! he was a 6 foot 2, 240+ pound male animal threatenly advancing on me and I was in fear for My life and the damozel's safety. {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!} I love to remember that stupid-angry look on his face as I interrupted him attempting to brutalize that undergraduate florescence. Knowing the asshole all too well but never wisely, I am certain his last fleeting thought was "How dare this fat bitch interfere with MY masculine privileges!?!" Somehow I restrained Myself from putting the last two bullets through his groin. But, the coed was already in full blown screaming hysterics and she didn't need to have to carry such a horrible memory around with her. No matter how much pleasure it would have given Me, shredding that pathetic symbol of universal masculine narcissism. I then called 911 for the paramedics while downloading a copy of My little film noir to the Family business's secure data storage facility. Copied to an attorney, a friend of mine last year had given me the phone number for, with a tweet to meet Me at the police station. I told the 911 operator that My husband had suddenly developed a heart condition. Yeah, he doesn't have one anymore..........Surprise! After disconnecting, between My bitter sobbing, I think I giggled at My naughty joke. Next, I called the young woman's home and informed her horrified mother to come be with her. Over the phone, I told her that I had interrupted My husband's violent attack upon her daughter and that I had shot him. Her vernal juvenile is having hysterics and needed her mother to come be with her until the paramedics arrive. She raced over just a few minutes ahead of the arrival of the EMT ambulance. While she was trying to calm her poor daughter down, I called the police. I told them that I had just shot and killed My husband while he was in the act of physically attacking a neighbor's colleen. {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!} The arrival of the paramedics was the occasion of some confused comedy. They wanted to treat the 'heart' patient first. I firmly explained to them the Facts of Life and Death. "That rotten bastard is deceased. If you did somehow miraculously revive him, I'd shoot the asshole dead again! Right now, your priority is to take care of the victim of battery!" Since the insistent crazy woman present was the only one presently waving a very presence loaded pistol around, they decided to go ahead and help the victimized collegiate and her mother out of the room. The two police officers who came bravely charging in, looked pretty damn nervous seeing Me with a revolver in My hand. Standing over the contorted punctured corpse of the "Only Good" husband. ...........I got 'em rolling in the aisles! Could'a of been that weird look on My face that scared them. I was smiling warmly at them with tears streaming down My cheeks. And hiccuping. From all the stress I'd imagine. Courageously, the lead officer stepped forward and accepted the pistol as I carefully handed it over to him. Trying between the hiccing & the uping, to warn him that it still held live rounds. Whilst with My other hand, I completed downloading the video of the aftermath of the shooting to My attorney. A nice feature of the iPhone, it is small enough that useful tasks can be accomplished one handed. I sincerely want to compliment those two policemen for their courage in taking control of a dangerous situation and their professional demeanor taking Me into custody. I never felt ill-treated or disrespected, even when they cuffed Me. And I hate being handcuffed. Abusing me that way was yet another 'Husbandly' prerogative. The Grievous Widow The police investigators would bitch at Me as too why didn't I call them first? I bluntly told them "The young woman needed her mother and medical attention before all else. The asshole was dead and all you have left to do is the fucking paperwork while taking Me into custody!" I did admit that I was willing to go to prison for protecting that nymphet. {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!} Then My friend's recommended attorney arrived and I don't know if she was madder at Me for talking or at the police for listening. Maybe it was all the hiccuping? Sorry. Writing down these sad/happy memories is making Me feel kind of giddy. I find myself alternating between tears of laughter and tears of anger. Perhaps tears of grief for what-could-have-been if I had married a real man? Good luck on That global search! Eventually, I cheerfully pleaded guilty to shooting and killing My parasite. The Grand Jury complimented Me for My steady aim and found Me Not Chargeable on all counts. For a reasonable act of defending another person, the neighbor's daughter and for self-defense while in reasonable fear for My own safety. {That's My story & I'm sticking to it!} It was My good luck, that the District Attorney's office had recently been cleaned out after all the corruption and incompetency left behind by ex-Governor Bush's administration. The Bush leaguers regularly persecuted and sometimes prosecuted women for defending themselves and their posterity, after refusing to protect them against their abusers. The new DA had a backlog of more important cases to investigate and just accepted the Grand Jury's findings instead of overriding them as had occurred regularly during the previous administration. "Bush leaguers" that truism always makes me laugh. What untraceable cash money I had found in My ephemeral-husband's hidden safe, he thought I hadn't known about. Combined with a collection taken up by My family and My friends, covered maybe half the fees and costs for My attorney. She waived the rest of her fee, telling me that all the publicity was bringing in a steady stream of new clients. I relish the black humor of using My deceased husband's own ill-gotten gains to pay my legal defense for committing justifiable homicide against him! Yet his glorious pomposity wasn't competent to steal enough to cover more then a quarter of My legal costs. I'm sorry little boys, did that lack of respect for My encumbranced-husband trigger off another of your monotonously predictable temper tantrums? Tsk, tsk........Now wipe your tears and snotty nose and here let me give you a lollypop. There, all better! The victim's family issued a public statement thanking Me for rescuing their daughter and My consideration of having the mother be with their stricken scion. They still went ahead and sued the dead asshole's estate. Which, seemingly contrary to My own best interests, I did not mind at all. I told the lawyer representing the neighbor family "If you need a sworn statement from Me or want Me to testify as a witness in court or any other way I can help you win compensation from that bastards estate, I will be there for you." I had already provided the family's attorney a copy of My film noir, for whatever use they could make of it. 'film noir'.........I crack Myself up! I could not, I did not. Accept one penny from that asshole's estate. I would rather become a baglady living in a box in an alley, then ever again accept anything that bastard had inherited. Yes, I had taken what had already been stolen, so sue Me for contradicting Myself! The award would wipe out despicable's estate, including the Class A shares of the family firm he had just inherited from his pre-deceased father. Which really pissed off his relations. They were probably already spending the money they thought to now inherit from him.........Surprise! And the loss of that block of voting shares would trigger a shareholder landslide that would eventually wrest control of the firm from the family, for the first time in nearly a century. Since Great-Grandpa-in-outlaw swindled ownership away from the orphaned children of the original founders. MBA classes always discreetly pass over how those children were orphaned in the first place. Mustn't upset potential donors to the University coffers, must we? Go ahead, pretend you're shocked by such pedantically pretentious hypocrisy. After all, the official motto for Western Christian Civilization, is and always has been: "What is Mine, is Mine and what is yours will be Mine, as soon as I have murdered you for it." I refused to accept any share of the estate he left behind. I had My attorney file the necessary disclaimers and post legal notices of non-liability in the newspapers for My deceased husband's debts and obligations. Another bit of luck for Me that, between my rendered-Husband's masculine egotism and His Father's rabidly paternalist domination; the property deeds and mortgages, credit cards and bank loans, every substantial financial transaction, all were in my Husband's name only. Even my paycheck was automatically deposited into my Husband's bank account. He would then give me an allowance as He saw fit. Yeah, yeah, you tell me that isn't possible in a Community Property state. Well, since it is you manly men who are insisting, that must be true. That must be the Absolute Truth. Why? Cause you manly men say so. How do you know a manly man is lying? {Yep, I'm going to go for it!} his mouth is open. If only men were as capable of listening to women as they are talking AT us. They would discover that the majority of women, especially with children, wind up impoverished and socially isolated as a direct result of divorces and abandonment. While the majority of ex-husbands go on to enjoy the financial benefits of their cozy little-male dominated corporate-state social order. Let me use for an example; a family of one husband, one wife, and three children, have one loaf of bread. When the husband leaves he takes half of that loaf of bread with him. The wife retains the other half of the loaf, out of which she has to feed herself and three hungry, growing children. Some asshole judge says, 'That ain't fair!" and insists on dividing the loaf into five portions, one for each member of the family. Now the husband claims he is being cheated cause he worked to buy that loaf. And the judge replies "So you are willing to throw your family onto public welfare, a burden to taxpayers so you can stuff your gut? Depriving the familyYOU created and are YOUR responsibility to support?" I even refused to pay for My dead spouse's funeral, much less arrange such a fakery. Pressed, I made it perfectly clear that if I had to pay for the miserable so 'n so's fare-thee-well, then I damn well would be the only one allowed to speak. I mockingly tossed out a few examples of what I thought would be appropriate comments about the late unlamented. "This jerk is now in a better place. This urn. he earned his urn?" "I could lie about how much We will miss the dearly departed. But honestly, We are here to celebrate that I had Not missed!" "Someone asked me, in a pretentiously shocked voice, 'How could I shoot My own husband?' My deadpan answer was, With all due respect." ..........come on now, that was dead-on hilarious, so what do you want? A cream pie to the schnozzle? "Grief and giggles. People keep insisting, that as the asshole's widow, I should grieve for My loss. Every time people blather that nonsense at Me, I giggle. Trying not to break out in hysterical laughter of relief at finally being free of the bastard." I dunno, for some reason, after hearing my suggestions for the jerk's eulogy, people stopped pestering Me to hold a service. Spoilsports......You can't spell 'funeral' without 'fun'! For all the pompous grumbling among his own family, I noticed none of those hypocrites came forward to assume the burden. As for the sanctimonious gang of saints at Our church, they about broke their legs in their mad scramble to disassociate themselves and their lucrative swindle from this sordid event. Especially once it was clear that the fat titty of contributions they had been suckling at for years, was all dried up. Go figure. Eventually, the few golfing friends and drinking buddies 'hubby dearest' had, chipped in a few bucks each for his cremation and a cheap-ass wake at his favorite cocktail lounge cum titty bar. A nudie bar, the perfect expression of My mortified-husband's life and death. Where funeral rhymes with urinal. Clerical? Hmm, alliterative but not quite enough rhythm. I assume that the fake brass urn of his ashes remains on display behind the bar to this day, 'cause nobody would bother to take him home. Not even the strippers and hookers he had swaggert Our money on. So much for the crocodile tears of tarts. They spurn his urn? This little ditty is shout out to that fraternity of good ol'boy golfing clones of My ex-tracrispy-husband: How shall I love thee? Let Me count the ways. One bullet, Two bullets, Three bullets, Fore! As I had killed him I could not collect his life insurance. His greedy relatives would be shelling out exorbitant lawyer fees for the next decade trying to force the insurance companies to pay them off. Last I heard, they had just had another appeal rejected..........Surprise! What ever made you think that the insurance companies were in the business of benefiting their customers? Having previously worked as a PA for senior Insurance executives, I knew from My own personal experience that the entire industry is run by egotistical slime-balls like My necrotic-husband and his father. Ex-husband? Deceased husband?.......Damn, that brings a smile to My face when I say those two wonderful words. And of course, my job at my In-laws Firm was gone. I am overjoyed to report that all My extra efforts at covering-up My knowledge of the corrupt practices among mys, did pay off. Saving Me from the public scandals that would embroil the Family Firm. {pay off....snark!} The investigators {male of course} treated Me as just another lowly female clerical chattel of no importance to the Firm or of any significance to the criminal prosecutions of the family members involved in their communal financial shenanigans. ......Happy to oblige! An amusing offshoot of this incident is the number of retrogressively self-proclaimed, self-serving, pseudo-conservative organizations and Faux News, who publicly fulminated against My heartless, crazy, femi-nazi assassination of an outstanding businessman, GOOP stalwart and noted financial supporter of right-wing dixiecrat sedition and teapotty nut-jobs. 'Heartless'.....a funny punny honey, no? They're so stupid, they were confusing My deceased husband with his deceased father. As I have nothing better to compliment the discorporealated boy-wonder for. I'll backhand him with this. If he had survived Our mésalliance, to take control of a large percentage of his father's estate. I seriously doubt if he'd have been sharing it with anyone but his bookies, his bartenders and his pimps. Sonny-boy always was a disappointment to his father's treasonous ambitions and that of his father's wanna-be-junta of onepercenter cronies and their Saudi silent partner puppet-masters. 'Slap to forehead'. Now I think of it! Damn, it would have been hilaristurbing to have placed the asshole's ashes in a tea pot. A cracked tea pot. That would have achieved the very essence of ideologically idolatrous irony. 'assholes ashes'.......I should consider a gig at a comedy club. Remember back during the Chilean earthquake and the alarms of possible long-distance tsunamis? The Faux News chatterboxes were parroting about the possible danger to the Hawaiian Islands......while they kept pointing at the Galapagos Islands on the map of the Pacific Rim, projected behind them. Yeah, that fester of anti-journalistic embarrassments. Whining about My claim, that I a female, could have any Second Amendment Rights. What presumption on My part! According to this gaggle of cliched oxymorons, it turns out that Second Amendment Rights are specifically limited to authorizing white males for heroically gunning down Congresswomen and little children and Doctor's in a Church Sanctuary. "Tell me about her family, what does her son/daughter/whatever-it-is do for a living?" "Well, it has been difficult for the family. The poor things were always slow, if you know what I mean. Took them three years to get through sixth grade. She was afraid they would Never leave home. It took a large donation to the University to get them graduated." "I was wondering about that, I had been visiting with my grand-niece at her Sorority initiation ceremony and I saw the spanking new Business Administration building had that family's name on it." "With some discreet string-pulling, their Uncle, who is one of the Rapacious Party Senators, had convinced Faux News to hire them as on-air commentators." "They look very handsome/pretty/impuissant while reporting the news." "Yes, it is a shame about the teleprompter system breaking down. Sitting there. Looking good. With nothing intelligent to say." "According to Rash Limpox and Glenda Peckerwood, it must have been sabotage caused by the U.N. Illuminati Black Ops, ordered by that awful creature in the White House." Finally, for the absolute measure of pious hypocrisy, were the churches {Not just the one I had been required to attend!} that publicly sermonized against my sinful failings in my wifely duty of obedience and submission to my Godly anointed Husband and Master. Now if I had retained enough of the family fortune to purchase the indulgences they privately offered to sell me for my sins, I'm sure I might have been forgiven a homicide or two....million. The tears of lucrative piety, to wash the blood from my hands. There is an ancient joke that goes back to Classical Rome. "If you have the gold, everything within the walls of the Capitol is for sale including the robes of a Senator. If you have enough gold, the Senator is included in those robes." Just swap out 'robes of a Senator' for the 'robes of a television minister' and for two-bits more, you get yourself the evangelist whore inside of them. .........You're actually going to try and pretend surprise? ..........snicker.......You are! ..........Hypocrisy, thy name IS anonymous. I started over with nothing but the charity of my own family and the few remaining loyal friends, who had stood by me throughout this ordeal. They assisted me with a place to stay and what few things I needed to get by on. I was surprised at how few 'things' I actually need to own, to live a comfortable life. I found a new career as a housekeeper and child-care provider for my family and friends. Turns out that loving parents like the idea that their children's caretaker is willing and able to protect their offspring. Proactively....... It almost makes up for my belated-husband infecting me four years ago with the STI's that left my ovaries and uterus so damaged that I will never be able to bear children of my own. Almost...........until I am alone at night and in the dark I weep for the babies I should have borne. Damn men! Damn their slovenly behavior and their bloated egos and their greedy selfishness. As I now look back upon my life. My marriage. My belated-husband. I remember the ocean of tears I have shed over that man. No, that male. he never was a man. As so many of his contemporaries, he was a narcissist trapped in perpetual adolescence. they will never have the courage to outgrow. I now realize that My venal-husband was a product of an abusive, bullying, paranoid, control-freak of a father. Aggravated by the cultural milieu of frat-house induced hyper-sexualized alcoholism and drugs. Adding in the addictive craving for the testosterone driven, hormonal stimulation of mindless, uber-masculine spectator sports that corrupts so much of modern society. Combined with a Corporate State that despises kindness and mercy, community service and social progress. A corporate culture that pays lip service to the concepts of morality and ethics. Then punishes any executive foolish enough to apply those concepts to their business or society. There is a Stalinist era saying appropriate to the Wall Street Mobsters; "When you run with wolves, you need to learn to howl!" Just think about those last few paragraphs. We are like ants trapped in treacle in a society that considers "community service" to be a legal punishment! "Indeed I tremble for my Country when I reflect that God is Just...." Words of wisdom that should be tattooed in reverse on the forehead of every CEO. For them to have to look at Every morning when they are at their 'toilette'. Oh, and before I forget again, that reminds me of another pet peeve. You know how men are always go on about women failing to keep their marriage vows? And how rambunctiously men congratulate each other when they get away with pulling the same pudding? Well I was thinking, why are children required every morning at the beginning of the school day to recite the Pledge of Allegiance? Of course the 'required' answer is to engrain loyalty into them as an autonomic response by insistent repetition. That works reasonably well I guess. It brings up the question of how much Free Will do we really have or are permitted? But that diverts from my idea. That married couples be required to reaffirm their marriage vows every year as part of their anniversary celebration. From memory, no cue cards! Hopefully to have the same effect as reciting the Pledge. And a reminder that if it is just before a small group of family and/or friends or even just the two of you in a private ceremony. As with the Pledge, your Vows are a Sacred Oath! That a married couple who lack the initiative to aspire and to achieve this level of commitment are in need of licensed, professional counseling. And if that fails, then it would be time for both parties to honestly evaluate whether or not they should remain married. Without all the lying and bullshit and sneaking around and emotional blackmail and violent tirades. A quick, clean dissolution and get on with your separate lives before there are children to damage. While the Police Department Desk Sergeant was returning my S&W Model 40 revolver to me. After my attorney and I had filled out and filed all the official paperwork needed to allow this particular 'crazy femi-nazi assassin' to be legally permitted to carry a concealed firearm. He complimented that it was a fine quality, classic weapon. I nodded my head and smiled back at him as I loaded it with fresh cartridges and double-checked the safety was latched, before putting it in the inner side-pocket of My purse. With a couple of quick-loads. Then, looking him straight in the eye, I replied. "My Daddy gave Me this pistol and it has served Me well!" With an admiring look on his grizzled face, the veteran police officer nodded and said. "Very well, indeed!" Thus, another Loving Wife 'fixes' Her marriage. In the same sense that castration 'fixes' a tomcat. {This has been My story & I'm sticking to it!} ................Surprise! Let the chirping commence..................