An' Can Ye No' Hear It?
EAT SHIT AND DIE, MOTHERFUCKERS! I typed this aloready and you
TOOK IT AWAY111111111111111111111111111111111111
EAT SHIT AND DIE, MOTHERFUCKERS! I typed this aloready and you
TOOK IT AWAY111111111111111111111111111111111111
Wesley Brian Dunlap died 2/22/2021. Multiple organ failure. I am utterly bereft. I do not ever expect to find such another man. There may be someone else out there somewhere that can appreciate my love, principles, and ethics, and forgive my faults as I forgive theirs. I will try to resolve or agree to disagree. Prolly ain't go'n' happen. When one is at the far end of several bell curves, one learns their insignificance to the norm.
Brent is acting like (or is he really?) a complete meany. He judges and judges me less than I am. Just like his mom did. And his stupid mean brother. They are BLACK and I am lesser, guilty by complexion, paleskin. guilty by complexion. Wait...Isn't that the definition of racism?
No matter what attitude I offer, thoughts I offer, or what I do, it will never be sufficient to earn again his love. He has none. He's shut down in a cold, hard judgmental shell. I don't know him anymore. His upbringing taught him to put on all the necessary social politenesses. He's absolutely astute at pretending to like it. What Brent actually likes other than chicken, brown rice, and dried mango is unknown. Any joy offered to him is refused. And I am his wif*. *INO. He has not, as far as I know, which admittedly is not much, or does not, love anyone not in the long past. Who didn't love him as I do/did. If someone looks at you like you're a cockroach, it's hard to keep loving them.
I still have a dozen cuddly rats. I wouldn't mind being down a few. Anyone wanting a cuddly female rat, please write me. They are virgins, raised with sisters, and very shoulder-oriented.
Next. Joy. I am going to visit my mother. She lives n Tucson. I haven't seen her in 13 yrs. She's 80 now, and slowing down a bit. Ooh, we gonna have fun. Our definition of fun is ours. Pbphlbbbt. We will be there for the Gem and mineral show. My main aim is to hang out with Mom. Second aim is to keep Bri interested (not bored). I'm well aware that what I find fascinating, he (poor soul) finds disgusting.
I am bereft. Jamie died April before last. No dog. Camille died in June. Bellegrove died last week. All old age complications.
like to have two or three cats, and Belgrove is not young. So I'm thinking of fostering with an eye to keeping two kittens. Youngish things won't be territorial or threaten BG.
I miss Camille, but Belgrove is lovely.
Le chat Camille est mort. Her small intestine suddenly did badly. If it was lymphoma, her condition by the time She let me find her and find pro care for her may have meant death from anaesthesia. The vets and I discussed it. The outcome did not look good. Her death was kind and merciful.
I can discuss death very calmly and rationally. Then, yes hang up the phone and cry and howl. Veterinarians and their assistants don't need people howling at them. Retreat to your bed, and howl into your comforter. Get cake and ice cream. or a big burger. Eat home grown tomatoes from the vines. Howl more. My husband had to haul me indoors when Utah Phillips went.