And so it keeps dragging on...

The next several years are okay. I mean there are a couple of incidents I would just love to elaborate on though. When my brother was just a baby...maybe a month or two old. I remember being parked in a parking lot somewhere. Mom is in the car and standing outside drinking a beer is the always illustrious bio-dad. Now he and Mom are having a discussion, about what I have no idea. I was only maybe 2 1/2....so cut me some slack here. Anywho, I remember him flinging the beer bottle over his shoulder into the dumpster behind him (what talent) and then next thing you know he is leaning into the car. Before you can jump, he is just whaling on Mom. He is pushing her back into brother's car seat and he is just crying to beat hell. I remember thinking that I need to get him out and run inside for help....but I am frozen. I can't move. I can't run. I just sit there helpless, listening to the baby cry and Mom is getting beat on. What a wonderful memory! Good times.

And so it continues....

Alright, tonight is short and sweet. My brother is conceived and when dear old Mom is 6 mos along, bio-dad decides to leave with the bleach blond bimbo he is currently screwing. It is just before Christmas. The tree is all decked and the stockings are hung by the chimney with care....and the two year old (me) is crying. Or more accurately pleading...."Please don't go Daddy. Where are you going Daddy? Please don't go!" But a two year old is no match for bio-dad who thinks he is God! And off he goes. I distinctly remember him driving away with a blond.

A few months later and baby brother makes his grand appearance into the world. I am thrilled....or not! After all, what 2 year old can rationalize and understand this small smelly creature who is taking her place. Mom loves to tell the story of how I told her she could take him back. I contest that I didn't like him because he smelled like rotten cheese. She is assuming he just had a dirty diaper at the time. I digress...he was stinky ALL the time. Perhaps I will one day grow to love this creature....my baby brother. I am still waiting for that day to come 30 years later. Shit....that's a long time...I'm thinking it will never come!

And so it starts...

Okay, I have been a bit resistant to this whole thing. I mean do I really need "one more thing." But then I told myself...shit, I need an outlet. I need the whole world to know what it is like being stuck in my head! Because the truth is, it's making me CRAZY!!! I am so frickin sick of the people in my life telling me what to do and who to be. I am tired of trying and consequently failing to live up to every one's expectations! People fucking suck ass. Perhaps I should start at the beginning of my miserable life. I will not be finishing it all today by any means. So I suppose if anyone is out there reading my mindless drivel, they will have to keep coming back. And just to beat you smartasses to the punch...I know I should seek professional help. But then, I didn't ask for your fucking opinion now did I?

I was born and concieved at Fort Hood, Texas. I suppose that makes me an Army Brat. But we moved back home when I was about 6 months old...so not really. My bio-dad aka "The Sperm Donator." was in the motor pool in the Army. (He was a real trip.) He and mom were High School sweethearts...and don't we know how that song goes. But they broke up after he graduated in 1972 and left for the Army. So mom is doing great living life and dating other guys. Low and behold bio-dad is home on leave and has the odasity to get in a car wreck. He is at death's door...and weho comes knockin'? Dear old mom. Great, so they are back together. Mom graduates at the age of 17 in 1974. She spend the summer planning the wedding of the year. She turns 18 on August 31st and on September 7....the say "I DO." It is a rather large crowd of family and friends who see the newlyweds off on life of domestic bliss!!! (If only those poor fuckers knew!!)

So within a couple weeks they have moved down to Texas. My poor 18 year old Mom is miles from home for the first time in her life. She is desparately homesick. Bio-dad is a controlling asshole. NO they can't live on base. NO she can't have a job....he'll work a second one. NO she can't drive the car or basically do anything. But by God dinner better be ready and on the table whenever his ass comes strolling through the door regardless of the hour (which was sometimes midnight.) So I bet you can guess what happened next....that's right....me. I was born Nov. 7, 1975. Mom was in labor for 2 days while bio-dad slept in the waiting room. (It's really important to catch up on your zzz's when you have been out whoring around and poking every pussy that holds still long enough.) Now, I know you're thinking that it was common back then for the men to wait in the waiting room....he was allowed in...he didn't want to.

All is well and good. I come home and God only knows the Hell I witnessed over the next few years. BTW, did I mention that bio-dad really liked to hit? Oh yeah, and Mom was his target. Apparently, her hair was made for his pulling pleasure adn her body was a puching bag. What a winner!! As I said before, we moved back home to Indiana when I was about 6 months old. Since the marriage was SOOOO good (cough,cough) why not bring another baby into the family!! Wow, because that could only make things better! And so, Mom gets knocked up again.

This is where I must leave off tune in for more later, or don't....whatever.