January 29, 2015 · 9:29 pm
I hate to be absent for so long, and then post a post like the following will be, but it must be done. The fury can no longer be contained.
So, does anyone else that is helping to raise a child that is not their own ever want to karate-chop said child in the fucking throat at times? To quote Sam Smith, “I know I’m not the only one.”
It may be said that, these days, I lack the infinite patience I once boasted because my inner ribcage is being used as a practice boxing ring for my future UFC son. But I do not think the following is EVER acceptable coming from any twelve-year-old:
“You don’t do ANYTHING except work. You don’t help with the dog; you don’t do the dishes; and you only pay dad $300 in “rent” every month. He basically has to do everything else.”
Perhaps the correct response would have been to not respond at all to this blatantly incorrect statement, and to address the attitude behind it, but you know what? I’M NOT FUCKING DEALING WITH THIS SHIT TODAY.
Instead of voicing the thoughts roiling through my head that went something like this- Listen, you spoiled little preteen cuntbitch, I did the dishes more times than you did this week, I pay $400 for half the house payment, as well as half the utilities and food to feed your shitty big mouth, and how do you figure working all the time isn’t doing anything, you stupid little cocksucker?!- I did the unmentionable. I took the laundry I washed yesterday that I supposedly “never do”, and threw everything that was hers at her and said, “Here. Since I don’t ever do anything around here, you can fold your own fucking clothes.”
Trust- it irks me to no end that my Rockstar finds the whole situation amusing. I do not expect him to argue with her incorrect informations, because she is twelve, and too immature to be arguing with in the first place, but I DO expect him to address her shitty hooplehead attitude. Maybe he is the one I need to cunt-punch.
I am perfectly aware this post is nothing but a ridiculous rant of almost-stepmomdom, but since I can’t poke her eyes out with excessive force and scream to the heavens my frustration, I have to just type it out and inwardly whine, “Please just let me diiiiiiiiieeeeeee.” Even thought I have no intentions of expiring anytime soon.
Filed under Children, Family, Humor, Life, Uncategorized
Tagged as child-rearing, Children, frustration, life, musings, pregnancy, rants, relationships, stepkids
December 11, 2014 · 9:44 pm
Greg observed his own face in his bathroom mirror, and squinted his eyes in a furious glare at the reflection. He gripped either side of the pedestal sink to keep from putting his fist through the glass, and watched his own jaw clench and unclench. He was a fucking coward, and the fact made him completely livid. He pushed himself away from the sink in disgust and flipped the light switch too forcefully on his way out of the room.
Casey had just left, and Greg’s pulse was still pounding with the left-over desire she’d dumped on him. Just the remembrance of her on her knees in front of him in his own kitchen brought another surge of lust through his body, and he flopped down angrily on his worn-out couch. His longing was interrupted by a wince of pain when he felt the springs dig into his back, and he cursed inwardly.
He tried to collect his thoughts, but the feelings left over from Casey’s visit made his brain a chaotic jumble. He took a deep breath and adjusted his crotch, forbidding his dick to erect itself at every thought of her.
Since he’d fucked her in her apartment, he and Casey had made love on several other occasions. Greg snorted at the thought. “Made love” was not what it had been at all; more like, animalistic, savage, licentious fucking. It didn’t matter that Casey looked like a completely innocent, albeit sexy-as-hell school teacher- the feelings she evoked from Greg were baser than anything he’d ever felt. When he wasn’t fucking her, he wanted to be, and when he was, it was like he’d scored a handful of X at a rave; every time was like the height of his existence, but the after effects made him feel like complete shit.
He ran his hands down the sides of his face and let out a exasperated breath. She didn’t want anything else from him. The idea was like a shot to the chest with an electric jolt. He knew it was completely ridiculous that she would want anything serious from him, given the huge gap in their ages, but he just wanted to get to know her. He knew exactly what her excited cunt felt like to his fingers, and he knew how glorious it felt to have her near-perfect lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew next to nothing about her, and it bugged the shit out of him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to find out, but she kept her distance, and even after she’d come quivering to orgasm, she maintained her independent attitude.
Greg’s anger was at himself, for not forcing her to open up, or at least for not being able to control his incredible lust enough to turn her down. Casey was clearly emotionally damaged; he’d never met a woman who was able to separated sex from feelings, but she did exactly that. He knew that continuing their liaisons as they was not the way to heal that damage- he felt proud of himself that, as a man, even he knew that. He was also aware of the fact that Casey perhaps was not looking for someone to take care of her hurts, but Greg couldn’t help it. He wanted to. Her beautiful face and her buoyant persona made him want to fix it. The problem was, with her luscious tits and gorgeous ass, he kept forgetting that.
Filed under Beauty, fiction, Life, Love, Sex, short story, Uncategorized
Tagged as damaged people, feelings, fiction, frustration, musings, relationships, sex, short story, writing