Losin' the weight!

Bikini season is right around the corner, folks, and it's time to lose those Winter pounds! A few of the girls at the office have had success with Alli, so I've been giving that a whirl. Unfortunately you can't eat badly on this stuff because it turns your food's fat content into a heavy orange grease. This nasty stuff ends up leaking out right of you like liquid gold!

I've had to resort to wearing adult diapers everywhere. It's not easy because they fill up quick, so instead of sexy love handles I've got a soggy diaper muffin-topping over the waist of my low-rise jeans. And try flushing one of those babies down! It turns even the most powerful toilet into a Bangkok stew pot. But at least I get to eat what I like!

Of course I'm still trying to cut back and be sensible. Instead of ordering a Triple Whopper from Burger King I've decided to settle on the Double. That's a savings of over 250 calories! Or instead of a tasty Big Mac, I just ask for two Big Mac Wraps. Low carbs means more yummy meat for me!

I've also been forced to stop buying snacks for the kids. Those tasty single-serving packs just tempt me too much! I always catch myself eating up their Lunchables, or polishing off a whole box of Fruit Roll-ups. The cupboard is so empty that I've had to give them my Dexatrims to bring for their snack at school.

I'm also encouraging my hubby Phil to shed a few pounds. But I'm not nagging the poor man; I'm using modern behavioural training techniques. When I catch him eating fattening foods I'll sneak up and perform a "Cup and Serve". Simply put, I fart quietly into my own hand, "cupping" the gas, then open my palm to "serve" it in Phil's face. It always succeeds in putting him off his food!

And yes, I've cheated a little! I've gorged on the occasional bucket of chicken here or there. But I always make up for it by getting my next lunch at Subway. I'd eat there more, but it's not very appetizing. Their employees tend to forget that the food safety gloves exist to protect our food, not just to protect their hands from money, trash, and cold cut juice.

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Blessed day!

My sweet doggie Muffin has been found! One of my peoples down in Southside called me up and said she saw Muffin with some dudes I used to mess around with. The bad news is that these guys are into dog fighting. I didn't know if I should be more afraid for Muffin or those other dogs!

The majority of Richmond's stray or stolen dogs end up in the hands of dog fighting kennels. Most of them are used as simple bait in fight training. But there are exceptions, such as my incorrigible Muffin. Take one look at him and you know he was born to fight, because he bites people who look at him. It does seem like fun, but that sport is too dirty for my baby!

I rolled down there last night in the Caliber to bring him back home. Kinda sketchy, I know, but these guys know better than to fuck with me. I sent one of their cousins to the hospital a while back. About a month after it happened he told people that he still has nightmares of me coming up behind him in the dark with that broken bottle. What a punk!

So I get to the spot, which is out on a dirt road, and there's already cars all over the place. Getting to the pit was no problem because they had that same cousin in charge of "security". I got back there just in time to collect Muffin before his next fight. A few people tried to say something until I turned my head and shot them a look. Then shit got real quiet, except for one nervous sounding fart.

I led Muffin back out front and put him in the car. I scolded him for running away and getting into this mess. He just huffed and laid down in the back seat. I felt so lucky to have him back, and I figured since I was already there I might as well ride the streak and place a bet on the next fight. This was a wise notion, because I won $50! Muffin's getting some new booties!

My babies hongry!

I came home last night around 11:30pm, drunk as a skunk, to discover that my damn kids were still up and running around the house. They said they hadn't had any dinner, and they'd gotten into my case of Red Bulls from Costco and made a big mess of it. The babysitter wasn't even there. He'd left a note about needing to bail his girlfriend out of jail.

My comfy bed was calling to me, but I knew my kids needed some food in their stomachs or they'd never get to sleep and they'd be impossible to wake up in the morning. I also had a pretty good case of the beer munchies. The only thing open was the Wendy's drive-thru, so I drove us over real quick and pulled up to the speaker. The lady came on and I ordered myself a combo.

Of course my kids were so hopped up on caffeine that they couldn't think straight and didn't know what they wanted. I heard one of them say, "Happy Meal!" and I said, "No baby, this is Wendy's, they got a kids meal...". A truck pulled up behind us in the line. I don't think he had his high-beams on, but his headlights were still shooting right through the back window of our car, which I can't stand.

I continued to try to get an order out of my kids. "Jailen, you want some apple slices? How 'bout some chicken nuggets baby? Do y'all think Orenthal would like a Jr Bacon?" (I'd left the baby at home 'cause his car seat is a pain in the ass). I looked back and three more cars were lined up. I decided to just order whatever, and of course the kids started to bitch and cry but by that point I didn't care.

I drove up to the window to pay, and unfortunately I'd forgotten to bring the purse that I keep Phil's credit cards in. All I had was my back-up card which has a bad strip, so the lady had to run it several times before manually typing it in. Then she handed me our dranks and a bag.

She said, "I'm still working on getting your Double with pickles and three Frosties, so please pull ahead to the door up on your left and we'll get those right out to you." I said "Naw.". For a minute she just stared at me while I sat there. "Ma'am, please pull ahead so we can keep the line moving". I replied, "No, that's okay, just do your best".

The cashier sighed and slammed the window shut. She came back three minutes later and handed us our stuff. Then she shut the door again and stared at me while I inventoried our bags to make sure we got everything. Well I'm sorry, but I've been burned before by these late-night losers.

Just then the guy from the truck behind us got out and came up to the window between my car and the drive-thru window. He banged on the window and yelled something at the cashier. I wasn't sure how to let this guy know how rude that was so I decided to just drive off while he had his ass pressed up against my car. I heard him swear as I took off, and me and the kids had a good laugh.

I pulled around and parked behind a large van near the entrance where I could watch the guy leave without him seeing me. The kids were whining for their food but I told them to wait because nobody's allowed to eat in my car but me! The guy pulled around and we followed him all the way down to the highway ramp. That's when I speed-dialed the police and reported him as a drunk driver. It took us another ten minutes to drive home from there, and by then the kids were fast asleep in the back seat. Screw it, more nuggets for me!

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Muffin gone wild!

Poor Muffin! He doesn't get out much, and doesn't get much exercise. I also think that spending all his time alone in our tiny backyard (behind a 7-foot privacy fence) has driven him a little bit crazy! Honestly, he hasn't been looking right lately:



So a few days ago, on an unseasonably warm morning, I loaded him into the car and drove down to Richmond's beautiful "Fan District", because it's such a lovely place to take a stroll. It felt really good, with Muffin trotting along merrily while I power walked in my cute shorty shorts and Winnie the Pooh hoodie.

There are only a few businesses peppered throughout this neighborhood, including a small real estate office. As we strolled by it Muffin came to a dead stop and began motioning towards the office door. That stubborn dog wouldn't let me pull him another inch! I walked back to try to drag him out of his stance, but he growled real low and wouldn't budge.

He started scratching at the base of the door and groaning, so I decided to just let him in to find out what he wanted so bad. As soon as the door was breached Muffin shoved his way through, dragging me behind. He was sniffing all over the floor like a maniac! A few agents were sitting inside at their dark wood desk, probably wondering what the hell we were doing.

They found out soon enough, as he crouched down on their beautiful hand-woven wool rug and took a massive liquid shit. He then took two dainty steps, kicked his hind legs a few times towards the mess, and walked back outside. All I could say was, "Sorry, he's been sick!" as we both high-tailed it out of there. Muffin and I ran down the side alley and up a few blocks to avoid further scrutiny.

Now that Muffin had taken care of business he became more difficult to walk. He was yanking me all over the place, but I held my arm tight and pretended like we were still just out for a leisurely walk. We passed a bench by a bus stop and there was a nice looking old black gentleman sitting there. He stared at Muffin like it was the devil or something! He didn't even notice my cute shorts!

As I passed I said, "Good Morning!" in a sing-song voice. He didn't say a word, he just kept staring. I didn't want him to think that there was anything to be afraid of so I walked Muffin closer to him and said, "What's the matter? Don't you know how to say good morning?!". After about ten seconds he finally looked up at me and mumbled, "OH, good morning, good morning..". I just shrugged and we went on our way.

As we headed down another cobblestone alley a small white cat darted out from under a fence around the end of the alley. Muffin couldn't resist! He yanked me so hard that the bathrobe belt I'd been using as a leash came loose from his neck! I followed him down the side street but it was too late. What sucks is that he wasn't even wearing his collar or tags! I hope he finds his way home soon because there's a big bag of dog food here that's gonna go to waste!

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More money saving tips!

I've gotten so many emails thanking me for my original list of money saving tips for single moms. Of course no thanks is necessary. We girls have got to stick together! Some of those who've contacted me have received a few bonus tips in response, and I'd now like to share those tips with the rest of you. If we all stay on track then we might just make it out of this Obama recession!

I'm a frugal drinker, as y'all know. So when I finish an expensive bottle of wine I don't just throw the bottle in the recycling bin. That's wasteful! Instead I break the neck of the bottle. Then I return it to the store and tell the clerk that it broke when I tried to open it. In most cases they'll give me a replacement bottle free of charge. You just have to remember to rotate which shops you go to, and make sure that they carry your brand.

Flowers are another easily returnable item. Phil is always buying them to keep himself out of the doghouse. After about a week I bring them back to the shop and demand some new healthy ones. I'll argue if necessary, but not for long. If the clerks continue to refuse I'll simply dump the dead stems and dirty flower water on their feet and leave. Their manager will hook me up later when I explain how their employee slapped the vase out of my hands.

Another big waste of our good money is birth control, like that silly NuvoRing. It doesn't really matter what you use as long as it's sure to kill sperm. Usually a dusting of cocaine on the gentleman's penis will do. But lacking that, I go with a scrunchy soaked in bug spray. Talk about a warming sensation! Maybe your fool boyfriend will complain that his dick doesn't work for a week after. Tell him that you're just that good!

Of course the cost of these luxury items aren't your only concern. There are other necessary expenses, like the large sums you're forced to spend on your loved ones. Who needs it? I've recently discovered that simply denying to further support my mother has caused her to be transferred from that crappy nursing home to an even crappier state-run facility. Now my monthly "Mom" costs have dropped down to $0. Why doesn't everyone do this?

I took this little maneuver a step further. I pretended that my kids live with my mother instead of me. Once the school calculated her (lack of) income they decided to give my kids free lunch cards. Some of the teachers have even started buying my kids clothes and winter jackets. The savings are so significant, sometimes I'd swear I was made of money!

Speaking of schools, I've gotta mention school fundraisers. They're just a great way collect quick cash after normal business hours. The catalogs and other materials are easy to get your hands on, and your kids don't need to know any better. It's all about "charity", so don't sweat it. None of your neighbors are actually expecting your kid to come through with that $30 can of spicy peanuts, or that $12 roll of Christmas wrapping paper. If they come around asking just convince them that your kid messed up the order because he has mild autism or something.

Mistress of the hunt!

I've always loved the wilderness! Of course the beach is still my favorite vacation spot, but I also try to set aside a week each year to spend in beautiful Western Colorado. The cool dry air, fresh clean waters, and uneven population ratio of women to men suit me just fine!

My last trip to Colorado started with the usual day of travel that I always dread. To make matters worse, I worked a half day before the flight. It happened to be the day of our office chili cook off contest! I had to sneak into the conference room before I left to steal a few large gulps of all six chili varieties. I don't think the last two had a chance to really cook all the meat! My stomach was churning!

As you can imagine, my fellow first class passengers didn't appreciate my sickening chili farty pants none too much. My body is a finely tuned instrument, but on that afternoon I was playing a symphony of sour notes! But don't get me wrong; I didn't waste good money on First Class tickets! I booked Phil and I in separate seats, then I asked the clerk at our terminal to find us two seats that were together, and he gave us last two seats up front. Thanks again, Terry!

After landing in Albuquerque (and driving three more hours by car) we made it to our rental cabin. But this was no cabin like I've ever seen! This was a big beautiful wood house in a neighborhood of nice homes, nestled in a nice woodsy area! What could be more perfect? I was so excited that I ran straight into the backyard to set up a nice deer blind!

A Deer Blind is basically a couple big pieces of plywood with a small hole cut out of the middle for your gun to go through. Then the whole thing is painted like branches and leaves. It's an ideal set-up for poaching deer in a neighborhood like this, where the animals have never been hunted. Talk about easy meat! With my butchering skills and Phil's taxidermy abilities, we actually made some money on that vacation!

Fishing is another favorite pastime of mine, and Colorado's rainbow trout is as plentiful as it's Fat Tire beer is overrated. Experts like me will tell you to catch your fish with care, and release them back for the benefit of future generations. Then we show up later to catch and keep those same big healthy fish using large nets and minimal effort! They don't call us "the experts" for nothing!

After a week of these activities I always feel relaxed, but also a little worn out. That's why Phil and I spent our last day at the nearby hot springs resort. After drinking some local beer (which seems stronger at those higher altitudes!) we relaxed and fingered each other in almost every hot tub on the premises. I don't know what the secret is, but those healing mineral hot spring waters do wonders for my syphilitic sores, and somehow shrink my hemorrhoids down a little!

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Gay for a day!

I don't know what the problem is, but I haven't been getting as much attention from men lately. Just last Friday I had to sneak an empty beer bottle out of Bahama Joe's so I'd have something to fuck in the parking lot. I told one of my girlfriends at work about this problem and she told me that I should forget about men for a while and just have fun.

She invited me to come along with her friends to a local bar which is known for its popularity in the lesbian scene. I agreed to go, but I really didn't care about hanging out with her or her friends. I just wanted to see how many lesbian heads I could turn with my hot body! I felt confident that the women there would validate me by making me feel sexy again.

As soon as we got inside I ditched my companions. I leaned up to the crowded bar and ordered a shot. Over the course of an hour about three different ladies offered to buy me drinks. I refused most of them because I only seemed to be attracting the rougher looking gals. Was that a good thing? I didn't know. So I rejoined my coworkers and helped them empty a couple pitchers of beer.

Then I noticed a pretty young thing back towards the far end of the bar. She was a little bit chunky and had a cute pixie haircut that was longer on the front. She came up and whispered in my ear and before I knew it we were meeting in the ladies room. At this point I was boozy enough to try anything, and she insisted on going down on me. I'm not sure how experienced she was, because she had this confusing neck tattoo that said "Trust No Man...Fear No Bitch".

So I'm standing there with my pants down and my eyes shut when she starts screaming like a crazy woman! She was all pissed off because I didn't warn her about my tampon. Well how the hell was I supposed to know?! I'd never done that before! No man ever complained about it! By the time I got back from the bathroom she had already stormed out of the bar!

I decided to forget her and just focus on having fun. That was what I should have done to begin with! I was dancing and laughing and all these different girls kept dancing with me and buying me more drinks. The night didn't end until I attempted to bust a move and ended up slipping and falling flat on my face! I got a big red bruise on my head and it even bled a little. My friend got me home. At least I think it was her. I don't honestly remember.

I did the logical thing and called the place up the next day. I threatened to sue the owner if she didn't settle with me out of court. She called my bluff and refused to pay me anything. She must have guessed that the lawyers I'd called beforehand wouldn't take my case. Now my head is all fucked up and my coworker and I are banned from this really fun bar. Take it from me: the "gay lifestyle" isn't as easy as it looks!

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Runnin' thangs!

My office's director and his district manager have both been fired from our company following a very slow year. While the bigwigs at corporate headquarters decide where to take things next, they've left everything in our branch office up to me. Some folks in my position might go with a "business as usual" approach. Fortunately I'm ambitious enough to realize that this is an opportunity to prove myself and get promoted!

Profits are down, sales are down, and the workload is slow. Our prices are competitive, so I'm not sure what's wrong. What I'd like to do is boost our sales. Unfortunately I know nothing about sales! So I've decided to cut operating costs, which will force me to squeeze maximum productivity out of the few employees who remain. But that's not as easy as it sounds! In fact, it's become a rather depressing game of "divide and conquer"!

I began by drawing out a big chart. I wrote down everyone's name and drew lines connecting who was friends with who, who takes lunches together, and who chats around the coffeemaker. I put a red mark by anyone who I think may have been part of last year's failed unionizing effort. I also made notes on the chart about popularity, niceness, and physical attractiveness.

Then I started managing people out of their jobs. I wrote folks up for every single 30-second tardy. I documented every website they visited that wasn't work-related. I monitored their calls, and rummaged through their desks. I even sent a few people in for "random" drug tests. After only three weeks I'd fired one person out of every identified friendship in the building.

The best part was how I avoided an ugly, newsworthy mass-layoff situation. Instead I spread all the firings out over a month of Fridays. This not only helped our company avoid embarrassment, (as well as expensive severence packages) but it also helped develop a sense of self-preservation and paranoia among my remaining staff. Of course everyone is depressed and worried, and I'm the only one who knows that the firing spree is over!

As of this week I've implemented an office-wide training program focused on the importance of showing company spirit! You should see their faces in these sessions, the way I bring them together by forcing them to smile. No, I'm not just making a special effort to deliberately insult their intelligence! And to prove it I'm giving away free company logo sweatshirts to those who truly embody our company values and attitude! Go team!

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Taking back Christmas!

I'm tired of Christmas being one big hump and dump, so this year we're doing it differently. I'm gonna to teach my kids the true meaning of Christmas, even if it means a lot of tears and resentment. It's more important to me that they grow up to be decent people. That's the price of good parenting, and I really don't care how much they hate me for it!

For starters, I'm volunteering their asses to work after school at a local nursing home. I know an orderly there who'll pay me $5 per hour cash for the three of them to sing and read to old people. Their duties will also include emptying day-old bed pans and removing the occasional catheter. I'll receive an additional dollar for every hour they spend fishing recyclables out of the dumpster.

As for gifts this year, they might be surprised to receive something more practical than past years. Each of my kids will get either a shoe shining kit, a package of Dryel (home dry cleaning system), or a jar of jewelry cleaner. After they're done whining I'll explain how they can now earn their $2 per week allowance by carefully maintaining my wardrobe.

Now don't worry, because the kids aren't alone in this. My new husband Phil will be learning about the importance of family this year as he spends Christmas Day with my kids. I already told him that I'll be leaving after presents to "visit Mother", but I'm actually going to meet with my secret boyfriend Maurice, who's buying me an 8-ball of coke! That's what I call a "white" Christmas!

I truly feel bad for all you suckers who are spending yet another year in the stupid Christmas rat race. To make things a little easier for you, I have compiled my handy 4-part holiday guide which will help you get most out of the holiday season:

Spreading your holiday cheer!

Christmas shopping made easy!

Quick hints for a Happy Holiday!

Super secret Santa!

If these posts don't get you in the spirit then you really are hopeless.

Ain't nobody happy!

We have a saying in my house: "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!". You won't catch my kids acting the fool around me! I've got those bitches walking on eggshells in this house. Don't get me wrong though...I'm not one of those sadistic moms! I find it's best to take a more passive, creative approach to discipline!

Like when Brandon threw a tantrum a couple months ago because I forgot to send in the money for his class field trip. I told him, "Tough shit!", but he kept on whining. I told him to stop or he'd be sorry. He yelled, "I don't care! you're stupid!" and ran off to slam his bedroom door a few times before locking himself in. I let him stew in there all night.

The next day he was stuck sitting in the school library while the rest of his class when on their trip. Meanwhile I was at home, selling his bike to the overweight drop-out down the street who always bullies Brandon and his friends. Brandon will have to think about what he did every time that kid rides by on his old bike! That's re-enforcement!

Little Jailen is harder to get through to sometimes because she's only 3. Plus she's fairly well behaved, so it's hard to teach her lessons. That's why I use double-reverse psychology. I'll say something like, "Don't eat the candy I have in my underwear drawer!". She replies, "What candy?", and I'm like, "Don't worry about it!".

Later that day, when I catch her in the act, I yell for a minute, but then let her know that I forgive her for disobeying me and going in my room without permission. Of course the next morning she's asking me where all her Dora the Explorer shirts and other stuff have gone to. I know they're all stuffed in the trash, but I just say, "I dunno, maybe God is punishing you!".

My husband Phil isn't safe from my unhappy ass either! Last night I came home and found that he had forgotten to pick up some pre-mixed cocktails for me from the liquor store. I didn't say a word about it. I just took his Jagermeister bottle from the freezer and sipped off it all night while giving him the stink eye. He never even asked me what was wrong!

But I'm sure he remembered the next morning when he stepped his socks into that puddle of water I left around his work boots. And just to be sure we were clear I also dumped vinegar into his Bubba Jug of sweet tea. If he doesn't mention anything by tonight I'm going to wait until he falls asleep and wake him back up with a nice hard flick to the nuts.

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I'm a Vegetarian! (but I eat meat)

I've been trying to get back in my daughter's good graces lately. She's made it clear that I lost some of her trust during her brief adventure as a runaway. It's been a real uphill battle! Her new thing is that she's decided to become a vegetarian. After reading some of her magazines on the subject, I think this is a hobby I can definitely sink my teeth into!

Of course it's never as easy as just avoiding meat. All that leaves you with is crappy food! So Darla joined a new local vegetarian cooking club. Since I've shown so much enthusiasm for her new found passion, she invited me to be a part of their annual "Harvest Time" potluck. I was so excited that I promised Darla that I'd make a vegetarian version of my grandmother's old world lasagna recipe.

The potluck was a fun idea, and everyone seemed to enjoy my dish. But I wasn't too thrilled with theirs! I don't understand why vegetarians always insist on using so much tofu. And the lentils! And cabbage rolls! Needless to say, I became an instant gas bag. I politely went into the hallway and ripped a long, dirty fart. Suddenly a few young children of the group members ran out of the room and into the center of my fart cloud!

Nearly everyone had helped themselves to a slab of my delicious lasagna. I knew it'd be a hit, but I never expected people to ask for the recipe. Sorry, girls, but it's a family secret! Unfortunately I never did make it to the store before preparing my dish, so I had to substitute the mock ground beef I had planned to use with an old frostbitten package of ground veal.

Well how was I to know that vegetarian's bodies simply "forget" how to digest meat?! The next day they were all chatting on Facebook about how sick they all got. Luckily nobody figured out which dish caused it! Honestly, I haven't had such a laugh since that Summer I worked for that barbecue catering company, when I "accidentally" fed pork hot dogs at a Muslim family's reunion picnic!

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I ain't got all day!

Earlier this week I went to the cupboard for some Beef-a-roni, but apparently the kids had already eaten the last can. I really had my heart set on it! I was so angry that I yelled "motherfucker!", stomped out of the kitchen, and kicked the living room phone jack right off the wall. It's one of those things we all do impulsively, and regret immediately. Now my foot was hurt, and I needed this damn phone jack fixed!

I grabbed my cell phone and called the phone company. After going through a shit ton of really annoying robotic menus I was finally put in the queue to wait for a representative. I was still kind of mad about the whole thing to be honest. I decided it would be best to lie and say that the phone just went dead. She told me that I had the "protection plan" on my account, so the work would probably be covered.

The technician's visit was scheduled for the next day with an 8am to 12pm window. That meant I had to take off work that morning, but still, a 4-hour window isn't too bad. Since I had the morning off I decided to hit up the Bob Evans for some biscuits and corned beef hash. I returned home around 9:15 and found a note on the door. It stated that I had missed their tech at 8:15 a.m., which means he probably got there right at 8. Ridiculous!

That's when Phil came home because he'd forgotten to take his lunch that morning. He was needed at the job site, but I told him that first he needed to call the phone company and tell them that their tech left and that I had been waiting since 7am. While talking to the representative, he didn't sound all that convincing. So I yelled, "Tell them that I saw the truck driving off!". This went on for a few more minutes until I got fed up and took the phone from him.

I bitched at the rep for a few minutes, and I claimed that the tech never knocked. The rep said, "Maybe you didn't hear him, or maybe he didn't see the doorbell.". I yelled, "I don't have a doorbell, smart ass!". Then the rep put me on hold. He came back a few minutes later to tell me that he had spoken with the supervisor and that my technician would add me on as his last job of the day.

Now I had an afternoon to kill, so I drove to O'Charley's and drank a bunch of beers. I got home by around 4:45pm, and the tech was just pulling up. I said, "It's about time!". He said, "For your information I was here at 8:15 this morning for your appointment. Now I'll be stuck here when I should be driving my son to his basketball game." I told him that I don't care about all that and brought him inside.

He inspected the damage and advised me that there would be a charge to fix it, because accidental damage wasn't covered under the plan. I got all up in his face, poking him in his chest and yelling about how I refused to pay and how ridiculous this whole thing was. He quietly walked out, got in his van, and began to drive off. I ran out after him, and threw the broken phone jack at the back of his van. It missed and landed in the street. This whole experience just goes to show that good customer service is dead!

The prodigal daughter!

Darla has finally returned! She's been gone since April, when she ran away from home. Apparently she got her fill of the "real world", and has come crawling back for some sense of normalcy. Even though she's a woman of sixteen now, I was still a bit worried for her this whole time. After hearing about all that she's been through I can't say that I blame her!

Apparently she left town with some wolf enthusiast who drives a 12-year-old Geo Metro. He had promised to take her to Humbolt County, California, but the car broke down somewhere in the Mid-West. They went for help, but ended up getting stranded with a commune of paranoid, drug addicted young hippies. They let Darla's friend go, but made her stay because they thought her pregnancy was suspicious.

While living as their captive, Darla was still able to sneak to a phone every now and then. Unfortunately I was ignoring her voicemails. She was scared and feeling sick from all the stress and homemade soy milk they were giving her, but none of them would let her leave "the farm" to visit a doctor. She escaped five months later by hitch hiking from the edge of the woods.

She immediately checked into a Catholic hospital where they discovered that she had miscarried three months earlier. They were kind enough to remove the calcified remains of the fetus despite Darla's lack of medical insurance. She signed a release form, which is too bad, because the procedure has rendered her sterile. I told her she should still sue those bastards! She'd be set for life!

From there she had to take whatever charity should could find until she finally made it home. But now what's she going to do? She's a dropout with no marketable skills and no baby to claim for welfare, or to use to get checks from a man. I'm trying to convince her to be practical about this, but she's reluctant to take my advice. All I'm saying is that she'll make a decent regular income if she'd consider getting all her teeth pulled. Of course little miss "woman of the world" thinks I'm wrong about that too.

I can't help but feel somewhat responsible for all this. I mean, I didn't stop her from leaving, and I never tried to find her after she left. I also ignored ten letters and at least twenty voicemails over the course of the last several months. And on some of those messages she was downright begging me to help her get home. But I knew deep down that she wouldn't have learned her lesson until she found her way home alone, the hard way.

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Embarrassing the kids!

My damn kids love to accuse me of embarrassing them. It's either my clothes, the way I discipline them in public, or the way I act in front of other parents at school events. I know I do it, but what can I do? Moms are never "cool". They weren't cool even when I was a kid! It's not that I don't try! But nothing I do ever good enough for them, so why do I bother? Pure optimism, I guess.

Back when Darla was just in second grade she started peeing the bed again. Morning after morning I had to begin my day by throwing her sheets in the wash. Enough was enough! I told her that if she wet the bed again I was going to hang her pee-soaked underwear outside for all the kids on the bus to see. The next day I did just that. Needless to say, she stopped wetting after that. I'm not sure if she ever forgave me, but it worked! So what's the harm?

My 9 year old, Brandon, is an even bigger bitch about the way I treat him in front of his friends. I tried to be cool at the JV football game by handing loose cigarettes out to all his little buddies, but apparently they all thought that was weird. Then I wore a slutty top to the "parents n' kids field day", but all the children laughed at my flopping breasts, which made Brandon cry. Then he got mad at the fair because I washed his face off by licking it clean. Well how else does he expect me to remove all that cotton candy residue?

Even little Jailen is getting in on this foolishness. She thinks her three-year-old ass is too big for that stroller. And yeah, she is. She's a little porker to be quite honest. But I don't strap her into the stroller for my benefit. It's so she doesn't run around and get lost! The last time I let her walk on her own she ended up following the wrong mother's ass for several minutes before looking up, realizing it wasn't me, and screaming at the poor women until security had to be called to locate me. Of course I was trying on clothes, so I couldn't even get up there for another fifteen minutes!

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I want the gold, sucka!

All the girls at my work are into running and fitness. They've spent the entire Summer talking about all the marathons and triathlons they've participate in this year. I'm sick of hearing about it! That's why I decided to do a little talking of my own, by bringing in a shiny gold medal! I got online and found a little-known 5k race where I could be assured of an easy win.

The kids and I showed up a little late. The crowd was very small, maybe 250 people. We were told that the race was being held to raise funds for some really rare form of cancer. They only had one lady there who actually had the disease! She introduced herself and tried to sell us a raffle ticket for a chance to win a cute beaded anklet her daughter had made.

I started looking around at the competition. The only two I really had to worry about were this old guy who was really fit for his age, and some dude from Kenya. I pointed him out to Brandon, who nodded back at me nervously. Meanwhile, little Jailen was hiding under the raffle table trying to swipe that bracelet. I tell ya, the kid has taste!

The lady with cancer gave a small speech, and people started to get teary eyed. Then a preacher came up and lead everyone in a prayer. I took the opportunity to sneak off towards the park bathrooms. Then I quickly ducked down into the woods. Everybody said, "amen", and they lined up to start the race. I could see the first 200 yards of the race from my vantage point. They fired the starter pistol and the runners took off.

At about 120 yards I could see my little Brandon leading the crowd at full sprint! That's when he took his dive, causing our Kenyan friend to trip over him and slam into the ground. The fit old guy stopped to help them up, while the crowd ran past. The beauty of this maneuver was that these two would no longer have any idea who was in front of them in the race!

After about 18 minutes I could see the old man and the Kenyan making their way back through the entrance to the neighborhood. They were out in front again! I reached into my bag and opened up the water bottle full of liquid feces that I'd prepared. I knew I would need to appear as though I'd truly pushed myself to the limit! It was now or never!

I poured the whole thing down the back of my running shorts and took off like a maniac, straight out of the woods and towards the finish. My timing was perfect. As soon as I hit my stride I looked back and saw the guys making it around the turn, just as I was heading into the last curve. I could see the whole crowd going nuts as I hauled my out-of-shape ass all the way to the finish!

The feeling of winning was just incredible! Everyone was amazed at my time of 20 minutes 45 seconds. The lady with cancer was so moved by my win that she ran up and hugged me, despite my crap covered legs! The Kenyan and the old man looked confused and a little bit pissed. The walkers finally made it back, and the organizers called everyone in to announce the winners.

They awarded me a gold medal and a handy $200 Visa check card. I thanked them and stepped back into the crowd. Jailen and I grabbed our stuff and headed to the car. We found Brandon lying down in the back seat. He had 2 fully bruised legs and a size 12 footprint on the side of his head. That little man earned himself a nice big bowl of ice cream for being such a team player!

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Let me ride!

Phil has been making good money by contracting work out on some large-scale plumbing jobs. I guess that's why he thought it would be okay to trade in his 1986 Monte Carlo towards the purchase of a gently used Dodge Caliber (without even telling me!). The Caliber only has 12,000 miles on it, which made it way cheaper than a new one. This car is hot!



The problem is that maybe this car is a little too hot! For one thing, it makes my car look like shit. It's totally unfair that he should have a better car than mine. It also makes Phil a little too proud. And you know how those home wrecking bitches will try to get with him just because they like his car. It's not that I don't trust Phil. I just don't trust them bitches!

So last Tuesday I asked Phil if I could drive his Caliber to work. I could tell he didn't want me to, but he let me do it anyway. I guess he didn't get the hint that he was never going to drive this car again unless I'm riding in the passenger seat. If he's going to be driving to job sites all day then he can do it in my ex-husband's old piece of shit Mercury Cougar. It's already beat up, and it gets better gas mileage!

Phil realized by Thursday that I've taken his car as my own. He's been pouting like a child all weekend. I tried to tell him that he should go buy himself another car if he hates the Cougar so much, but I know he can't afford another car payment. Not on top of the payments for this house he bought me, and I'm sure he's still making payments on that ring.

Yes, I could probably afford to buy a new car for myself, but I told Phil before we got married that what's mine is MINE! One of the things I learned from my first marriage is that divorces can happen to anyone. No matter what happens, I will always be in a position to take proper care of me and my kids. Having this trustworthy new vehicle is just one more way that I can prepare for the worst.

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My big fat rummage sale!

I've been out posting signs all over the neighborhood for our yard sale this Saturday. There's stuff for all ages, including many one-of-a-kind items! Plus the kids will be selling refreshments. I don't want them messing up the kitchen making lemonade, so instead we're gonna open the cap on some 3-liters tonight and just sell flat soda as "orangeade". Yum!

Hopefully that fun activity will take their minds off the fact that I'm selling most of their toys. I decided last weekend that anything they didn't play with between Saturday and Sunday was going in the sale next week. They won't know it until they see it all set up on the tables. I'm also selling the stupid papasan chair they love so much, because I'm sick of cleaning our cat's shit out of the middle of the cushion.



Speaking of kids, there are other items in the sale that they probably won't miss. Like Jailen's old crib that lost a couple of the original screws and clips. For some reason that thing snaps shut like rat trap and collapses on top of itself as soon as you put more than 10 pounds of weight inside of it. There was a still a baby blanket trapped inside that I had to remove before I could reassemble the thing.



I've also got some stuff for the guys. Like my ex-husbands record albums, and his military stuff. I had told him that I threw all his things out, but no way! That shit's collectible! I'm also getting rid of my new husband's collection of novelty cologne bottles. He's got a motorcycle one, one shaped like a gun, and even one like a sexy lady! He loves those bottles...but I guess if he loves them so much then he shouldn't be going away to see a football game this weekend!



Last but not least, I'm selling all the crap that the nursing home sent over when my aunt died. I'm asking a very fair price on the grocery bag full of used catheters, and the raised toilet seat cushion (due to a few inches of exposed foam through a break in the seam). I've also got her high-end shower chair up for grabs. It only has a few dark stains on the seat, and one of the wheels keeps popping off. It's a nice chair, especially at this price. Nobody has to know that she died on it!





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Strangers in the night!

Last night I visited Empire, a local bar that's popular with the young people. It's more crowded than usual because VCU is back in session. I only meant to have a couple drinks, but ended up finishing off their last bottle of Bushmill's, along with a couple glasses of hard cider. I headed for the restroom, but it was full, so I stepped outside to pop a squat.

That's when I noticed this good lookin' dude outside the Mediterranean restaurant across the street. He looked pretty young, but had this scary face tattoo, and the piercing eyes of a violent sociopath. After gawking at a group of young college girls he turned his glance towards me. I must admit that after a moment of curious eye contact I was totally hooked!

He followed me into the alley and watched me pee. Then we split the plastic flask of Bowman's vodka that I keep in my purse for emergencies. He broke out a pipe with some meth and we got really tore up. He confessed that he had just gotten out of prison, and only had that face tattoo to keep men from hitting on him in the showers. He dared me to kiss him. I did. Then I dared him to punch the next person who walked by.

From there we kept making dares, and it got really funny. He dared me to grab somebody's ass. I jumped out and grabbed the ass of some poor freshman. And I don't mean a harmless cheek squeeze. I'm talking about a deep grab, with the middle finger hooked towards the balls and everything! That poor boy squealed and ran off swearing like a sailor!

We spent the next hour like that, harassing kids and making bets. I got him to start asking people for change, and some of them actually gave him money! Even the people who turned him down were nice about it. But there was this one kid that said no kind of rudely, and we could tell he had money. We gave him a world of shit, and even followed him up into the student parking deck, yelling and threatening him.

It's funny now, because I never asked this strange man's name, but the added mystery started to make me wonder about the guy. He asked me for a ride, which was fine, but then kept implying that I should take him home with me. I had no intention of doing that, but I made him think that I would. I gave him a couple of pills that I told him were ecstasy, but actually they were these hardcore tranquilizers that I bought from some sketchy bitch at the Greyhound bus station.

So we're riding in the car, and suddenly he pulls out an envelope of money that the prison gave him when he was released. It contained a couple hundred dollars. He said I could have all of it if I slept with him. I smiled and winked. That's when he passed out, face first into the dashboard. I drove on to a quiet side road, emptied his pockets, undressed him, and rolled him into the ditch. This was not easy for me to do, because he was a heavy little fucker, and I could have used the sex.

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I do it my way!

We only get one life to live. Some of you may be satisfied with whatever the lunch lady of fate slops out onto your tray, but I'm not. I demand the best, and I get it! I don't wait around for the good things in life. I take what I want! That's because unlike y'all, I have a backbone! Y'all probably think I'm selfish. But if life isn't all about me then why the heck did God put me smack in the middle of it?

Picture a restaurant at closing. Some of y'all would be too timid to enter, but not me. I'll walk right up in that bitch. I'll even tell the manager to stop all the sweeping and wiping off of tables because it's annoying. Then I'll order up a massive breakfast platter, and demand that each item be served on a different plate. Sure, I may get some attitude, but they only have themselves to blame for not locking the doors!

Another thing I won't fool with is crowded spaces, like airplanes, or DMV waiting rooms. So I make myself comfortable by sitting with my knees spread wide apart, and by taking over both armrests. I'm also not going to hold my gas, or cover my mouth when I cough. The sole purpose of a cough is to project germs as far away as possible, so to cover my mouth would be counter productive. It's not my fault the place is so crowded!

I even apply this attitude towards my driving. I've actually memorized the lights on my morning commute, so it's my pleasure to blare the horn at everyone about 10 milliseconds before the light turns green. And for some reason I always have to spit, and it's nasty to swallow it. So when I'm at a red light or stop sign I like to open the door and spit out on the ground. It's also a good time to pour out any unwanted beverages!

I'm a very busy woman. So yeah, I take parking spaces even if other people are already waiting for them. I also won't hesitate to take up two spaces. I do not need some fool dinging my Mercury Cougar! That extra space is useful too, because when I'm done with my shopping cart I can just wedge it into the side of the car next to me. And I can keep my door open all the way when I'm dumping out my ash tray, (and all those empty packs)!

This last bit isn't my wildest confession, but I'll tell you about it anyway. I always throw my trash into recycling bins. It's not that I hate the environment, I just hate the way trash cans stink! And if I can't find a recycling bin on the curb for Muffin's poop bag, I wait for the first barking dog we see and throw the bag into its yard. It's actually pretty cool because some of 'em will catch the bag in mid-air!

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Roommates suck!

I'm going to be honest. I wasn't ready when I had my first baby. Fortunately my mother was very cool about it. So yeah, I left the baby with her for a few months, and found a place to stay where I could squeeze a few more months of enjoyment out of my own youth before being saddled with a screaming, puking, shit-caked infant. Can you blame me?

I found a nice cheap room for rent in the classifieds. It was in a house owned by a young nurse named Ellen. I paid her a small deposit and moved in without incident. For the first night we got along great! We talked about guys and shared a nice bottle of wine. But soon, like most roommates, we began to have our differences.

For one thing, the bitch had a cat, and I did not want that thing getting on my bed. I would spray it all over with nasty cherry air freshener whenever it came anywhere near my bedroom. Ellen asked me to stop, and to quit wearing her clothes, and eating her snacks. She also asked me to stop telling callers that she was out getting an abortion. Well I'm sorry, but I wasn't trying to be her answering machine!

She complained about me walking around the place naked while her friends were visiting. That was just silly, because this big ol' bush covers up my lady business completely! She would also bitch about me not paying for my part of the utilities, but they were all in her name, so why the hell should I be paying them? I wasn't using that much electricity anyway (other than the dope I was growing in my closet!)

But our biggest problem was that my room was right above hers, and she worked a day shift. She couldn't stand the fact that I was free to stay up late dancing and fucking and fighting while she had to go to bed early. She also seemed jealous of my 50-year-old sugar daddy, who paid all my shit so that I wouldn't have to work.

She finally had enough after returning from her uncle's funeral out of state. She was supposed to be gone all weekend, so I threw this huge rager of a party. At about midnight she came storming up in there and kicked everybody out. Then, as she was telling me off, she walked in her room and found three guys banging a fat hooker on her bed. To make matters worse, the hooker's pimp was sitting in her papasan chair, watching.

Eventually I just gave in to her self-righteous demands and made arrangements to move out. But before I left I made a point of letting her stupid "indoor" cat out the back door. Then I dumped its litter box out into her underwear drawer. And finally, to make sure there was no misunderstanding, I smashed a large jar of kim chee against her headboard, which sent hunks of fermented cabbage and shards of broken glass all over the top of her pillows and bedspread.

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Men can't do anything right!

Getting the kids ready each morning is a huge pain. That's why I like to leave for work before they get up. I enjoy a leisurely breakfast somewhere, or just surf the net at my desk until my shift. That leaves my new husband Phil to wake the kids, get them washed, dressed, and fed before he leaves for work. Of course, being a man, he does a pretty crummy job!

I don't cater to my kids, but it would be nice if Phil would, because he's supposed to be building a relationship with them. They have a hard enough time showing him respect, especially with the way he makes me berate him all the time. So I think the least he could do is pick them up some McDonald's breakfast when they ask for it, or to drive them to school so they don't have to ride the stupid bus.

Phil tries to be the man of the house, but it's hard. I just can't stand the way little Jailen cries when he gets stern with her. That's why I make him plead with her to be good instead. Of course if it was me I'd just let her tantrums run their course. Like at nice restaurant, I'm not gonna waste my time trying to coax a screaming child out from under the table.

Phil would rather waste money with babysitters. I think he's just being selfish, because he doesn't want to deal with my kids all the time. But if he really loves me then he should love my children's tantrums too! Men just can't understand the mentality of a mother who has spent some time being single. He needs to learn that he's expendable. Or, as I always like to say: "It's me and my kids against the world!".

It's not just with the kids though. Phil screws everything else up too! The other day he broke out the grill and cooked up some hot dogs. I know he did this because I'm always saying how much I love grilled meats. But we had run out of buns, and that dumb fucker tried to get me to eat my hot dog on a folded piece of white bread! I just threw it on the floor, and went to Outback Steakhouse...alone!

And sometimes Phil tries to do his own thing without asking me first. Like he'll go get a beer with his coworkers, and I don't know about it until I get home and hear his message on the machine. Then he tries to escape to the bathroom when he gets back, so I have to yell at him through the door. He tries to act surprised at my anger, but he knows what he did! He doesn't need to be going out with his stupid friends! He knows he needs to get home and rub these feet!

The other night I really ripped his ass about how much he annoys me. I told him that I'm sick of how he empties the dishwasher so loudly. And how he's always watching TV shows that I don't like. Then I told him that our sex is too gentle, and that he needs to be more of a man. I mean Christ, we're married! I shouldn't have to tell him what I like!

Phil tried to make it all up to me by apologizing. He even brought me a lovely single red rose. That was the last straw, because he knows that I only like roses that are dipped in gold like the ones they sell in the SkyMall catalog. Other times he's tried to make me happy by buying me jewelry, or clothes that make me look my age. But why? I've made it abundantly clear that I prefer to get clothes from Forever 21.
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Hazing the new guy!

My company just hired a new facilities manager for our building. Mr. Durwood Walsh is 62 years old, and I'm told that he's had a difficult time finding work. He was planning to retire with his wife, but that was before his old company laid him off, and his 401k lost so much in the recession. I'm glad our company gave him a chance. In light of his situation, I decided to put him through his week of hazing in secret, so as not to embarrass him.

On Monday I introduced myself. Mr. Walsh was very pleasant and personable. While he took the time to stop and meet everyone else, I snuck outside and laid a nice thick slice of cheap bologna on the hood of his car. Later that morning he spent his break time fixing our copier, which was all jammed up with copier paper. That's was nice because it's actually my job. While he was busy with that I took the opportunity to empty my Ped-Egg out on top of his keyboard.

On Tuesday he arrived to discover that "someone" had let all the air out of his trusty hemorrhoid cushion. When he stopped in to the break room for coffee I went over to his desk and shredded all the forms that HR gave him to fill out. Later that day he discovered some mysterious Pop Tart crusts stuffed up into his stapler. And he's been getting a lot of calls from a privatized number, but the caller keeps hanging up as soon as he answers his phone. Who on Earth could it be?

On Wednesday I pretended that my computer wasn't working so I had to use the vacant desk next to Durwood's. I spend the entire day distracting him with annoying sounds. I used my speakerphone to make all my calls with, wore my my noisiest bracelets, and popped and smacked my gum. I clicked my pen, burped, and loudly cleared my throat as often as possible. I also spent 20 minutes slurping the bottom of a milkshake.

On Thursday he called in sick. That's probably because I'm just getting over a flu, and I've been coughing on his stuff all week, especially his jacket. Now I hear from our director that Durwood hasn't been sick in a very long time, and this virus has hit him so hard that he had to be hospitalized! As of his call-in this morning he thinks his wife may be coming down with it too. The really funny thing is that his company insurance doesn't kick in for another 6 months. Still, it's a small price to pay for being part of the team!

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Wild Virginia!

We don't always think about it here in Richmond, but take a short drive West and you'll discover that our fine state is mostly a big beautiful wilderness. There are mountains to climb, rivers to raft, and a variety of animals to feast upon. Unfortunately, our relationship with God's creatures isn't always so fruitful!

I'll never forget the time I used Phil's truck to take our trash to an unlocked dumpster. I stopped off for some coffee at a diner just out of town. While stirring my drink I noticed a couple of greedy crows who were tearing the trash bags in the back of the truck. I snuck out the side of the building and began to open fire with my handgun (don't worry, it shoots copper pellets!).

I managed to hit one of the crows, but it didn't die. Instead it started flapping around and crying bloody murder! For some reason that caused another half dozen crows to show up out of nowhere, and they were all screeching like crazy! Then some people in the diner began looking and pointing. I had no choice but to get in the truck and take off, with a trail of garbage blowing out of the truck behind me!

Then there was our weekend camping trip last Spring. I borrowed a truck cab from a friend so Phil and I could take the kids to spend a weekend in Pennsylvania. The cab had been sitting out in a big pile of dry leaves since last year. We threw the cab on, put the kids in the back, and headed out. They ended up having to take their shoes off so they could use 'em to crush all the spiders that came pouring out of that truck cab!

Come to find out, these were actually Brown Recluse spiders! These things have managed to infest not only the truck, but the kid's bedrooms as well. Brandon and little Jailen are now covered in black, gaping spider bites. I'm sure they'll be a real hit at school this season with these dark rotting holes on 75% of their bodies. It's also a pain for me because the holes must be stuffed with iodine soaked gauze at all times!

My final wildlife adventure involved a solo drunken drive home from a bar out in the county. After three rounds of Coal Miner's daughter at the Karaoke machine I was finally sloppy enough to call it quits. On one of the windy back roads I managed to hit something with the van. I watched as the force of impact launched it's lifeless body out into the woods. I have no idea what kind of animal I hit, because all that was left on the ground was some bloody hair and a gold filling.

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Marijuana fun!

I received a lot of angry comments on my post about marijuana law, so I'm taking this opportunity to clarify my position. Yes, I believe that marijuana should be illegal. My political beliefs have nothing to do with my constant use of the drug. The fact is, smoking weed is a whole lot of fun, and I'm gonna tell y'all why!

Smoking marijuana doubles the effects of alcohol. Any pussy can drive drunk. But are you brave enough to smoke a bowl before taking that wheel? This doubling effect is especially useful when I'm paying full price for drinks, like at a comedy club. After three shots in the parking lot and a toke in the bathroom I get hammered enough to heckle comedians to tears!

Another good thing about smoking weed is the way it inspires us to gorge ourselves with junk food. There are three levels of this compulsion. There's the "eat an entire goddamn bag of Doritos" level. There's the Cici's Pizza/Golden Corral "binge until you can't eat or poop for a week" level. And for advanced users, there's the level where you roll around on a ghetto seafood buffet, gorging yourself like a maggot in a hospital dumpster!

Marijuana is also great just for entertainment purposes. Like when I blow a fat bong hit in the cat's face. The kids think it's hilarious when she gets all paranoid and scratches at their legs! And we had a great time putting a hot roach out on the dashboard of our neighbor's truck, just after his son returned home with it. Poor kid had to ride the bus for the rest of the year!

Smoking pot constantly is an easy road to a happier life. It has helped me to effectively bury my emotions for years at a time. I'm thankful for the safe emotional distance it has created between me and my needy-ass family. And speaking of family, I should add that marijuana also makes boring things more enjoyable, and enjoyable things laughably boring. But who cares, because I won't remember any of it anyway!

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Might makes right!

My ex-husband Kevin and I always had a feisty relationship. He learned early on that when I'm angry I can only communicate through loud swearing and insults. I berated him, shoved him, even threw things at his head as he walked out the door. But no matter how much I pushed him, I never got him to resort to violence. Not even when I yelled, "A real man would fight back!".

During our separation he ended up moving into his mother's house. He had to sleep in his old childhood room, with the same old crappy twin bed and everything. Each night we would fight on the phone, and I'd continually threaten him until I got my way. But I guess I went too far the night that I threatened to destroy all our family photos!

Kevin showed up at the house the following day and got the kids to let him in. Then he went to the closet and collected our box of photos for safe keeping. I walked in and caught him. I ran up and tried to grab the box. He turned, dodged me, and headed for the door. I jumped on his back and tried to choke him, but I fell off him and banged my ankle on the door jamb.

He tried to help me up, but I told him to just take the pictures and go home. Then I called the cops and told them that he had shoved me down in front of my kids. I just wanted to give Kevin a scare. I had no idea how seriously the police took these things! Within an hour they were dragging him out of his mother's house in front of all her neighbors, some of whom she has known for 30 years!

I decided that it had gone far enough, so I called the arresting officer and told him the truth. He wouldn't listen! He said that domestic violence cases were handled differently, and that I'd have to speak on Kevin's behalf at his court date. Unfortunately my divorce attorney advised against it. Poor Kevin ended up in jail for three months, and I ended up with custody of the kids. So in that sense it all worked out.

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