Day 1920

Typical

Good day, then came into Toxichouse, all WAS well. Stoney on the computer, Hulk @ his side.

Later, It bursts in, complaining, negative, bitching. It, of course, plans nothing, goes shopping w/o a list, w/o checking what's in the fridge. So, naturally, there's no room. This in turn-from the queen of displacement-turns into my interrogation, a la: "why do you have this here?" Never mind chair frames in the driveway, rescued from garbage, sans pillows, rusting, that have been there (literally) for 6 years. Nevermind an apparent college dropout (he's enjoying his life, and that's good. BUT, remember the "you HAVE to pay for college" bullshit? If I had the funds, would it have made a difference? If anyone REALLY gave a fuck, rather than-again-placing all responsibility on someone else-would he be in session? Nope.)

That's put aside in lieu of pointing-as usual-all aggression @ me.

Remember It took computer classes (in yet another attempt to do anything BUT stay in and clean the house or cook, you know, MOTHERLY/PARENTING type shit). Were those classes ever put to use (i.e. helping Stoney online apply for loans?)? AND, if he's on the computer almost 12 hours a day, he couldn't do so himself? No, easier to point @ the guy who went to work daily for 24 years, paid every bill, whose benefits saved your life.

Typical example: incessantly buys in store cooked fried chicken. A lot easier than actually cooking. Or, buy pizza, or taco bell, or (best of all) have the King call and place his take out order and bring it to him. God bless him, he has It well trained. (more $ to smoke away).

Good thing Uncle Pete sent $ for books.

But I need counseling.

I get my miles, I'm good.

Retirement is VERY good.

Enjoy reading this, I love writing it. (privacy? boundaries? Not in THIS house. Here the child is the parent). Respect? They know not how to spell it. Live like animals.