AHole Tax

Morning all, it’s time to confess my sins. “Forgive me friends for I have sinned, it’s been quite awhile since my last confession.”

I’ve been an evil child since conception. Alcoholism, drug addiction, and other mental abberations did not change that. In fact, I became worse as time went on. Just ask the family members I never talk to anymore.

So, being of evil bent, I am not a nice person to be in a relationship with. Okay, I’m a wretched person. I confess. So, when my beloved is being an unreasonable arse, and I am beyond my limit, I charge an ahole tax.

Asshole Tax: “Charging someone extra purely because their personality sucks, and may have been rude, annoying, wasted your time, or just generally need to be fined for forcing others to endure them.” -Urban dictionary website probably the 5th definition down. I really encourage you to look up the term on that particular site. It is enlightening.

Anyways, you may suspect that there are times I charge my beloved an asshole tax. I do, and he knows it. I consider it a “Thank You” gift. Back when he was drinking, it was a 50 dollar surcharge on each trip to the liquor store.

When he bugs me 45 times to change or add to a grocery order after the order has been placed? Ahole taxes are added to the order. Especially if he didn’t bring this up knowing I was making an order for a week ahead of time.

Texts me when I am physically in the store, and adds a zillion things to the list? Especially since I started using the chair and the damn store didn’t shrink since he worked there? Double time if he knows I am in the dairy section and he wants more crap from HBA which is a quarter of a furlong away? Ahole tax.

That said, it’s not always been sunshine and rainbows, and I’m not a saint. Today, I confess, I did yet another asshole tax. It was the order has been placed, and you are texting me 75 times even though you are in the next room, to add to the order tax.

If you suspect that quite a bit of my camping equipment was paid for in ahole tax, you could be right.

!Hugs my friends. Take care. Stay petty. -L

They bullied my dog

Morning all, it’s a cool morning, and fall is in the air. Young Master Duke is not traumatized, but I am.

You see, Monday afternoon, I snuck out to the garage for about 20 minutes. Young Master Duke was out back, and I just needed some recliner time. I was about to stitch for a few, and I heard deep barking. Not Duke barking. I hadn’t been paying attention, to be honest, and then Duke replied.

I thought wtf? The football team was practicing in the field across the creek. The were running laps. The football team was barking at my dog.

I was going to go through the house and grab him, and the little heifers did it again.

I admit, I lost my sheet. While I am a heavy smoker, I do have a deeper voice that carries. I let them know that not only there is a dog in the neighborhood, but there is a bitch as well.

The world can f me over, I expect it. I accept medical gaslighting. I accept being treated like crap because I am in a wheelchair. I accept that because I am an addict, life will suck forever.

I do not accept some mindless children bullying my dog. Needless to say, Duke will not be allowed out when they are practicing again. That’s my responsibility. However, I personally want to take them all out to the back 40 for a documented discussion.

I won’t. However, I am sorely tempted.