Venting session
Well,
It has been for fucking ever since I have really written in any of my journals (whether online or handwritten) however, this past week has just pushed every possible button. So, I turn to LJ to vent. Those of you who don't wish to read any bitter or angry entries full of explicit words...perhaps you should skip over this one.
So just a few weeks ago, I and my roomie (carlene) moved to Orlando, Fl. Why? Because I got a job offer doing modeling and the money was certainly better than working at a coffee house for 8.00/hour part time. Go figure, right? So she and I move down here and are living in a hotel suite. (It was a very nice one actually...a bedroom, a living/dining room, and a kitchen.) We were paying 406/week for it. It was nice.
Last week we get a call on the cell from my brother. Yes, that's right, my lazy ass, dead beat, slimey, and deceitful brother. He calls and says he is in Fl. and wants to know how to get to where Carlene and I are. He tells us that he has left his wife and family and blah blah blah. Of course, he gives the sob story of how terrible it is with Vickie at the house. How she is such a bitch, and spends all the money he brings in, yadda yadda yadda. Same old shit, right?
So we say he can stay with us. He tells his brother in law and his brother in laws woman that he is bisexual, wants to be with men, can't live where he is being repressed, etc. In the meantime, Vickie has already told me of how he has been calling his oldest son a "fucking faggot" and been using quotes such as, "we already have one queer in the family, we aren't going to have two!" So that was kind of frustrating. Mother fucker wants to come here, act like everything is as he wants to spin it all...what the fuck? Who the FUCK does that bitch think he is?
He ended up staying with my friends while he was here, because I started calling him on the lies he was telling. But I also found out that while he was at my friends, he spent the entire time beggining his wife to take him back. While he kept telling me he would never go back to that, whatever. Guess where he is right now? Back with his wife.
Do I care that he went back to his wife? No. That's not the issue. It is the fact that he fucking lied, repeatedly to my fucking face. Fuck you, Nigel. Fuck you.
Did I mention that the house of friends he was staying in is full of nothing but gay and bi guys? Oh, and did I mention that he was getting quite close to one of the guys there? Not to mention he was the nastiest guy in the house. The one person I tell Nigel is a nasty mother fucker, he of course runs into the arms of that one. The last night he was here I had to fucking watch Nigel all over that ass. It was fucking disgusting!!
So, Nigel is leaving. I take him outside to ask him if he is coming back or not. He has told everyone else that he is. I made it clear, that I don't care if he does or not, I just wanted the fucking truth for once. I knew the answer...yet he still couldn't tell me fucking straight. Instead he gets in my fucking face yelling about my birth father beating him and shit. Get over it! Life moves on, bitch, and really, it has nothing to do with the fucking situation!
Oh, and there is the lovely little lie he told about him having lung cancer. And three different times he tried convincing Carlene that he "doesn't have it as bad as me, but still has some." That is so fucked up on so many levels! Do you have to have that much fucking attention, Nigel?! Is this a competition?! Oh! Who is sicker? Whose going to die first?! For the first time, I hope it's him. He has crossed me twice now, when both times I was trying to help the fucker. I officially have nothing but hate in my blood for that scum; and that hurts.
So, I tried to call his wife today, Vickie (we were friends before), and she acts all kinds of cold towards me. Then accuses me of not letting Nigel have his clothes back. Bitch, had I wanted to keep his shit, it would have been the credit card machine. At least that is worth something. I brought Nigel everything before he left here. He said his clothes were a garuntee that he was coming back. I knew that was bullshit. But whatever. He wants to leave behind his clothes, that is his deal. Dumbass. The conversation ended with her hanging up on me. So, to you Vickie, I apologize. I am not apologizing for anything I have done, but rather for the fact that you decided to take such a loser back into you and your children's lives. I regret that I will probably never see my nephews again, but such is life. I will still send their christmas and birthday gifts to them, care of Nigel's parents.
Why can't he just tell the fucking truth for once? Who knows. He is fucked up in the head. He has done nothing but lie to and hurt the ones who do nothing but try and help him. Whatever. Good ridance. Knowing Nigel, he will sweet talk someone else into taking him in the next time he decides to leave Vickie. Then again, maybe for once, Nigel can be brought down and put in his fucking place. Who knows. I certainly don't, and from this point on, I don't care. I hope to never hear from, speak to, or see his sorry ass again.
It has been for fucking ever since I have really written in any of my journals (whether online or handwritten) however, this past week has just pushed every possible button. So, I turn to LJ to vent. Those of you who don't wish to read any bitter or angry entries full of explicit words...perhaps you should skip over this one.
So just a few weeks ago, I and my roomie (carlene) moved to Orlando, Fl. Why? Because I got a job offer doing modeling and the money was certainly better than working at a coffee house for 8.00/hour part time. Go figure, right? So she and I move down here and are living in a hotel suite. (It was a very nice one actually...a bedroom, a living/dining room, and a kitchen.) We were paying 406/week for it. It was nice.
Last week we get a call on the cell from my brother. Yes, that's right, my lazy ass, dead beat, slimey, and deceitful brother. He calls and says he is in Fl. and wants to know how to get to where Carlene and I are. He tells us that he has left his wife and family and blah blah blah. Of course, he gives the sob story of how terrible it is with Vickie at the house. How she is such a bitch, and spends all the money he brings in, yadda yadda yadda. Same old shit, right?
So we say he can stay with us. He tells his brother in law and his brother in laws woman that he is bisexual, wants to be with men, can't live where he is being repressed, etc. In the meantime, Vickie has already told me of how he has been calling his oldest son a "fucking faggot" and been using quotes such as, "we already have one queer in the family, we aren't going to have two!" So that was kind of frustrating. Mother fucker wants to come here, act like everything is as he wants to spin it all...what the fuck? Who the FUCK does that bitch think he is?
He ended up staying with my friends while he was here, because I started calling him on the lies he was telling. But I also found out that while he was at my friends, he spent the entire time beggining his wife to take him back. While he kept telling me he would never go back to that, whatever. Guess where he is right now? Back with his wife.
Do I care that he went back to his wife? No. That's not the issue. It is the fact that he fucking lied, repeatedly to my fucking face. Fuck you, Nigel. Fuck you.
Did I mention that the house of friends he was staying in is full of nothing but gay and bi guys? Oh, and did I mention that he was getting quite close to one of the guys there? Not to mention he was the nastiest guy in the house. The one person I tell Nigel is a nasty mother fucker, he of course runs into the arms of that one. The last night he was here I had to fucking watch Nigel all over that ass. It was fucking disgusting!!
So, Nigel is leaving. I take him outside to ask him if he is coming back or not. He has told everyone else that he is. I made it clear, that I don't care if he does or not, I just wanted the fucking truth for once. I knew the answer...yet he still couldn't tell me fucking straight. Instead he gets in my fucking face yelling about my birth father beating him and shit. Get over it! Life moves on, bitch, and really, it has nothing to do with the fucking situation!
Oh, and there is the lovely little lie he told about him having lung cancer. And three different times he tried convincing Carlene that he "doesn't have it as bad as me, but still has some." That is so fucked up on so many levels! Do you have to have that much fucking attention, Nigel?! Is this a competition?! Oh! Who is sicker? Whose going to die first?! For the first time, I hope it's him. He has crossed me twice now, when both times I was trying to help the fucker. I officially have nothing but hate in my blood for that scum; and that hurts.
So, I tried to call his wife today, Vickie (we were friends before), and she acts all kinds of cold towards me. Then accuses me of not letting Nigel have his clothes back. Bitch, had I wanted to keep his shit, it would have been the credit card machine. At least that is worth something. I brought Nigel everything before he left here. He said his clothes were a garuntee that he was coming back. I knew that was bullshit. But whatever. He wants to leave behind his clothes, that is his deal. Dumbass. The conversation ended with her hanging up on me. So, to you Vickie, I apologize. I am not apologizing for anything I have done, but rather for the fact that you decided to take such a loser back into you and your children's lives. I regret that I will probably never see my nephews again, but such is life. I will still send their christmas and birthday gifts to them, care of Nigel's parents.
Why can't he just tell the fucking truth for once? Who knows. He is fucked up in the head. He has done nothing but lie to and hurt the ones who do nothing but try and help him. Whatever. Good ridance. Knowing Nigel, he will sweet talk someone else into taking him in the next time he decides to leave Vickie. Then again, maybe for once, Nigel can be brought down and put in his fucking place. Who knows. I certainly don't, and from this point on, I don't care. I hope to never hear from, speak to, or see his sorry ass again.