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Ned. Home. New life.
-- 2005-12-12

Guest Entry -- Bindyree
-- 2005-12-03

WTF???
-- 2005-10-16

Morality question...
-- 2005-10-07

The creepiest thing...
-- 2005-10-04




Smacked

2005-04-19 - 11:59 a.m.

Either someone slipped me a Rohypnol and had their way with me, or I took some Tylenol PMs and had some incredibly vivid sex dreams last evening.

I'll venture to say it was the latter.

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The temperature has finally hit 70. (Not my temperature. I'd be dead.) It's absolutely gorgeous outside! Tomorrow, the Weather Channel is predicting some serious thunderstorm action -- and you know how much I enjoy thinderstorms! :-)

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Well, it looks as if I'm going in a half-hour earlier than usual this afternoon. I think I need to request the weekend around May 4th off, as that seems to be the timeframe in which we'll be relocating downstairs. We'll see how that goes.

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I'm going to share something here that I honestly never thought I'd bring up again, but here goes:

In my last entry, I mentioned something about two demon kids who 'bothered' Nelson and I at the laundromat, and something about giving them a "dose of vitamin spank".

I'm not entirely pro-spanking children, but then again, I am not completely against it.

About twelve years ago, my mother and I shared a small house. We split the rent 50/50 along with the bills, etc., because my mother's live-in boyfriend of nearly 7 years threw her out on the street, basically. (thus avoiding Pennsylvania's common-law marriage) My half-brother, Jon -- who is almost exactly ten years my junior also lived with us.

Jon was (and I am by no means bending the truth) a terror. Whenever he didn't get his way, he'd break things, strike (physically) my mother, use foul languange, and throw himself on the floor and have fits that made Linda Blair's character in "The Exorcist" look like 'Sweet Polly Perfect'.

One day, out of nowhere -- Jon grabbed a knife, and tried to hand it to my mother.

"Why don't you just kill yourself!"

My mother nearly broke down into tears, and I -- who had had just about enough and out of reflex, slapped my brother across the face without a single thought, leaving a small red mark under his eye.

My mother got pissed at me, and Jon -- who went to school the next day turned me in to the school nurse. You must understand, that my mother was extremely passive, and just allowed all of this to go on, untouched.

Needless to say, I had to report in front of a District Magistrate (if memory serves), and state my case. After explaining the situation to the woman (who was a complete and utter bitch), I was let off with just a verbal reprimand.

"You just can't go around slapping your brother whenever the urge strikes you!"

This comment came after I explained, in detail, what had happened.

Am I a bad person for still feeling like I did nothing wrong? I hardly think so. My father literally BEAT us when we misbehaved. He used a belt and left terrible marks, sometimes not just on our asses.

That was abuse, folks. The line between discipline and abuse is a fine one. When I smacked my brother, it was warranted.

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Okay. Well, that woke me up. Gotta get ready for work. TTFN.


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