April Fool ©

I’m struggling to write a post but can’t find the time.
I’m fucken sore from helping the Ex move yesterday and in the middle of it all I end up in the middle of a bank robbery.
I had to go to the bank and as I opened the door some guy ran out in a hurry then as I walked in a teller threw her hands up telling me the bank was closed.
FUCK, I had things to do.
I should be lucky I didn’t get charged for being an accessory to the robbery for holding the door open for him.

Then, about two hours later I find myself sneaking around having a clandestine meeting in some remote parking lot with a woman I had never met before in my life where we exchanged packages before we disappeared once more never to see each other again.
If that wasn’t enough I had to go to my Ex.’s place and help the movers move her because one kid was at work and the other one in school and she was alone.
I wanted to help her save money by helping and in the end I still think she got screwed.
Cost her 350 to move a small apartment a mile away that took less than 2 hours.

I know some of you think I am nuts for helping her after what she has done to me in the past and I have all the reasons not to help but only one to help her.
She is one step away from being a bag lady and some dark alley to sleep in.
It’s all her own doing but I have a responsibility, not to her but to me and my kids do something.

We have become a disposable society with our paper cups, plastic forks and Styrofoam boxes.
We pile up our old TVs and computers on the street to be removed from our sight so that we could replace them with something new.
More garbage, but not everything that is tossed out can be replaced.
Over the years I have seen an increase of elderly being sent away to nursing homes even though they were capable to stay home with family.

The other night as I stood in a dark alley smoking a joint I watched an old woman carrying what must have been twenty bags hobbling down the street sifting through the garbage cans.
It was around 2 am and cold.
She looked like a whale with all the layers of tattered clothes wrapped around her body.

I was half done when she reached the alley where I stood and she began sifting through the crap looking for something she might be able to use or sell when she stopped and looked deep into the darkness in the direction where I stood.
I could see her face as the light from the street lamp shone down on her.
It was a face I knew from a long time ago, one that was brighter, happier in a life filled with the laughter of kids all around…

Later, I sat on my couch listening to a story about an 85-year-old woman who lives with her 54-year-old daughter.
Her daughter feels burdened with her mother but also obliged because it was her money that paid for their house.
The mother feels caged because she is not permitted to have any of the few friends she has left come see her.
For the last five years they haven’t spoken even though they live in the same house.
At 6am one goes to work and the other walks to a bus stop for a one hour trip to the same mall, to the same store she has gone to for the last 10 years since her husband died to buy what food she will cook to eat that day then goes back home to lock herself back up in her cell until tomorrow…

We have created a world of garbage and only now are beginning to think about conservation and recycling but what about those people who are left forgotten.
I have no desire to watch me Ex end up like that and it doesn’t matter to me if she would leave me rot in a ditch if she had the chance.
This isn’t about her its about who I am and what I want my kids to be that’s important.

See, I still have a need for the Ex and that’s to teach them compassion, something they have not been taught over the last seventeen years.
Thy need to learn that family is important even if it’s dysfunctional family and the way to do that is by example.
I have no doubt that my ex would help either one of the kids if they were in trouble, she just can’t deal with them anymore.

I may be a fool but I know what’s right and what’s wrong and letting her fall any father would be wrong.
Letting my kids learn to not care, especially about family would be wrong more wrong than what that bitch done to me.
So I helped her move and told D1 to have her account transferred to her new place and to leave it in her name because they EX has no credit which is D2s fault for running up her phone bill.
I told her I would also pay for it until she gets her disability.
I can’t afford another bill but she lives in a ten by ten basement room all alone with 60 bucks left a month to live on and no lifeline to the outside while I have more than most.

Today was supposed to be part two of the last post but haven’t finished it yet instead sitting here writing this.
The other day marked this Blog’s forth year and it’s been a long ride since it’s conception back in 2005.

Some of you have been with me from almost the beginning some of you are new.
I have let you see into my heart.
Get lost in my head.
I have confused you with my feelings and gotten you angry at my opinions.

I have evolved with my blog or maybe we have grown with each other would be a better way of saying it.
In the beginning it was a part of me but today it has become me to the point where the blog is nothing more than a window into my life with no curtains to restrict your view.
With every post I invite you into the various rooms of my life as welcome guests, even those who don’t agree with my lifestyle or me.

In the beginning I was conscious of what I said as not to hurt anyone’s feelings or to alienate any of the people I respected but as time went on I realized what I was doing was exactly that and hurting myself in the process.
I came to understand that in order for me to be honest or as honest as I could be was to just be me and if people didn’t like what they saw, well life’s a bitch but I can’t be what you want me to be all the time.

The way I saw it was that in my life here around me I have friends who are bikers, priests, Jews, Muslin, Asian, Black, White, Red, male, female, gay, not gay, big, small round, flat, young, old and everything that fits in the middle of all that mess.
If I have this diversity in the daily life around me then why can’t I have it here and it’s reflected in my blog roll?

I’m proud of my blog roll and mostly because the people on there, are all distinct individuals who believe in what they are and what they believe in.
Even though many of them are on opposite sides of issues they find a common ground to stand on and this is what makes for strong communities be it in your neighborhoods or right here on the Internet.

I would like to thank all of you who have come by here over the last four years and help me find who I am and in payment for your patronage I promise to swear, rant, dream out loud, talk about boobs for as long as I can and stand by you when you need me with my real opinions and the truth as I see it.

Now how about I go back and finish part two for you before someone beats me OH but before I go.

ItisI, I wasn’t with a teacher named Busty Barb but big boobs had a part in it.

Boxer, I would have told you her name in the comments section but you might have beaten the fuck out of me because her name is, no word of a lie and I asked permission first, is, Inia Skirt.

Puss-in-Boots, I know but in my defense she bent over first.

Michael Manning, I just did

Peter, I slept in, sort of

Scarlet, The party never ends here

Teresa, You didn’t miss a thing, I still have cake ;)

Monogram Queen, I am always safe, I just limp a lot

Lindi, Life is, what life is, we just have to step back from the drawing board sometimes to take a breath before we keep on living.

Megan, Mmmmm’yes it was

Have a nice day

Walker