Ahhhhhh. Monday morning, and I'm not feeling any sort of dread whatsoever. That's a good feeling. I'm doing pretty good...unlike my niece, Binky. She's flown to Washington State to visit her father and his wife, and I am beginning this day feeling more than a little sorry for her; these are the people who plowed into her room the last time she visited and woke her two hours into her rest because "she forgot to pray". Wilberteets told me this morning that Bink is already in tears as they have been forcing her to listen to Christian music. I love God. I do. Me and God arelikethis...but I hate Christian music, and I think that Bo and his wife Troll need to be beaten without reservation. Bo's mother used to show up from Washington with a duffelbag full of the most ridiculous religious programming available...videotape after videotape...and she expected everyone to watch them. Bo is ...her. Revisited. Oh well. This is funny because when he was still teets husband, he mixedhis special brand of holier-than-thou with binges of every sort, and verbal abuse to boot. It was all very Jimmy Swaggart. My ex, on the other hand, is working the godless tip...and working it hard. I awoke this morning with one of his favorite borrowed phrases on my mind..."You better check yourself, before you wreck yourself." This from a man who not only disparaged blacks just to be "cool" amongst his peer group of shitheels, but also stayed intoxicated constantly, effectively "wrecking himself". Now he lives in a shed with a skank-ravaged skintag named Tonya.
