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In matters concerning myself, it's become quite apparent to me that when someone else offers to do something, generally, they're not going to. What's really happening is the other person offers meaningless platitudes and empty promises. Despite all the bullshit that's happened physically, medically, and psychologically, it's going to be an uphill battle to get anything done in a timely manner when someone else is involved. This is just how it's going to be until I decide whether or not I really want to stick things out and make it through the now.



Unless you're going to follow through, don't waste my goddamn time.



Do it, don't say it.

Before we begin, #idgaf isn't indicative of a hashtag, it's the number of times I might actually care what anyone who reads my drivel thinks, if not giving a fuck was actually a number.



Where I'm currently moving my stuff out of, there's... there's no nice way of saying it; Effectively, it's a gigantic shithole, run with mismanagement, along with other things. But before I move along and actually focus my inner vitriolic rage at the keyboard, appropriately doling out what I deem necessary at WHOM I deem necessary, I will point out that while I'm not entirely blameless about the current state of affairs, I am NOT to blame for the rest. Other than that particular piece, there's not much else to discuss.



However, leading into the second situation, even though you'll never read this because you're a technological luddite who runs her mouth at 96 years of age, let's get down to brass tacks and chipped teeth, shall we? I'll begin at the starting line, and end at our current juncture, of which, I believe is a bridge that I'll never have the misfortune of needing to cross ever again.



First and foremost, you have no idea who I'm actually related to. When you had your "friend" look up information online. What neither of you considered is the fact that the connections that were "made", bore little relevancy anyways, since the names that were given of alleged bad seeds were only by last name. Not by blood. The fact my mother's name NEVER came up only proves that you like to dig shit up where there is none to be found. You, and your alleged "friend" (there's a reason I use quotation marks), have been wrong not only on WHO I'm related to, and who I keep as company, but also on a lot of details of my personal life that were completely out of touch with reality.



In fact, at that point, I realized you were completely out of touch with reality itself when the question arose, "How do you know he's not a serial killer?"



Really? I'll put this into perspective. I would be more concerned with someone who alienates their own blood to the point where they want nothing to do with them than I would an individual who generally greets hostility and negativity with laughter, pushback AND resolve. All of which is something you quite apparently lack, even if you see no problems with your actions and how it affects everyone around you.



I'm not going to help you, even though the offer was there, and I even offered to bury the hatchet. Instead, you decide that running your mouth a little more is your best course of action.



Considering your "friend" IS probably the individual who stole money out of your house, it should be no mystery, despite the fact I don't approve of stealing, especially from the elderly. But you know something, judging by your treatment (and hilariously incorrect assumptions) of me, I can only imagine the torment that she might have gone through. Even better, I can guess what MOST of those phrases started off, without needing rote memorization.



"And another thing..."

"You know them black people..."

"Well..."



So not only are you selectively senile, socially inept (no real surprise given YOUR work history), racist AND homophobic. And somehow, I'm the one that needs to find Jesus.



Fat.

Fucking.

Chance.

Cuntbag.



While I'm wholly aware that you'll never read this, the reason I'm doing this is to get things off my chest. To remind myself in the future not to associate with such individuals. Despite all of this, you claim to have positive, uplifting attributes. I can assure you that you do not, and I do have overwhelming evidence to back my claims, if it ever came to being summoned in a court of law.



You're just lying to yourself, and hoping that someone believes your crap just long enough to vicariously fill your own shortcomings with passing chatter, despite generally being the same individuals who steal from you, or who you piss off enough that they refuse to help you for ANY amount of monetary compensation. How do I know this? Because your daughter tells me these things, and I've also watched the aftermath first-fucking-hand.



I'm not the bad guy, and I'll be damned if you try to make me out to BE the "bad guy". This is why when I left earlier this evening, I shouted loud enough so all three of you could hear it while sitting inside the comfort of your own piss-complected citadel of psychological pain and social destitution:



May you die alone.