Some stories...

         I'd like to share some stories of my life with everyone. I was born in Hot Springs, AR. Since we are known for our foul language, it expected that my vocabulary would start off 4 letters at a time. When I was young I always thought Son of a bitch was one full word that was just a curse word. I didn't learn until 4th grade about this! Well also my mother was very mean to me, she would always slap me when I was a toddler, probably because of my mouth. So here's one good story about that time frame.

       My mother had left me at home with my grandfather who was in town for the race season. He had a few horses running and he came and stayed to see his only grandchild at the time. While my mother was out I would color and draw (more like scribble) on paper that my father brought home from work. My grandfather asked why I wasn't drawing on the walls. "Well mom would be mad at me if I did," I answered shyly to him. "Well your mom isn't here, and Grandpa Tom said you could." So with glee I got up to draw all the prettiest thing on the walls. Oh we had such a good time. Well he made some dinner and my mother came home to find all the nice pictures I drew for her.  Well needless to say now, she beat the ever loving SHIT out of me...and then sent me to bed with no supper. So after I cry myself to sleep I'm sure my grandfather said he had no idea about me drawing on the walls. That asshole. Well after they eat and visit for a while my mother went to the restrooom. Only to find even more nice scribbles! So she calmly (as one can in this situation) went to my room, opened the door, YANKED ME OUT OF BED AND BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ME SOME MORE. And put me right back into bed...no words, nothing. Just beating. She used to spank me with a butcher knife, so if I moved, I'd get cut.  So now you know about my mother, she can strike any time, anywhere. 

      Sorry to jump way ahead, but here's a story I've been dying to share since high school. My mother always had life insurance on me. I knew she wanted me dead when she made us fly to Orlando. I didn't want to. I was so scared. No one helped me out any. Not like those fucking movies and TV shows. Oh no. Just, stick your head between your legs. And I knew she planned it so we'd hit thunder storms over Atlanta, oh knew it. She wanted me dead, I could just feel it. Trying to put me on the rides at the theme parks. I hate roller coasters! I could imagine her sitting there counting down til my heart burst from fear.  I know she would pick the phone right up and call to collect just prior to me hitting the floor.

       So yeah, I'm sick today and can't think of anything else to write...