One of the things I really enjoy is people threatening to sue me.  That has happened so much the last few years, mostly from people who refuse to pay their bills and I take some action against.  They claim they’ll be suing me for defamation or some crap like that most of the time, not that I ever go talking about them to anyone except courts or police.  It costs me too much money to actually sue them and get nothing from it, so I just make the motions as necessary and let it be on the record.

     The particular asshat, however, doesn’t really have a dog in this fight.  I wasn’t trying to screw her over in any way, but since her asshat boyfriend felt it was okay to not show up to court, leaving me in a serious bind, I simply felt it was a good idea to stop allowing him to screw me out of $175 a month for all the sites he hosts on my server for the price of one.  And then he doesn’t pay his bill properly, at that.
     Her email was down for a grand total of four hours in the mess, and instead of either of them calling and asking that I turn them back or making any attempt to try and resolve the situation, she starts running her mouth.  Estrogen abuse!

     As I said, her email was down for a grand total of four hours and then I realzed, “Wait, she might actually need that, and it’s not her fault her boyfriend is a dick,” and I turned it back on.

     But apparently, even going that far wasn’t good enough.

     She’s threatening to go to the Better Business Bureau, having her father do the same (yeah, Asshat hosts sites for a bunch of his friends, on my servers, which I pay for, for free!), and then bitches and complains that if I don’t transfer all domains over to them by 12PM, worse things will happen.  Oh, if I don’t burn all their data to DVD and mail it to them by Monday, they’re going to sue me.

     Customers are responsible for their own data backups.  Asshat’s known that forever.  They have the data — they put it up there!  It ain’t like these are friggin’ dynamic, data-driven sites or anything!

     And her, she can’t even figure out how to do a Domain Transfer.

     Sorry, dear, but you don’t DEMAND anything of me.  If you’d asked nicely and either of you had even attempted to be civil, this would’ve turned out a lot different.

     So you people go ahead and go to the BBB — that requires that you were actually doing business with me, which you weren’t.  You all never paid for hosting, anyway.

     And go ahead and sue me — it’s so baseless, that I’d represent myself, and you’d still lose.

     As for the other allegations that I owe him money and crap like that?  You better take that up with your asshat boyfriend.  I don’t owe him a dime — he was paid up with interest and it’s easily proven.  And hey, when I did all that cooking, I bought half the ingredients.  How ’bout that?  And how many times have you people called me for help with everything from moving to car repair to even helping you two sort out your personal problems between each other, what did I do?  I was always right there.
     I asked for one friggin’ thing.  And waiting til the Zero Hour to back out like you both did — and maybe he didn’t bother to tell you, which is his fault, not mine — is pretty reprehensible.

     So much for being my “friends.”

“everyone I know
goes away
in the end…”
— Nine Inch Nails, Hurt

     When you know someone for twenty four friggin’ years, you expect them to show up in court to vouch that certain events happened when they were around two and half years ago.

     I think it’s a pathetic as Hell that at the Zero Hour, I’m told, “Nope, won’t be there.  Don’t worry about it!  You don’t need me there.”

     Yeah, I damn sure did, too.  It was “required” for my case, and I certainly appreciate the way you just cast me aside at the last minute, claiming I never gave you a date — which I certainly did two weeks ago, and then mentioned it again on Saturday.

     I really appreciate you.  That’s a Hell of a way to end a friendship.

     The Wildcat won’t be there, either, apparently.  But at least has somewhat a more reasonable excuse.

     Thursday night, my car all but died.  Friday morning, I was supposed to have a fix, but didn’t.  Friday afternoon, I was supposed to get picked up, but wasn’t.  Friday night, I was so stir crazy I couldn’t stand it. 

     Saturday morning, I was supposed to get a call to help with the car, but didn’t.  At 11AM, I decided, “Screw it, I’ll find someone with tools to help!”  And while he got the bolts out of from behind the exhaust manifold — and directly under the intake manifold — to change the thermostat, I removed and replaced the water pump.
     After all that, I started onto the process of body work where I hit the deer back in June…
     Now, the car is fixed.  As long as I leave the air conditioning on… which means, there’s obviously a temperature sending unit bad, since it’s not turning on the second radiator fan.
     I also managed to scald both my hands in process, get various cuts, and break the top of my right hand — it now has something akin to half a golf ball atop it, just like two months ago. 
     Only one word comes to mind: F#&$.

     And so, last night, stir crazy and exhausted, yet unable to sleep (two and a half months now), I went to walk around downtown.  At Market Square, I sat and reminisced about the days of old when Preservation Pub was Mercury Theater.  I thought about the Snakesnatch Lounge and all the other places that were there twelve-plus years ago.
     I thought about celebrating Pirate Susan’s birthday there in 2006, when she stood atop one of the benches near the door of Preservation Pub, arms outstretched, yelling, “I am an asshole bleacher!”

     But even more, I thought about the day the Wildcat and I went to Preservation Pub… QSL later… and that night… and that kinda did it for my mood, because I miss her more every day.

     A drink would’ve been in order, but I had to quit that after a few too many bad nights…

     Then I learned that last night, a friend of mine was sexually assaulted in her home by a “friend” of hers who she actually knew very little about.  Packed her kids in the car, drove them to a mutual friend to be watched and took her to the ER.  I prepped her a little beforehand about what was going to happen, having been through this with other friends I’ve known, and just pretty much tried to be there for her so she didn’t feel totally alone.
     Fortunately, the KPD investigator was really good, as was the crisis unit who performed her exams and tests.  They were pretty unbeatable, and I was out of the room most of the time — I didn’t need to be there the whole time, anyway, because it just makes me wanna kill someone that much more.

     She’s really young … and all I could think about the whole time was how bad I missed the Wildcat, how bad I missed the kids, how much they meant to me, and what I’d do to someone who tried something like that with any of them.

     Finally discharged, I took her to get some food after her battery of medication, fill another prescription and back to her place, where I stayed until her sister could get there.  I can handle the “crisis” portion calmly and capably, but for the rest… she’s gonna have a long road ahead.

     Sometimes, life is hard.

     And sometimes, other peoples’ are even harder.

     When I was much younger, a friend of mine — a customer — was married to this guy who used to beat the crap out of her pretty much on a daily basis.  I hated that guy … just because I felt he was a total pansy to beat on a woman like that.

     One day, I went over there working on their computers, and he delivered a fist to her face while she was sitting at the kitchen table, just a few feet away from me.  She fell on me.
     I beat his sorry ass.
     And guess what I got for the privilege?

     Yep …

     Her ass beating on me.

     A couple years later, I went over there, and he hit again.  Right in front of me.  But he didn’t stop there… He picked up an iron skillet and began beating her in the head over and over…

     While their kids watched…

     So I carried one of the kids to their bedroom and put him in his crib, and talked the other two into going to bed early.

     Then I proceeded to destroy his sorry ass.

     It was fun…

     Beat him within an inch of death, in fact.

     But then, I turned back to her, still struggling to get up off the kitchen floor.  I screamed at her for being so stupid.  And in retrospect, I shouldn’t have.
     But the questions I was screaming … How could she put her kids through that?  How could let them watch all of that?  What kind of mother was she?

     I called another friend of mine, who lived close, and together, we packed her stuff and drove her out of state to live with her mother.

     She hates me, still.

     And this is precisely why Cops don’t like taking Domestic Violence calls… Those women most always seem to defend the bastards who put them through the most Hell…

     But at some point, with a lot of caring and understanding, they do get over it.

     Or, at least, you hope they do.

     There was a little doubt cast about how much my Wildcat means to me.  It was said that I don’t mean what I say, that it’s all a cover, some sort of cruel joke.  That I’m actually some sort of lying bastard who’s running around cheating on her, because apparently that’s the way I’ve always been.
     I was dumbfounded that anyone could actually think such utter and baseless garbage, much less say it.  And I wanna clear up any misconceptions once and for all.

     I want everyone to know why I write very public, very personal things about my Wildcat.

     It is because…

     I want the entire world to know how beautiful she is.

     I want the entire world to know how much she means to me.

     I want the entire world to know how much I Love her.

     I want the entire world to know how special she is.

     She’s the only person who’s ever been able to heal me.

     She’s loved me exactly as I needed to be loved. 

     She’s shown me more happiness than I’ve ever known.

     Anyone who knows us has no doubts of that.

     Hell is being without her.

     Never having her again is something I won’t even imagine.

     She is my Angel, my Inspiration, my Strength.

     My Muse:

unworthy of your presence
unabated love
what you give me
is what god is made of

     She’s been more a wife to me than the one I was married to.

     The family that we have together is more my family than the one I was born into.

     Anyone who tries to get between will be shut out, because she means more to me than anything else in this world.  All the, “Sometimes love isn’t enough,” “Your happiness should not depend on anyone else,” and other such drivel — all from people who don’t know us, together — will be wasted.
     The fact is, she is my best friend, and there is no one more important in my life than her.  I have, and will, cast anyone else aside in favor of her, and I don’t give a damn how long I’ve known them.

     That’s just the way it is.

Lighthouse Family: Question of Faith

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_YSmSVcv7c)

Lighthouse Family: Happy

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YubwXXYcTvs)

     I would challenge anyone else to love each other as wholly and passionately as we love each other.

     I love her.  She makes me happy.

     And that is all that matters.

The Wildcat and the Volunteer are finally together.

Permanently.

I’m moving to Tennessee!

We really found out who our friends were at Mary Breckinridge Hospital — maybe two or three — and the rest can kiss our asses! In Knoxville, Mark’s friends became better friends than I ever had in Leslie County. When they ask you how you’re doing, they really mean it. And when they say they love you, they really mean it, too.

At this moment, we’re right where we need to be. We’re right where we belong. We’re soulmates. Right where God intended us to be, and nobody can keep us apart.

Mark, I love you with all my heart. I’ve never met anyone who’d fight this hard for me. You proved it… you proved your love. Because you stuck by me when no one else would, you showed things that no one else ever has. Your showed me what true love is.

And for that, all I can do is return that and say, thank you so much. 

Kenny Chesney: Better as Memory

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QBgNbSA4WdM)

But he finally met somebody he can’t just be a memory to.

Oh, baby… I love you.

Always.

So to all the ladies before me, thank you for moving over so the Wildcat could move in!

     Not according to tonight…

     Hope can be a very fragile thing. 

     I love my Wildcat.  I wear this ring for her.  I talk incessantly, to no end, to everyone around me, about the woman who I love more than anything this world. 
     “Mark, why don’t you go get her?”
     “I don’t know where she is…”

     People need to stop getting in the way. 

     Let us be us.

     Outside influence doesn’t help anyone or anything.

     But one thing’s certain, baby: there’re a lot of people rooting for you here.  You need to know that, because I’m not sure you realize it.  They love you, and they love us together.  We have friends here.

     I miss my Wildcat.

     It’s kinda like this … Love the emotion, love the lyrics, and sometimes, it’s sorta pertinent.

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qtf-JeaNM8)

      But I hate hate the makeup.  It’s not the 60’s anymore, and you don’t have to turn tricks.  It ain’t the 70’s anymore, and you don’t need a gimmick.  It’s not the 80’s anymore, and you know how to kick Trent’s ass.  The 90’s were just a bunch of “alternative” that all sounded the same.
     Believe what you write, believe in what you do.  That’s what’ll make me like you a little more.

     I mean, Jesus, sorry you smacked your girlfriend when you were drunk.  You poor bastard.  Wonder how she feels?

     Yeah, yeah… I know, you’d hate to see my enemies.  Well, I usually just wait for Karma to kick them in the ass.  I mean, if I didn’t plan out a way for something cool to work and have it turned into another thing to blow them up already, anyway.
     That’s blood on my hands.

     Got any songs for that?

     Dude, you drank.  You were an asshole.

     Get over it.

     Mind you, it’s a brilliant song.  It’s where you meet someone in a lonely world and you want spend you entire life with them, yet….

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ldq-efmOhfw)

     You still might.  Go figure.  *shrug*

     Keep it up, tho.  And if you do, you’ll have more friends that Trent Reznor. That’s Life.

     And Mikey will still like it….