Midsummer Day 2009

Wednesday, Jun. 24, 2009 - 1:55 a.m.

Well, only a few more days until my fair city is beset by the participants and spectators for the Pride events.

Despite the traffic and the crowds -- I *LOVE* this time of year!!!! I love this CITY when it's so full of the most amazing segment of society of all.

Now all I have to do is run between the rainbows, as it were, and get to the Ferry Building in time to make the 12:40 on Sunday.

That's the day of the biggest parade, so I am planning to wake up my darling so we can get into the car and have at least ninety minutes to get across town.

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Yesterday I had a really interesting albeit woefully brief visit with Scott in chat.

Due to recent events, I ran a few things past him for a reality check, and he was pretty insightful.

Something Scott said really hit home:

There was a study done a few years back that certain emotional states have the same chemical effect on the body that some narcotic drugs do.�Emotions like indignation and self-pity actually trip certain hormonal triggers and become literally addictive.

This was kind of an epiphany for me. I finally understood with this recent situation that no matter how much assistance my husband and I provided -- nothing we said or did was really going to make enough of a difference to matter.

Some people are not letting this dead horse rest, so I'd like to address this here and now and once and for all, and make sure there is a crystal-clear understanding about a few things.

I just received an email from the now and forever ex-friend, accusing me of 'kicking him when he's down'.

How interesting a phrase is that? Let's just open up the chat logs and the financial ledger and see what rotten evil people me and my 'fucking wetback' husband have been to him.

Well, gee. Fifty dollars worth of phone minutes from my husband. Seventy dollars worth of shoes and clothing that was suitable for job interviews. A haircut. Coffees at Starbucks whenever I was well enough to make the walk. A home address to which he could have his laptop mailed after it had been recovered by the police. And literally HOURS of advice, ALL of which was asked for, and since he didn't find it to his liking, almost NONE of it was taken.

By golly, he's right! Boy oh boy, those numbers and actions sure add up, don't they? It's so plain to see that I and my fucking wetback husband really went to extra special lengths to keep Art down.

As far as my husband is concerned, there is no more room for discussion.

From "I can be a real racist sometimes" to "Lord make me an instrument of thy peace" in just a few short days? I'll believe it when I see it. But I am saying here and now that being accused of kicking Art when he is down is a new low, even for him. It is a COMPLETE FUCKING LIE, and had it been said in a public place, would have gotten that asshole sued for slander.

John is very angry. In fact, I haven't seen my fucking wetback husband this mad since the antics of the Erasure Impostor came to light.

But the impostor was a person we never actually saw in real life.

That's why the racial hatred and the personal accusations in the email from Art, my NOW EX FRIEND, are cutting so deeply here.

Art is a real person that I used to help and root for. But my FUCKING WETBACK husband and I have been driven away by his hatred of minorities.

Whether it's the 'buck toothed' blacks who he feels are 'sticking it to whitey', or the transgenders who completely disappear from the bent and rusted components of his compassion radar ("a man should be a man and a woman should be a woman and that's that"), there is hatred coming off of my ex-friend in waves.

Kicking him when he's down. Yeah, right. No, actually I think the phrase here is actually "Good riddance to bad rubbish."

If Art or any of his gaggle of minions try to harangue me in ANY way about what I've written here, believe you me, you'll hear about it.

Do yourselves a favor, dearies. Stay the fuck away from me until forever has passed. And then stay away some more.

That's it. Survive your Wednesday.

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