Mind Dump and Well it’s Been a LONG 24 Hours To Say The Least…

OK
Well THIS has been a three-ring-Circus From Hell

I mean where to begin? I’ve been in ‘mission “on” mode’ now for whazzat? 24 hours, no sleep, 2x Adderall for funsies and a couple of Monsters for good luck?

Oh yeah baby!

The drama as it were started on Monday night.
Gretchen had gone to work at the Woman’s Prison (her job is as a C.O. which paid better than the People’s Tractor Factory for damned sure!) and came home to her parents where she’s been living since our separation. She got in early. Since she was unexpected, she popped into her daughter’s room for a surprise inspection so to speak, only to smell a stronk odor of weed.

Now since our separation, I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but I may/may not have, there was a BIG change in her/her daughter’s and G’s lives… See, DC was getting up to her usual misbehavioral shenanigan’s to which I told everyone involved, “I you so!” (that THIS was going to happen) and “Not my circus, not my monkeys!” and proceeded to buy moar guns and take more trips all over CONUS.

<Le Sigh>

The days of wine and roses.

And yet, both Gretchen and I maintained a civil repartee, as I’m not a totally callous asshole. She started coming around to pick up stuff, and I could see she was frazzled, and hey, Stella (despite previous injury) fucking loved having her back… the “Pack” being back as it were. Even Sapper was relatively cool w/the situation. So we didn’t get funky, but I did let her retreat and recover from the slings and arrows of her demented (literally unfortunately) parental units, and her fucking luna-chick daughter.

As said-shenanigans were leading to a eviction.
Meh
Like I said, not my monkeys, and was happy for it.

The response to the (potential) eviction was for her (DC) to go out and get rando-inseminated by who-the-fuck-knows. Like literally. No father on the birth certificate. A baby made out of necessity to avoid homelessness… she never gave a fuck about the first two kids, so why should she care about this one?

DC preggers?

I told Gretchen, “Rots O’Ruck Raggy” and peaced out on that shit.

Circus \neq Monkeys again. (does not equal if the symbol failed to show.)

So the kid was born in December. A baby Boy

Roly Poly fatboi that I could tell, good natured, all that jazz.
I will give that fucking whore one bit of credit, she makes correction, MADE great kids. Otherwise? Whoooooo-eeeeee….

So cut back to this week
Seems she was smoking a weed-vape in the room, while the kid was in there. G, of course went bananas. Took away all her vapes, threatened to call CPS… the usual shit that’d happened at least 6-7 times before. Not that I cared one way or another, except to tell G multiple times that the BIGGEST cause of our separation was her constant need to salvage the unsalvageable.

I told her, the bitch or me, and well…

Guess I won by default as it were.
Not sure if this’s a win to a point… anyways…

So, Monday, DC was stewing and ‘saving up spit’
I warned G to watch her back…
I had a feeling, although I was wrong on the ‘how’ of it

Tuesday things seemed back to normal
G got home, went in to talk to Mom and Dad after a day of working in the Prison (lots of fun stories there that I’ve heard… they have her on the ‘badass’ ward with serial killers and whatnot ‘cos she’s a big ole amazonian bitch) and while talking, DC asked for her weed vapes back

G of course told her not just “No” but “HELL No with bells on”

This’s when it went full retard
DC snapped, jumped G, started beating on her.
Mom tried to intervene (stupid AF as she’s like 82) and she got scrummed by DC. All Hell broke loose, Dad called the cops, and DC ran out of the room. G and Mom pursued her, when she stopped at the front door, whipped out G’s .357 and well…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

To Infinity and Beyond I suppose.

I got the call at 21:00+/-
Had to have Sapper drive me up there as I’d already self-lubricated. Punched out the quick update, and then got the ball rolling on the other aspects of shit that needs to be handled in an emergency. First thing I did was call a Casualty Cleanup Company… told the old man his insurance would cover it. In Florida, when -something- untoward like this happens, if you don’t have a professional clean up happen, the house can’t be sold… there’s a metric fuckton of issues…

So I made a ‘dinner reservation for one’ so to speak.

TBH, it was a lot like that…

Dude was a 20yr retired Vet w/a Graves Registration background. Except his name is Dave.

Dave showed up, and checked things out…
Surprisingly, no major exit wound…
Still horrific but I can say without a doubt that the Hornady 158gn XTP hollow points work as advertised, without -any- overpenetration.

Dave and I went over the scene last night, and he was as surprised as I was, as he told me, when he heard it was a .357, he was all “This’s gonna suck….” until he did the walkthrough w/me. I’ll leave it at that… he was an absolute professional in dealing with G and her ‘rents, but was cool with me when he realized this wasn’t the first ‘elephant’ I’ve seen…

LOTS of seriously inappropriate humor

What else am I supposed to do?
Act all somber and shit?

They did the cleanup at oh-dark early in the AM, and then we had to fend of the nosey fucking neighbors, all who wanted to see wtf had happened. During this I started getting other shit in place to get us the fuck out of the house as I knew G wasn’t doing well mentally with replaying the scene over and over.

PTSD is real man…

Add on Baby Buddha needed full time care.
Yeah… I’m torn between calling him Buddha (chubby boi) or Mountain Man Muldoon… he’s a BIG fucking kid. Part of the problem was DC tended to just shove a bottle in his gob anytime he cried rather than be a mother, so at 4 months, he’s like 22 pounds. He IS big but he’s also fat-fat-fat.

Add on CPS showed up to do ANOTHER full recap of the story, and thankfully, they gave G (and by way of her) me custody. We have to do paperwork, but that’s depending on how long the death certificate takes (I’ve been told up to three weeks for the paper-yeah-it’s-a-stiff-confirmation… fucking bureaucrats)

Same goes for getting my .357 back.

So now…
Home
With Beer.
I managed to pack up ALL the baby-stuff and move it in one trip, and reestablish here, for now, as I couldn’t handle the filth, the parental insanity, and seeing that haunted look on G’s face.

Lord knows I had plenty of practice with Adriana.
And in this case, there ain’t no babydaddy

When I say he was a rando, even DC had NO IDEA who the dad was, so like I said, the birth certificate is blank under “father”. This puzzled and perplexed the CPS kid when I had to explain that in order to –try- and track down who the potential father was, they’d have to roll the clock back to February/March of last year, get a subpoena for her tinder, onlyfans, who the fuck knows what “Dating” App, and then sort through the myriads of potential babydaddies… I told him the same “Rots O Ruck Chuck” and so, it looks like this’ll be uncontested.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I’ll unpack more random factoids as I remember them… I appreciate all the kind words and shit… TBH, I just feel a sense of relief right now… and I think G does too…
Pretty fucked up to a point Aye?

So More Later
I remain, Insane in The Memebrane (yes, that’s intentional)
Big Country

$$