Me. Laughing at me. Try it.
I don’t need anyone to “make” me whatever it is I am. I live within my body as we all do, but I am lucky as I like being alone.
Me. I am adopted. I spent a month in an incubator as I weighed three pounds, I attribute this to attachment syndrome which I may or may not have, not good when young, just fine now. Maybe, who knows.
I was dyslexic, six feet tall by the time I was 13, red haired, and had some kind of photographic memory. Couple that with our parents giving us our own bottles of Turpin Hydrate whenever we had a childhood disease and so we have a lot of probable “false memories”.
I am neither beautiful nor ugly, usually now I am happy that someone hasn’t walked up and asked me if I’ve “always” been a woman. One day at the Capitol, I had on high heels and looked great, men were staring at me and I thought I “still had it”, when they suddenly lost interest as I walked into the LADIES RESTROOM.
I can laugh at myself and most of you cannot. I have done some stupid stuff, happily, not in Texas.
Oh, someone said I was getting “rich” off my blog. That’s funny, if I had money someone would sue me for it for sure so that’s cool. I was an orphan, never had money, Vic and I had money for a while, thirty years ago, I live on Social Security, I am 76 and who do I think I am? I actually don’t think about it much. I am not a Narcissist.
I am quite used to people not liking me and when they do it’s rather disconcerting.
Let’s call this next thing, “YOU AIN’T SHIT”.
I was taken out of a restaurant by FBI agents with my four year old son.
My husband was on CNN every 18 minutes for three days.
I was served a Grand Jury Federal Subpoena for my fingerprints when I was accused of the attempted murder of a Federal Judge. That Judge was the later, Groping Judge, Walter Smith.
I lost 4 pounds in two days over that and, believe me, no one noticed. I never missed a beat.
Having somewhat a sixth sense, I knew my very loved son was going to die. Heroin ends one of two ways. Since my son was punished by law enforcement every time he got in trouble because of who his father was, after a few stints in Texas rehabs, we moved to Mexico. Rehab cheaper and they kept him longer. We lost him in 2019.
If he were still here they would try to reach me through him, that’s what they do because they’re chickenshits. They will try to mess up your grandson with their grandson because of some bullshit in 1945.
I am probably not the kind of person to be with someone else. At least I know it.
Who am I?
I am a no one that was happy when her blog reached 400 people a day. Now, like it or not, I will hit 2,000,000 in April. That’s computer clicks only WordPress doesn’t calculate the phone clicks. So you can multiply that by about 4. I am sure my English Teacher, Ruth Mantor, is rolling in her grave that I am her biggest success, but, I am.
You have a choice, read me or not, I don’t care, I have a fan club in Indonesia so you ain’t shit.
I think it’s all funny. Quirky. Or, you fall into just boring and easy to hurt because you are whatever Classic there is. Classic lonely, guilt ridden, fat, Narcissist, but mainly you take yourselves very seriously because you think you have God and I don’t and that’s where we’re at.
Me. I had to remember Walter accusing me of shooting at him … and missing.
You, ain’t shit.
Bern and Harry
The Groping Judge, Walter Smith, $250K for life, three wives. He can’t laugh at himself either.
