Back in Gloomy Town

You wouldn't  believe my rotten luck -- another one of Fucktard's family member is getting hitched in the next months to come. And where else would it be, but somewhere in this land very very near the US of A.  I'm sure you know which country I am referring to.

These guys are really spending moolah like it would be extinct tomorrow.  And of course, the entire fucking, asshole clan WILL HAVE to attend.  Read: Pressure.

But I already told Fucky that I CANNOT GO.  I have my work, and my darling daughter has a commitment she absolutely, and definitely, cannot, in all her life, miss.

Magically, and perhaps because Fucky is feeling that he himself is getting nauseous over his family's flair for too much style and moolah flaunting -- he agreed that we won't go.  Verrrrrrry good!  I give my fucking husband a perfect 10.  These are just one of those very few moments in my marital life that Fucktard pleased me.

Fucky's ugly niece will be the flower girl again.  My darling dottie is mad ang angry because not one soul from our family was given a part in the wedding. AGAIN.  Hello!!!!  Can I hear favoritism here????!!!!  Well fuck them all, they can all die and rot in hell, together with their stinking money, hahahah! (And more evil laugh when they all get cancer).

I have got so much news to share, but work has tied me down after the holidays, so I haven't been sharing my life's bitter stories here.

An update about that after-Christmas wedding last December was comparable to any royalty's wedding, or even more.  No kidding here: seven hairdressers/stylists housed and flown in from the city where I come from.  four deluxe hotels blocked-off to accommodate the guests, both local and foreign. The country's top notch photographer and videographer were hired.  I'm talking two entities there, okay.  Flowers from this top flower shop located in my country's most prime business district.  A huge welcome beach bag for all guests which included: European perfumes and colognes, chocolates from Europe again, chips from the US, lotion, sunblock, name it, the bag has it.  And a map on what to do in that prime beach resort island get-away.  I am pretty sure I missed out something somewhere in this story post.  No amount of words to describe what transpired there will give justice to all that they had.  Imported wine and cocktail drinks overflowed.  A fire dance to wow the guests was also included.  Of course the quintessential fireworks show was not also missed.  Even the priest was flown in -- a personal friend of theirs, I was informed.  A shuttle to bring the guests to and from the island was hired too.  Everything, to show how fine their tastes were.  The giveaway was a $38.00 item from Spain.  Okay, I checked the site where they ordered in bulk, and that confirmed the puking price. Sorry but I refuse to divulge what they gave.  I am getting too close to the enemy here, I guess.  Don't want to be caught with my pen's ink dripping too much.  Convert that dollar amount to my local exchange rate, and you get a whooping Ps.1643.00 each.  There were 500++ guests, and each, and I mean each one, M, F, or in-between, got one giveaway to take home.  Talk about spending that much!

And dottie and myself stayed at home.  To eat, sleep, watch videos, read, and just plain shit them all out.  I must admit, we were happy when the boys were not home with us.  No one trashed the toilet.  No one left the toilet seat up.  No one messed up the beds.  And I could mention a billion of things why my daughter and I were having a blast partying on our own here.  Even the dog was happy, I swear!

So back to reality, which bites, bigtime.  Another fucking wedding is going to happen.  Well all I can give them for now, is my little, 30-something middle finger sticking out solo and fresh from my butt hole.

To this family who I unwillingly cannot embrace as my own since several years ago:  FUCK YOU ALL, ASS HOLES.

And to my husband, who stuck with me this time -- I'll add you back in Facebook, sweetie.