Sunday, December 21, 2014

Wanted New Husband


For the past weeks, you have been going out with your high school friends again.  And not even one party or gathering can keep all of you satisfied.  I hate that you are connected again with your girl friends -- the same ones who, back in college, wished to see you with their own pet candidate.

Not one of these girl friends of yours can even ask how I am because I know they all hate me for my guts in standing up for myself back then.  I will not forget the days when I used to receive anonymous hate letters from them taped on the windshield of my car, telling me that I should stay away from you, and that I am so white and pale or yellow-skinned, and that this girl "pet" of theirs is more fit to be with you.

I have endured so much, and then now that your high school batch is celebrating their nth year homecoming, all have resurrected once more, and I have seen your pictures with them in social media sites, you, posing too close for comfort with them, and one, even pressing her breasts on your chest.

Upon waking up this morning, I find that you are not at home -- and being a Saturday, I wonder where you are, and you have not even bothered to tell me before leaving about your whereabouts.  I hate to be treated this way.  I wish my parents left me with a house to call my own before they migrated to the States.  I wish I joined them many years ago, rather than chose to finish up my studies here.

I hate that every time you see your friends, you have to kiss them all one by one, and that I can see in social media sites that even though most, if not all of you are married, you still manage to tease each and every one with old flames, sweethearts from the past, and that no one cares about how present/current wives or husbands would feel in case we would see those pictures.  I HATE YOU, and all those who have been in and out of your life since high school and college.

I wish I married someone else who would treat me like a queen, someone who could give me what I need or want, even without telling.  I envy most of my friends, whose husbands are fantastic ones.  I hate when I see friends who brag on Facebook about how their husbands have bought them sweet things, or brought them out to wonderful places, or those who date their wives out every week.

I wish I married someone else.  I don't have anyone else to talk to in this house except for my daughter who understands me, and who is my sounding board everyday.  She is my only blessing.  My son, is very busy with so many things school and out of school related, and he somehow tends to favor his dad more.  Life is kind of fair in this area because at least, I have my daughter who shares the same sentiments with me.  My daughter can see how her dad treats me like nothing in this house, and how he ignores me every time -- especially that he has put up a new and successful business, and his clients are numerous.  My husband is like a chick magnet at times, and perhaps due to the fact that he is sweeter and kinder, and more thoughtful to other women, he tends to get all the women's attention.

I want to scream and post 'WANTED NEW HUSBAND".  All I want and need is to be treated like a queen, is that too much to ask from a husband?

I've had so many readers in this blog, but I have not been read or left a message, by a husband.  I wish too, that someday, a good husband could read this, and leave a comment that would enlighten me, and who would, tell me, from a man's point of view, that indeed, my husband is a big Fucktard.

If only I could bring back time, I would.  I wish....  I wish....  I wish...

I told my daughter once, that when I die  I will haunt my Fucktard and scare the wits out of him every night.  I will torture him, and scare him until his hair falls off one by one.

The photo I used is one wish I intend to fufill no matter what.

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Thank you, Mariel Clayton, for the photo I used.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Hello Again and Thanks!


Hello, and long time no see again, husband haters!

I managed to retrieve my pw in this blog of mine -- I guess I've been struck with a bit of a senior moment here, forgetting what my pw is -- and all because I've been maintaining so many blogs to date.

Thank you to those marvelous people who left messages here (and as I log into this account, found 8 peeps), whose posts I have approved and published only today -- and after sending them several months ago.  I apologize for not checking in earlier.

Most of the time, I wish I had an electronic device taped into my hands so I could post anytime, any day.  Sadly, when Fucktard pisses me off, I am usually out of reach of a device, and so I end up writing my gripes on cryptic notes, random little sheets of paper I keep in my bag, which, I end up taping on my trusty old journal.  I couldn't type away on my cellphone for fear that someone might see or read it.

So anyway, I'd like to thank those who keep sending me messages here and truly gain comfort and solace from those who share the same sentiment as I do.  Let's continue to bash our shitty husbands even through cyberspace, and throw steam when we can.

Funny, because even in the spirit of Thanksgiving (which we do not really celebrate in my home country, but which, I do, in my heart), I can still manage to kick some ass here.  Thanks to all of you, readers.

High Fives!

Sunday, April 13, 2014

I Really Hate You


Once again you left me crying alone.  Every time I cry because of you, you leave me to lick my own wounds.  All the more I feel that I want to leave you.  If not for my children, I would have left you long ago.

I could not even take it that when you see my heart broken because of you, you manage to sleep on me.  I hate you, and if I could live my life all over again, I would have chosen to take another man instead of you.  Sadly, I cannot turn back time, and have to live with you for the rest of my life.

My parents were not wise enough to leave me with a property I can run or go to whenever I feel like leaving you.  So now I am stuck here in this house with you.  I hate you.  I truly, really, superbly hate you.