If you ever feel bad just remeber there is a gif of me floating around tumblr of when I was 8 and I sat on the escalator and knocked down a table of jewelry at macys
Nice shades, anon.
Next time say that without hiding behind anonymity.
Let me tell you about my father.
My biological father.
He is not a good man.
This is going to get personal, very personal. And very long.
Read on with caution. If you don’t want to read, sorry, but get ready to scroll really quickly because this is a long one.
Let me give you some backstory about my life and my father.
When my mother was pregnant with me, my biological father would make her commute home from her job hours away. She worked up until she went into labour, then went back to work as soon as she could.
When I was a baby, my biological father would apparently leave me in my crib for hours while he went rock climbing while my mom was working her ass off to support a new family. She only found out about this after our neighbor called her and told her that he had been leaving me and that they could hear me crying (this was quite a while after it had been continually happening).
When I was a child, and my brother a toddler, he was fired by almost every job he got for his dishonesty. After being fired from a Smiths, he stole a money bag that had been left out for a second to be transferred to deposit. Did he use that to support his struggling family? Why would he do that? He went golfing. My mom only confronted him once she noticed that he was getting extremely tan. That’s when he told her he had in fact been fired again and had stolen money, and had been using that money to go golfing.
Also when I was a child, he would again leave me and my very young brother alone for hours to go do whatever the hell he was doing. (I would found out later that his “doings” involved gambling away my mother’s money, affairs, and likely recreational drugs.) He’d put up a child gate, give us some crackers and bottled water, turn on the tv and leave us all day. Unattended. We weren’t stupid children. My brother and I would cycle through all of our VHSs weekly, and it was a big collection. I knew how to get past the gate. I had to take care of my younger brother, so I did. I was a child. But I took care of him. When he would come home he would instantly turn on the sports channel and go to sleep. One time my brother fell off his bunk bed and broke his arm. Badly. Like bending the wrong way 90 degrees half way between his wrist and his elbow badly. I had to wake my father by shaking him and tell him what happened, because the screams of my brother were not even enough to wake him. He then swore at me and rushed us to the hospital, blaming me for not keeping a better eye on him.
My whole childhood he verbally abused my mother in front of me. I found out later he physically abused her behind closed doors. My mother is an amazingly strong woman. She had to support us her whole life, and she has done one hell of a fine job doing it alone.
When he got my mom got pregnant, she knew she could not raise a child in the same environment as him and kicked him out. She kept her pregnancy a secret for as long as she could, and then when she told him, his instant reaction was that she must abort the baby. He wouldn’t have “another mouth to support”. When she stood up to him and said no, he and his entire side of the family tried to blackmail her into aborting my brother.My mom remained strong though, and worked her heavily pregnant ass off the support a family as a single mother.
Once my parents were divorced, my father was supposed to care for us every other weekend and Wednesday nights. For about a year my brother and I would go to my grandma’s house (he lived in her basement) for these every other weekends and Wednesday nights, only to go home because he usually wasn’t there.
However, one of my most vivid memories is of one weekend he actually was there. When my brother and I were older, I was probably 10 and he was probably 8, he took us on a “trip” to Idaho one 3-day weekend that he was granted to have with us. For one, he was never supposed to take us out of state. We spent the nights sleeping in his car (which had doors that did not lock) on the side of the road. For 2 of the days he took us to a small resort in the middle of no-where Idaho for a frisbee golf tournament, and then left my 10 year old self and 8 year old brother alone and unattended for 10 hours for 2 days. I still have vivid memories of this. Prior to this, he bought us 10 Wendy’s BLTs and left them in the dash of his car for if we got hungry. Early on, my brother wandered off. I remember worrying out of my mind the first day because I could not find him. I found out later that my father had at least entered him into a child tournament, and one of the supervisors of that had been keeping an eye on him because he had seen him walking around alone and thankfully had been worried about a lone 8 year old wandering about. I had no idea at the time though. I was 10 fucking years old. I was worried sick. I spent almost that whole time in one of the wildlife shops reading the books they had and talking to the old man without an arm behind the counter that looked like Santa. His name was Phil. He lost his arm in a hunting accident when a tree fell on him. He killed the grizzly bear that was hanging on the wall. He had named it Greg. That’s when I first learned the difference between black bears and grizzly bears. He also taught me how to how to tie a bunch of different knots. It wasn’t open the whole time though, and I had to leave the store though when it closed for lunch and at closing. I still had to spend like 4 hours wandering around. I was 10 years old. Can you imagine what could have happened? I tried watching a DVD in his car (it was the second Shiloh movie) but it died before I could even hit play on the menu. I kept occupied. Worried if my 8 year old brother had been kidnapped. I drew some stuff. Worried if my 8 year old brother had been kidnapped. I walked around the woods. Worried if my 8 year old brother had been kidnapped. I looked for my brother. And what’s worse, I had no way to contact anyone if something went wrong.
Then on the end of second day he took us to some cool hot springs, spent the night (in the car) then some lava pits/caves (there was a complete calf skeleton in one), then home.
My mother had no idea until she asked us what we did that weekend. Being the mother of a newborn baby and being completely in the dark about what had happened, she wasn’t happy.
Then one November, he got me the Heroes Season 1 set. Guess what? That Christmas, he got me nothing. He told me that those DVDs a month earlier were my Christmas gift. I had to watch my brother open 1 gift (a remote control helicopter) and my cousins open a slew of Chirstmas gifts from their parents while I just sat there. My grandma didn’t get me anything either, assuming he would. When she found me crying later that day she went out and got me a fucking clearance Cinderella dvd and some pink socks from Smiths. (I have never been into princesses or pink stuff.) I was fucking 11 years old. That January, my birthday, you know what the fucker did? He told me that the Heroes DVD was my birthday present too. My grandma heard him and hurried and gave me an old stuffed animal. Whoopee. A few weeks later I got mad and told him he was “cheap”. Literally, all I did was yell at him that he was cheap, I’m pretty sure my words were, “You are so freaking cheap!!” And I walked the mile home.
The next weekend when we were just about to leave to go to his house, he called my mom. She didn’t want to talk to him and per usual just assumed he wanted to talk to us so she handed me the phone. He told me that I shouldn’t come over to his house ever again and that he never wanted to see me again and hung up. I was 11. I was completely stunned. I just kind of handed my mom her phone and sat on the stairs. I didn’t cry. I just sat down, then told my mom what had happened.
From that point on in my life I have had no further communication with him.
Honestly, I’ve only seen him twice in my almost 9 years of avoiding him, both just passing him in his truck. He still lives in his mothers basement a mile away from us.
I have watched my mom struggle as a a single mother, student, employee, and community member. And let me tell you, she has done AMAZING.
She isn’t perfect, but she has be her absolute best.
Now, biological father is suing her because he committed tax fraud and was caught.
Now, biological father is suing my mother because he committed tax fraud and was caught.
Basically, the agreement in the divorce papers is that if he is caught up in all of his child support expenses then he gets to claim two of us every other year for tax exemptions. (On off years he would claim 1 of us.) The first year of the divorce he was not current, but my mom let him claim one of us anyways. Instead, he claimed all three of us.
And he has been claiming all three of us every year since.
This year the government finally caught him.
So what is the logical next step for him to do? Pay the difference his fraud has amounted to?
Of course not. That would be far too honest for a man like him.
So he and his scumbag crook of a friend (who is also an attorney) file a claim that my mom owes him $4,000 because she never explained to him the process to claim the exemptions for taxes.
HE IS A GROWN ASS 53 YEAR OLD MAN.
That was 7 months ago. 7 months have passed. My mom and her attorney have done everything correctly. She even submitted bank statements showing that he was behind on child support on every year in question.
But then my biological fathers attorney didn’t gather any evidence during the 15 days given and allowed to gather evidence. No, of course not. He didn’t even ask the bank for any bank statements until 4 MONTHS LATER. Then, he submits a new claim that my mom has committed perjury because somehow he got bank statement from all of her bank accounts for every transaction she has ever made, and he is saying that all her spending (ON MOSTLY THINGS NEEDED FOR LIFE) is evidence that my biological father has been overpaying!!
My biological father HAS NEVER been one to pay anything on time or willingly, LET ALONE OVER PAY SOMETHING. As a child I would watch my mom stress about how she was going to make ends meet because he still hadn’t paid, and then she’d have to go through the processes of having IRS get the child support from him.
And now, after the sleezball attorney of my father has taken 4 months to gather “evidence” (AFTER HE WAS GIVEN 15 DAYS) its now 7 MONTHS LATER. 7 MONTHS. He has drawn out the whole process and blatantly driven up the expenses that my mom has to pay by doing so. This should NOT be taking 7+ months. The commissioner has allowed this to happen. She has acted extremely biased against us from the beginning. She has struck all counter measures my mom’s attorneys have attempted, and is leaning towards making my mother not only pay my father the $4,000, but also all of his legal fees. My mom is already almost $8,000 in debt because of this just because of her own legal fees.
I never believed that the courts were as corrupt as people make them out to be.
But I guess its just something you have to experience.
My poor mother has been so completely drained by this. Its so frustrating and sad. After the hearing this morning, she spent the following 4 hours crying.
I fucking hate my father. I truly wish he were dead.
can you imagine though
you send your enemies a rather large amount of these in various sizes. you leave no return address or explanation. they open all the boxes to discover these wondrous pillows. they are reluctant to keep them but eventually they give in and integrate them into their home like the above pictures. after a few weeks or even months, theyve gotten accustomed to having them in their home and routinely relax in a large pile of the odd pillows. until one night you just take every single one back and replace them with actual rocks of the same dimensions so that when its time for them to relax and unwind from their day day fall into a pile of hard unmoving boulders. they break their spine and are paralyzed. you have won
What the fuck is wrong with you…
- Do not forget Michael Brown
- Do not forget how the media dehumanized him and tried to justify his murder
- Do not forget how peaceful protests were painted as savage riots
- Do not forget police armed with military grade weapons terrorized and arrested black civilians
- Do not forget Darren Wilson being awarded over $200,000 in fundraiser donations for murdering an unarmed black child
- Do not forget that this system was not built to defend us, but to control us
- Do not forget Ferguson
do you ever realize that there was a moment when your mom or dad put you down as a baby and never picked you up again
I told my mom about this and she walked over and picked me up I am a 22 year old adult woman
i wanna date someone and live with them in a shitty apartment but be happy about it because we are happy together and we can decorate it with stupid dorky posters of shit we like and figurines and art and we can cook weird recipes we found on the internet and eat them and watch cartoons even if the food is gross because we made it and we’re perfect
Well ok Kesha, maybe it’s because you’re an auto tuned peice of shit who shouldn’t be famous, you have no Buisness being in the music industry, it’s not even your music you fuck, someone else wrote it for you to record and them to auto tune yourself. And it’s not at all good . It’s not positive either. So complain some more.
I don’t know if you know this, tumblr user koolkidseatgreens, but Ke$ha is a certified genius. She has an IQ over 140 and an SAT score of 1500. When she was younger she would go to the library and do research for fun. Ke$ha is a both feminist and an advocate for equal marriage/rights for people of any sexuality, being a queer woman herself.
Ke$ha is a smart, professional woman, and just because she sings songs about wanting to let loose and have fun every once in a while doesn’t make her a piece of shit.
Ke$ha’s songs are meant to point out the sexism in our media. She treats men the same way many men in the music industry treat women, and she is hated on for it. Relentlessly. She sings on multiple occasions about taking charge in a sexual relationship, of how she only uses men for their body parts. She sexualizes men to make them uncomfortable. She sexualizes men for a reaction, so that people can both see why women are so uncomfortable with their sexualization and also to point out the inequality between the sexes both in the media and in the world at large.
She is judged so harshly for singing about things that make many men famous.
If you listen to Ke$ha’s deconstructed album you will see that she actually has some talent, which may be hard to hear because she does in fact use a fair amount of autotune. This is because of her genre and because of the kind of music she chooses to create as an artist. Ke$ha may not write her songs, but this doesn’t meant she isn’t a good artist or a good person. This doesn’t mean she deserves your harsh words. Some singers are good at writing, but that’s hardly a requirement. Last time I checked whether or not you can sing has nothing to do with whether or not you’re a poet.
You should not be calling anyone a piece of shit, my friend, especially someone you’ve never sat down and had a conversation (or even taken the time to wonder about her feelings!), but if anyone deserves that kind of language it’s not Ke$ha.
You may think that by shaming women for expressing their sexuality and having fun every once in a while, that you are somehow abolishing sexism. That in weeding out the less ‘deserving’ women you are gaining our sex more respect. This is not the case, and the fact that you and many others feel such a strong need to shame this woman who has done nothing wrong, especially not to you, shows that we still have a very far way to go.
I would reblog this a thousand times over
also Ke$ha was a song writer for britney spears