Ian and Kelly kicked my ass.

I deserved it with all my [[dark]] talk.  I promised them both I’d ask for a referral from my therapist for drogas.  And now that this is public record, I have to.

So this has nothing to do with the above, but I have to get it out.  To all of you on OKC who’ve questioned my veracity:


Seriously, if you honestly think I’m making this up, then why on Earth would you even write to ask?  Something to prove?  I don’t get it.  If you think I’m making it up, then just DON’T TALK TO ME.  It’s really, really easy.  Because even if I am, what did you just accomplish?

And even more seriously, how the fuck am I supposed to prove it?  Yes, I have a pile of death certificates, and yes, I somewhere have the marriage certificate, but if you were so inclinced, you could just call that bullshit.  You’ll claim I did it all on Photoshop.  You weren’t at the wedding.  Even if I show you wedding pix, you could still deny it.  Oh, i pasted my head on someone else’s body.  There’s no film, only digital.  I faked it, right?!

I mean shit, despite the mountains of evidence, there are STILL Holocaust deniers!  What fucking chance to I have since what I’ve gone through ain’t exactly a Holocaust… though I guess it’s a personal one.

Anyway, I’ll stop ranting.  I’m not angry about this.  Just annoyed.

So much more stuff to go on about unrelated to the above.  So far behind.  Pant.


~ by Anton A. Hill on November 4, 2008.

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