If you put up with it long enough and smile no matter how badly he breaks your heart, someday, somehow, he’ll learn to love you.
He just has to, right…?
A collection of stories, photo captions, and shoddy poetry
If you put up with it long enough and smile no matter how badly he breaks your heart, someday, somehow, he’ll learn to love you.
He just has to, right…?
You can’t just go around kicking skanks like that, Grandpa!
You could lose your balance and break a hip.
Given my current condition, this looks even more fun than usual. I just want to slap someone until she sucks out the stone.
[TRIGGER WARNING: Don’t look now, but methinks Satan is already behind thee.]
“Oh, stop those stupid tears, Jeanette! Don’t you realize how fuckin’ lucky you are?
“So I fucked you. So what? You should thank me! That’s right, thank me! Look in a goddamned mirror, little girl; it’s not like there’s a long line of men, gonna wait around for a chance to get their hands on a disgusting thing like you! Be real with yourself, you dumb little bitch: this right here, between us? This is as good as it’s ever gettin’ for you.
“I mean, fuck— who the hell d’you think you are? You and your mother owe me everything. Do you actually think that woman would keep you around if I weren’t here, giving her a roof over her head and a medicine cabinet full of pills? Shit no! She’d be living in a trailer with a meth cook, and you’d be sleeping on a cot in some homeless shelter, gettin’ fucked by someone else, someone who won’t take the time to make you like it.
“And I know you like it; twice tonight, by my count. If I stopped comin’ in here after she goes to sleep, I bet it wouldn’t be long before you’d be knockin’ on my door, tryin’ to worm your way in between me an’ her. Yeah… yeah, if I tried to stop now, you’d do what you always do and ruin everything for everyone. You’d spoil it for her, wouldn’t you, you selfish cunt?
“That’s why I’m in charge of this house and everything in it. In charge of you. An’ that’s why I’m comin’ back in here tomorrow night, an’ you’re gonna like it three times in a row.”
…
How was that? Did I sound like your stepdad?
I’ve been practicing, you know; I pay close attention when he starts telling bullshit, feel-good stories over holiday dinners. I sit there beside you at the dinner table, my hand secretly busy in your lap, while you instinctively mimic your mom’s plastic smile, and I listen to how he brags and holds court, the words he chooses… even the way he breathes. For three years now, I’ve watched it all so very closely.
After all, this is our first night in our new house together, and I wanted it to feel like home to you.
No, it doesn’t get better.
Not for you.
Except me. I’m special.
Okay, this new Mythbusters format is growing on me…
That’s it. Spread your disease.
Can you spell “internalized misogyny”?
No?
I feel like I should have seen that coming.