This will probably be the fastest blog I will ever type since I am so passionate about the subject.

What the fuck is wrong with people?

I have bragged about how nice the people out here are, and just when its safe to go into the water, an idiot has damned her soul to a fiery hell, but first I wish her the worst our prison system can offer yet another scum-sucking lowlife..

The crazy bitch tried to abandon her children and her six-year old son tried to get back in the car, but instead his mommy dragged him to his death.

Don’t expect Mother’s Day cards from your other kids, either.

Abandon or any of its derivatives are all negative.

If you live in a house, you don’t abandon it when you buy another house.

You move from it.

If your house catches fire, you don’t abandon it; you would be too busy hauling ass and getting everyone to safety.

Now if you decide that you can no longer afford rent, and you have no other means of paying it, you abandon your house like a thief in the night. (No, I never did that, but I knew a few who did exactly that).

I hope it is conspicuous by its absence that I have not spoken about people who abandon their animals; I just can’t.

I will get so upset that I wish things upon them that will be too hard to explain in the confessional. I can only keep believing in Karma and wishing unholy thoughts.

Speaking of the confessional, here’s a little short-short story from my book EMOTIONS: Not your Mama’s ABC’s! where a confessional is the setting…

Broken Light Bulb

Gina parked her car in the first row of spaces near the church entrance. It was an hour and a half until mass began, but she arrived early to confess her weekly sins. If ever she needed to go to confession, this was the week. She dipped her fingers into the holy water, made the sign of the cross, and then made her way to the confessional. Her low-heels clicked on the grey stone floor as she walked.                


          She sat in a pew near the confessional compartments, pulled down the knee-rest, and began praying. She clutched her gold crucifix necklace tightly and silently mouthed her prayers of contrition. There were three others in line before her, but she needed the extra time anyway.

          It had been that kind of week.

          Both outside compartments emptied at the same time. Gina saw it was a mother clutching her rosary with white knuckles. Her little girl, about the same size and age as Gina’s nephew, stomped her shoes petulantly. The mother was mouthing her silent prayers while steering her daughter to the rows of candles, both lit and unlit. She slid two folded dollar bills into a slot, lit two candles, and knelt before the religious statue.

          “Pray for Daddy baby,” she instructed as her little girl lowered her head, asking for divine help in making Daddy better.

          Gina entered the confessional and knelt, the priest obscured by the lattice window.

The sins began flowing: Bless me Heavenly Father for I have sinned. This is so hard to say. I was unfaithful to my spouse and had sex with another man…I stole money from one of the collection baskets…I drank alcohol to excess and….I improperly touched a young boy—my nephew.

Dead quiet.

After what seemed like hours, Gina broke the silence.


“Yes child?”

“Why are you telling me this? I thought I was supposed to confess to you.”


Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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