Massive Amounts of Globelike, Perky, Double D Tittage

So, dear readers, the last time I left off in the Divorce-Redneck Style story I had just taken back Redneck Redhead (RR) after he went MIA & lied his ass off. I guess we'll start from there.

So after the events of September things went back to fairly normal. . . until RR started working weird hours. Our house was literally 2 minutes from his place of employment, and he would leave for work at 7:58, but not come home until 8 or so at night. I started asking him if he could manage to come home earlier a few nights a week; maybe not run to the office & work all day so many Saturdays. He kept replying that it was part of his job. He worked in rail freight and the hours can be unpredictable, so I let it go for a while.

But then things just got worse. I was a teacher at the time, and y'all know all teachers go to bed at like 6 PM because we have to be up at the ass crack of dawn & (for me) deal with 150 hormonal freshman all day. All I wanted was an hour or so in the evenings with my husband. Was that too freakin much to ask??? Apparently yes.

RR started working later & later, sometimes coming home at 9 or 9:30. Really?? Somehow everyone else in the office went home to their families at a normal hour, but the office would not run if he wasn't there at all hours. (yeah, he had little man syndrome & thought he was sooo important) Sometimes he'd call in sick to work because his stomach was bothering him & I'd check & see that he'd looked at porn on the computer for 8 hours that day. Yeah, porn. Always the girls with massive amounts of wavy blond hair, and even more massive amounts of tittage. Globelike, perky, Double D tittage. They were all there, all ready to make his every desire come true.

These photoshopped, surgically enhanced beauties just sat there getting fucked, or looking pretty, never complaining that they were too tired. They would probably cook & clean just like he wanted me to, as well, if only they could jump out of the screen. (Of course, right after they let him blow his wad all over their pretty faces) Riiiiiight. . . Back then I couldn't see the photoshop & surgery, though; all I saw were girls prettier than me; better than me.

I became more and more insecure, the more time he spent with his "lady friends." It all came to a head one night whilst watching the Victoria's Secret Fashion show. Yeah, you read that right. Redneck Redhead claimed to be a follower of modeling careers. Hand-picking (in his mind) the girls from the catalogue who would make it to the fashion show, then move to the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition & so on. Yeah, you can't make shit like this up. You really, really can't. He was so obsessed with beauty, and I, being human and not a freakish supermodel, felt that I could never measure up to his standards.

Sooo. . . we're watching the show and he see's Adriana Lima, or Heidi Klum, or some other freakish bitch float down the catwalk and says, "Wow! She is so beautiful!" And then I lost my shit. It went a little something like this:

Me: Really? She's beautiful?

RR: Yeah. Why?

Me: Must be nice for her. I can't remember the last time you said I was beautiful.

RR: What are you talking about? I'm trying to watch the show.

Me: How is it that you can call some random woman on the TV that you've never met in your life beautiful, but you can't say it to your own wife?

RR: You used to be so confident. You were a lot more attractive then. What the fuck happened to you?

Me; I became really insecure because every day I see you looking at these women. These women who have perfect bodies & perfect breasts & perfect hair. And they don't complain, they just sit there looking pretty for you. I can't be them. I'm insecure because YOU MADE ME THIS WAY!!!

And then . . . he picked up the coffee table and threw it across the room. Yeah, I'll let that sink in. Again, you can't make this shit it up. I'll say it, because I know you're thinking it: How in the world did I end up trapped in the 7th circle of white trash hell? I'm really not sure.

So then I get freaked out. I'm crying; I call my mom and tell her what just happened and say I may need to come stay again for a while. I hang up. I try to pull myself together; try to figure out what my next move is, and of course he comes to me crying and apologizing, and saying it will never happen again (just like the time he punched the wall right next to my head when he was mad at his brother...another story, another time), but sometimes I just make him so mad, and push him too far.

I stay. A few days later he asks me if I'm happy, because he's not . .

And Then All Hell Broke Loose

Today I am going to start the story of the divorce (and marriage) that Jerry Springer probably wouldn't even believe. I'll start kind of in the middle, go to the end, then maybe swing back to the beginning.

Once upon a time (April 2002) I was a naive 19 year old, who 7 months prior, had crossed the country from my home of 18 years in Southern California to my new home in North Mississippi, (making a 1 night stopover at the parish jail in Opelousas, LA). And only 4 months before that I had been released from an inpatient mental health facility. Yes, dear readers, my stay in the nut house had something to do with the move, we'll get to that in another blog. The point is I was19, naive, but not really.

I was naive enough to "fall in love." 6 months later I was engaged to the guy we will now affectionately refer to as Redneck Redhead. At 22, despite my reservations and nagging doubt, I married Redneck Redhead. Apparently, it was also despite the unexpressed doubts, fears, and protests of many of my family members. Nonetheless, we were married, and then all hell broke loose. (As is usually the case when you marrry a Redneck Redhead)

14 months after the "I Do's" the first of many What the Hell Was I Thinking? episodes occurred. I was a teacher, and had to chaperone football games as part of my job duties. Redneck Redhead (RR) had already informed me that he would never come with me to one of these events because, "I don't make you come to work with me. Why the hell should I have to go to work with you??" So, this fateful night in September I left for the game and told him I'd probably be home around 10 PM. So sad for him; I got home at 9:30.

RR was nowhere to be seen, and left no note. I called his personal cell first, and it rang until I got his voicemail. I called his work cell second, and the same thing happened. I tried the personal cell again and it went straight to voicemail. He'd turned it off. Same thing with the work number. Oh no he di'in't!

I called his mom's house to see if he had gone to Mommy Redneck's house for a haircut, as he was prone to do. Nope, no RR there! I looked under the bed just to be sure, no RR there! I called his brother, Stoner Redneck, thinking RR'd gone there to hang out but he informed me that he hadn't seen or heard from RR in several days. I tried both cell phones a second time and, again, they went straight to voicemail. OH NO HE DI'IN'T! So there I sat, on my couch, checking between the cushions for RR (yeah, he was that scrawny) and wondering what happened to my husband. Did he get into a car accident and end up lying dead in a ditch? Had he been abducted by aliens? Or the more obvious choice; was he with another woman??

Finally 1/2 hour later my phone rang, and it was RR! The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi baby! Where are you?? I got home early & you weren't here. I was worried!

RR: I'm at my brother's house. Didn't hear the phone ring.

Me: Don't lie to me. I just talked to him and he said he hadn't seen or heard from you in days. Where the hell are you???

RR: I swear, I'm at my brother's!

Me: Don't fucking lie to me you bastard!

RR: OK. I just got here. I was at Fat Redneck's house hanging out & playing the drums.

Me: Really? Why didn't you tell me in the 1st place?

RR: Because I thought you would be mad if I was out hanging out with my friends while you were at the game & I didn't go with you.

Me: Ok, fine. Give me Fat Redneck's phone number. I want to call him & make sure.

RR: Oh, uh well, let me call you back when I get inside my brother's house. I'll give it to you then.

Me: No, you've got it right there in your phone, just give it to me now.

RR: No. Let me call you back.

Me: I'm not going to let you call him & tell him the lie you just told me so he can cover for you. Give me the number.

RR: No.

Me: You were with a woman, weren't you? Please just be a man & admit it.

RR: No.

Me: I'm going to stay at my parents' house. I don't know if/when I'll be back.

RR: No, please, no.

Me: *Click*

Please, before you label me insecure, bitchy, etc. please know the suspiscion didn't just come out of nowhere, trust me. I should have left for good then. I knew he was up to no good. Deep down in my gut, I knew then that he was having an affair. But by Sunday he was at my parents' door crying and begging me to come back, and I went. My parents were unsure, but I was in love. I was married. I wanted to try to make it work. I had no idea there was nothing on Earth that would ever make Redneck Redhead a better man.

Ok, so maybe I did have an idea, but who wants to admit that????

Until next time . . .