Greetings from the Land of Semi-Retardedment…

Greetings and Salutations from Flor-ree-da… The “Gunshine State”… Home of Wayward Weirdness, The Cowards of Broward, and School Shootings galore!

Welcome back to the Intrepid Reporters ™ update zone report…  where life is lame but tolerable, and the Red Pill is shoved down yer throat, whether you like it or not….

When we last left the I.R. of Fame and Lore ™, his cookie was crumbling… his mental floss spun completely off the wheel…  Ye Olde Belfry was Batty as Fuck, and his volume was turned up to an “eleven.”

Thank God for the Gan-Gans to a certain degree… because of the cannibal coterie of complete chaos, I made it home to the now “Ex” HH6… (more on THAT particular disaster as we go…) on 22 September 2011…  and not a moment too soon…

I wasn’t sleeping… I wasn’t eating… I wasn’t doing really ANYTHING except for feeling like absolute shit, paranoid as fuck, and ONLY sleeping IF I was in my body armor and cradling  my civilian semi-auto variant M-4 in bed, which as anyone could imagine, this WASN’T the sort of homecoming XHH6 wanted nor expected… in fact, looking back now, she wasn’t happy that I was home AT ALL b/c the $$$ was no longer flowing like a river, and she was looking at having to actually work for the first time in our 18+ years of marriage…. add on that her hubby insisted on keeping a fully locked and loaded M-4 either in bed or within arms reach 24-7, you kinda figure that this was a stressor in addition to having a bunch of cannibal fucking child soldiers try and murder me…. not that I could explain that to her… her shallow worldview of “shop, spend money, bitch, and rag” is what she was limited to.  Try and explain that I had been at war LONGER than most humans have ever experienced and fuck…..  its enough to make a dude up and quit.

Soooooooooooo… within 5 days of me getting home… the pressure and stress of me returning started wearing on me… my Fucktarded Retard Shitbreath Cockstain Douchecanoe Father in Law (tell us how you REALLY feel there I.R.?) welcomed me home by handing me the want ads he had saved from the week before and told me it was “Time to get a REAL job!”

Side note:  My ex-in laws are alive STRICTLY because of my kids.  No more no less.  That’s all I’ll say about those hell-bound, psychopathic fucking scum monkeys… I will take GREAT PLEASURE on both urinating AND defecating on their graves when they pass… on a yearly basis… with a grin on my face… fuck them.  Straight to hell… May God curse them throughout eternity and may they suffer the torment of a thousand burning suns being shoved up their anuses.  Sideways no less.

Anyways…. so here I am… family doesn’t seem to notice/give a fuck that I’m home (no “Welcome Home Big Country” party for me… no “Welcome Home” sign no less…)  Fuck… I even had to get a cab from the airport, and then break into my own house as the Cunt, XHH6 couldn’t be bothered to pick me up….  so I’m home and 5-6 days in, Ye Olde Intrepid Reporters Chest starts getting a mite bit… shall we say -tight-?

Yeah… things went downhill rapidly… looking back I wonder if I should have avoided the past 6 years of torture and misery by letting myself cash in… but hell lets face it… I’m a coward….  Not of death, but of letting my kids down… so we called an ambulance…. and they showed, and after some quick debating (they said it WASN’T a heart attack) but that I definitely needed to be checked out, so they raced me to the E.R….  whereupon they found I was dying of the aforementioned staph infection amongst ‘other things’ (Lung Cancer to name one)….

Well, lets fast forward…
Staph infection/Near Death Experience: Check.
Tumors found b/c of the Lung-Based Aforementioned Staph Infection: Check
Fight of my Life against AGGRESSIVE Lung Cancer: Check
Surgery to Carve out 1/2 an Airbag: Check
Whhhhhooooole lotta other unnecessary drama to include my daughter come out, nay LAUNCHING herself (now hisself) of the closet at Warp Factor 7: Checkorooney.
which then comes to:

I’ll thumbnail it to essentially, XHH6 finally pushed the right (or wrong) buttons on me, I flipped, blacked out and woke up in the arms of the Johnny Law Machine… she had me arrested after a P-T-S-D breakdown which apparently involved no actual physical altercations, but some accusations that I consider to be specious, especially since I wasn’t ‘home’ at the time mentally speaking…  All I remember is that she said she’d get me the help I needed… which I suppose if that translates to “taking all your money, leaving you to rot in jail, and fucking you over every time you turn around” I suppose she did her job.

You think you know someone after 20 years?

Yeah.  Jail.  Jail sucks.  I ended up being locked up for about 7-10 days, although its really hard to say because the ONE thing that went right in any sort of fashion was that Johnny Law took one look at my resume and military record and decided the safest course of action was to liberally dose me with ‘the good stuff’ and keep me stoned and HOPEFULLY nonviolent.

Well needless to say, I ain’t EVER Trusting a bitch again…. Not EVER.  I no longer give a fuck.  Not one single IOTA of a Fuck.  After this shit went sideways, I was lucky to get a new girlfriend who was there to lean on…

Nuff said.  Now as far as SHE knows, I’m all ‘luvy dovey’ in the respect that I’m banging the guts out of her each weekend, but as far as actual Give a fucks?

They’re measured in NANOFUCKS…

Between the ‘manosphere’ and the ‘men’s rights movement’ and all these other bullshit what have you groups, I’ve sort of become whats called in the interwebz as a “Red Pilled Motherfucker”…

More Later… Its time to rock this bitch and burn the whole fucking thing to the ground….

Til then I remain still Standing
The Intrepid Reporter

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By BigCountryExpat

Fuck you if you can't take a joke. No one gets out alive so eat me.

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