Here’s why we think you’re an idiot, Jimmy:
She has money. You’re a salesman.
The play when people have money is not what you’re doing.
It’s not to send hate so loud and clear that it deafens and cripples.
It’s not to hold detectable grudges about the way she left home and told your son what she couldn’t handle.
The play, you fucking moron, is to pretend that you can stand her so that she will pay for your meds and 24 hour 24-year-old nurse.
The play, you absolute imbecile, is to let her take care of you because even though she hates what your son did to her, she felt guilty that she wasn’t around after the diagnosis.
Don’t you get how any of this works? Don’t you know the long con, you fucking lazy excuse for a gangster.
ASIDE: The two-bit thief never could pull off a multi-million dollar siphon.
Guilt, you fucking moron. Guilt. Do you understand now what you’ve lost because of your arrogant stubbornness?
You sit there deteriorating in squalor happy as a pig in mud that your petty crimes have ruined her life.
You sit there begging your family for pot money like a child pleading for milk money every single day because the pain is so bad that you can’t fucking stand it.
You sit there, awake at night, counting what’s left of your life insurance policy after borrowing against it for the medication, wondering how much longer you can last.
Yet, there she is not spending her money on you, not able to make more money, still feeling guilty that she’s not taking care of you.
All you had to do, you fucking moron, was to pretend for like five years – less even – that you could stand her after what she said about your son.
And instead of living in a brand new custom built house with wallsized windows and a cook, you’re content to get high on cheap weed and sit on the floor where you fell, pissing your pants until you can find a way to care about getting up.
Her mother said that you couldn’t tie your shoes – we know you heard that – and she meant that you’d trip yourself up in this game.
Her mother speaks in metaphor and euphemism, you idiot, even though she plays dumb. You cannot live with The Metaphor Man for forty-three years and not know about these things through osmosis.
But her mother wants you both to live in shit. She wants you both to rot in hell.
Because she knows that after what she has done, her daughter would never give her a dime.
That woman believes that her own daughter wouldn’t pay for her casket if there was a chance that she’d be buried without one.
Not because her daughter is a cold hearted bitch, but because she is, and if her daughter had a chance of being buried anonymously and without a casket, that woman would die happy and cackling.
Do you get it now? Do you understand what you lost and how you lost it?
All because of something we encouraged her to do while she was lost and terrified. Alone and terrified, running from her matrimonial home after everything. With nothing.
All because it drives you crazy that your son gets called out on his shit when you’re stuck in believing that there’s nothing to fear “unless he’s got a gun to your head”.
All because you cannot give her the fucking allowance that she might really have been terrified.
All because of your own shit from your own childhood.
But you’re too much of a fucking moron to work through your shit and get to the money.
You. Fucking. Idiot.