"You killed my wife, Owen!"
Light dawns on Marblehead.
(Oh, and second entry today. I�m so bored!!!)
We just got the Child Support Division�s records on what Hub has paid. Every single payment he�s made, right there in black and white. Along with a big jump in arrearage from one week to the next, back in February when the judge�s order went through. The order that stated the arrearages are payable at $100 per month, or $25 per week, like we�ve been doing. So, this �non-payment� thing? Bullshit.
My theory? The Douchebag wants her $3000 in arrearage now, regardless of the court�s order. That�s what�s up with the license revocation and shit. It�s that fucking douchebag! Otherwise, the Division wouldn�t care as long as he�s paying.
Yeah, The Douchebag is hurting for money so where better to try and get it than where she�s gone for the past ten years, Hub. I mean, her mother is out of work and awaiting her disability checks (and unable to give her all the money she asks for like she did before she stopped working), her step-father is carrying the load in that house (and I doubt he makes very much at his job) and now that The Douchebag is back to work, she�s depending on her paycheck only (hostess at LuiLui part-time, so I�m sure she brings home a whopping $150 a week if that) and that�s just not enough for her spoiled rotten fat ass.
Oh, yeah, and then she�s in need of a car, too, isn�t she? Since she�s been driving her neighbor�s cars for like two months or more. $3000 would buy a decent little vehicle, wouldn�t it? Something that runs and is halfway safe. Or it could certainly be put to repair her car, too.
I swear to God, that�s what it is! She wants a bunch of money and she�s going to use Daisy to get it out of Hub. Well, guess what, BITCH. Ain�t happening. I am so tempted to go with Hub and his lawyer to their appointment on Friday morning. I just have to be there to see her find out that they are going to go by the court�s order and pay it back like Judge Groff ordered. Stupid, stupid greedy bitch.
I don�t know if I�m going to be able to keep being civil to that douchebag if she thinks she�s going to pull this shit. Fucking get a clue and pull your own weight for a change. (Even if you do weigh 250 lbs). Or, here�s a novel idea: Go after the father of your other fucking kid, too! Hello! Hub is not responsible for supporting him, get that through your big fat stupid head!
Oh, and the business? Hub�s name�s not on it ANYWHERE, except as an employee. He�s not even on the bank account. You can�t touch it. Try, and I�ll get my own lawyer who will tear you up. Rip off your head and shit down your neck. Don�t fuck with my income. Try getting a clue, and perhaps someday you can have the kind of life that I have. Or find another man to suck the life out of.
Anyway, in unrelated retard news, Ned hasn�t shown up for work or called yesterday or today. Around noon time today, he calls. He�s having stomach problems and needs another advance on this week�s paycheck for medicine. I was like, �Um, you haven�t even called Hub to let him know you�re not coming [which is all he asks], and now I�m supposed to go out of my way for you? I don�t even know if you still have a job�. And that�s about the time that bitch hung up on me.
Besides that, that hot guy Ryan? Done last week, never showed up again. Gotta love it! Of course, what can you expect when this is Hub�s version of a job interview: �When can you start?�. Think he�ll learn?
And the motherfucking kids. What a bunch of assholes. We have a tower fan set up here in the living room to at least cool the air a little bit, at least move it around, ya know? The kids know, not to touch it, I could not have been more clear about that. I totally caught them fucking around with it. Little bastards. I took it away, not even a warning. I�ll bet once I do put it back, they won�t fuck with it again. And oh boy are they sweaty right now.
Anyway. I�m just hot and sweaty and PMS-y. Forget I ever wrote this one.
Three more days, and I�m leaving! Yey!!!
I�m out. Again, yo.