No One Listens

I am all legally atwitter as I just got my exemption from arbitration. Woot woot. Yay me. So now we don’t have to waste 6 months doing an arbitration that neither party will ever agree to. I just want to get this shit over with. I would hope they do too, and we can get to trial quickly. Or they are going to drag this shit out for the rest of our goddamn lives because they know that they are going to lose because their argument is, well, perjury.

And I can prove perjury mathematically. And frankly I’m wondering, are some people thinking this is hella cool? I am totally geeking out on this. I really am. I talked to my dad last night. And I thought to myself, I am telling him about this because, as a lawyer, he should appreciate this one. And honestly I just wanted to tell someone the whole plan and everything I have because, for obvious reasons, I can’t put it here. And of course I don’t have anyone else to talk to.

So I am doing this legally maniacal plan. And telling you that I have to bait that damn lawyer and make her look really bad when she does. This will actually bring me joy. I am not going to say it’s certain, but I am pretty sure I’m gonna cum in my pants while I’m doing this.

So I’m talking like an excited 5-year-old. And my dad stops me and says, “Are you okay?” And of course I say, “Absolutely not, why?” So he shut me down and I didn’t get to finish it, and that shit kind of sucked because I don’t have anyone else I can talk it all the way through with.

I kind of thought my dad would be proud of it. Whatever. He sent money.

I talked to the bodybuilder last night. I kind of bitched about his comments. And he apologized, and then I read his new chapters of the space pirate book.

Here is what he did to piss me off. I was just kind of chatting about shit and I mentioned the dynamics of who is reading, and I said that it gets really toxic at times. Because, as you guys know very well, it does. And frankly some of you kids are just here for the drama. Of course, I am willing to oblige when I can.

So he was kind of “what the fucking” the whole thing. And I’m trying to explain that there are multiple facets to this blog. For instance, I have the Wolfson story twice. One is impassioned and clear and professional and all that shit. The other is obviously just comedy fucking gold. But it is the exact same story.

So I put together a little list of links to a representative sample of the blog. It is mostly three-minute reads because I have learned through my analytics that three minutes is generally your limit. If it’s too long you skip around, and frankly that shit pisses me off a little when you do it, so I try to make it something you read all the way through. See guys, the analytics aren’t just for catching {D} cheating on his girlfriend. Though that shit makes for a great three-minute read for my drama llamas. You’re welcome.

So this bitch opens one of the links. I am watching this shit live. I have told him about the analytics hysteria from Cunty McLawyer. So this guy should be very much aware I could watch.

Thirty-seven seconds. He scrolls to the bottom, then backs out. If he was able to catch any words on that page I would be surprised. Then he texts me and tells me that I am clearly a fighter.

Bro, no. Do you realize the amount of shit I have read about fucking space pirates at this point in my life? And then you pat me on the goddamn head to placate me?

Honestly I will kind of close on this. If I have someone helping me write and I can actually go look at how they write, I’m going to do that. Obviously it isn’t the same type of writing, but at the same time you get a clean look at this person’s voice and how they flow and style and whatnot. I’m just saying I would have read it myself and certainly wouldn’t have just patted me on the fucking head like a three-year-old.

Of course, here is the text:

I qdo need to talk to you for a second. I am calm but impassioned, so don’t let it freak you out.

I did not appreciate what you said to me the other night. I also totally felt super rejected when you sent me home and you weren’t engaging in the cuddling thing.

I spend a lot of time fielding and deflecting questions and false statements about my motives. I am being actively discredited. I refuse to listen to it from the people who are supposed to be on my side.

I am incredibly self-aware. I constantly question my sanity and my logic and my own motives. Here is the kicker on that one, that is how I have been abused in the past. So to recover from the gaslighting and coercion and bullshit, I need to start trusting myself.

I did not get what I wanted out of my public comments. I wanted a lawyer and some press so I can locate some of the other victims.

This man has been raping women since 1986. I know this because he told me. Do you understand that this is a moral imperative on my part to protect other women? Up to his current girlfriend, who literally reaches out to me when he rapes her. Seriously. Last time was like Tuesday.

This isn’t quite over yet. It’s still cooking. I am in the fucking middle of litigation, and that is very difficult to do yourself, especially when you’re trying your own fucking rape case. I have to depose him. That**’s** eight hours in a room with my psychotic ex-boyfriend rapist who had, like, complete control over me. On top of that he is a goddamn lawyer and I’m fucking not. And this is where any goddamn chance of him ever being charged is going to be. This is my proof. This is me having to go through this shit just to get him charged. It’s so not going to be good. It is remarkably ill-advised.

It could be another year before we go to trial.

I have a ton of points to make here, but the fact remains you don’t care and you don’t want to know. It’s a bit of a harsh subject to handle. You did make it very clear you don’t want to know when you didn’t read the blog posts I sent you.

You spent 37 seconds scrolling to the bottom, unable to read a single word at that speed, and then sent a text about me being a fighter. That shit is insulting. Period.

So seriously, given that you have no fucking idea what the fuck you are even talking about because you didn’t read it to know what my blog was about, guess what? You don’t get to fucking say shit to me about it.

That blog exists because people kept telling me to shut up. They kept telling me to get over it. They just kept saying they didn’t want to hear it. And nobody was listening to me. I just needed a place to talk about it. Where nobody could tell me to shut up.

It is the only place left I get to exist.