Spin Cycle

I think we all reach a point where we just get tired and fed up with being lied to.

There are white lies, lies of omission, lies of commission, inadvertent lies, serious lies, stupid lies and the list goes on.  Each is told for a purpose. Sometimes noble, sometimes humanitarian, sometimes to save face, sometimes to hide an error (whether in judgement, action or otherwise), sometimes to divert attention and sometimes the liar just lies because they have been doing it so long that they've become pathological.

I don't think Scarlett has reached the pathological stage...yet.  She won't lie when the truth would sound better, but she is getting close.

I was informed today that Pecker (from yesterday's blog) came over yesterday morning to help her because of her little visit to the ER.  I was also informed that the trip to the ER was not caused by him or anything he did.  No, it was instead caused by me.  It was my fault.

Okay.  By this point I am used to being blamed for things.  I'm used to hearing how most of her problems are my fault.  I am to blame. Me, me, me.  She is perfect and godly and all the rest of the nice and sweet little stuff.

But really.  If you are going to pin the blame for something on someone it might be good for your case if that individual can be shown to have been there and also did something to cause the problem you are attempting to pin on him.

Or not.  Apparently, unbeknownst to me, merely speaking the words makes it true.  Man, I want that job!  But I guess that doesn't exist in the real world.  It does however in Scarlett's.

She decided to try and spin all the events of yesterday into either being my fault or due to some "medical condition".  When I brought up the inconvenient fact that the physical evidence I saw and photographed (a blood stained mattress with the bulk of the stain located in the general area of a certain body cavity) contradicted her statement that nothing happened, she just woke up like that for no apparent reason, she then changed her story to one in which I was somehow the villain.  Yet I was nowhere around.  Hmmm.

Then she tells me that Pecker had only arrived that morning to "help her" because of her ER visit.  So, why did he have that overnight bag with him when he finally vacated my property I innocently asked.  "Well he carries that with him everywhere he goes" she replied.

You mean like a homeless guy?  There was no response to that question.

After about 10 minutes of this foolishness I just told Scarlett that I was tired of listening to all her lies.  I was born in the dark but I wasn't born yesterday.  I know damn well that Pecker was there during the evening, you know it, the paramedics know it, the ER doctors know it.

Well she finally caved and admitted that yes Pecker had come over that day and spent the night.  Told her it was refreshing to hear the truth.  For once.

Happily that phone call finally ended but it was later resurrected by email.  Now she was back on her 30 years of marriage jag.  Sort of.  Except this time it was a little different because she couldn't say she was going to be old, alone, sick, and die alone.  Hard to say that when you have some young buck sharing what had been your marriage bed with you I guess.  But good old Scarlett soldiered on anyway.

Again, my fault, my doing, she was pure as the driven snow.  Godly woman.  Worshiped the ground that I walked on (where she spits, grass never grows again...), cut down in her prime, oh what a wonderful wife she was, I didn't realize it, took advantage of her love  blah-de-blah-de-blah.

She couldn't for the life of her understand my reservations about having some strange young Pecker in the house.  A Pecker I reminded her I knew nothing about.  Age?  Occupation?  Living arrangements?  Car?  Police record?  I seriously doubt Scarlett knows the answers to a lot of those questions yet she claims to be "in love" with Pecker.  More power to ya Scarlett but I guess I'm just old fashioned.  I still think you need to KNOW the person first.  But I suppose that's just my fuddy duddiness showing.

And because I saw fit yesterday to show up at Tara to walk Salty Dog, as she requested, she now wants my key returned.  I was also informed that she will do whatever she damn well pleases in that house regardless of any humiliation I may suffer.  Truthfully, there isn't anything she can do that would humiliate me.  Humiliate her on the other hand?  Oh, she does that in spades.  But being the stupid little dumbshit she is, she just doesn't see it.  Or at least acknowledge it.  Anyway, my response to that was:

She was informed that there will be a walk through of Tara prior to any money changing hands to note any and all damage that her and her prepubescent manchild have inflicted on the property.  That there will now be a time limit attached to her continued residence at Tara after she has been bought out and that rent will be levied for each day that she is late.

Finally, after all this time, I think I'm going to have some fun with this.