Local time where you're at. ("Where you're at"?)

As we launch this pre-holiday edition of the Perfect Football Weekend&#153, Denizens, I find myself having lost all respect for one Adrian Peterson of the Minne-haha ViQueens.

No, not because he drew a tiny dollop of blood when he spanked his son a little too hard with a switch.&#160 (As an aside…Steffi Dawn Stewart, I trust you’re not taking it easy on our son when it comes to discipline.&#160 I would hate to think he turned out…well, like you.)

No, I’ve lost respect for the man because he caved in to the NFL and promised “never to use a switch as discipline on any of his children again”.

“I won’t ever use a switch again,” Peterson told USA Today Sports in his first extensive public remarks since being indicted for reckless or negligent injury to a child. “There’s different situations where a child needs to be disciplined as far as timeout, taking their toys away, making them take a nap. There’s so many different ways to discipline your kids.”

[…]

Commissioner Roger Goodell, in a statement announcing Peterson’s suspension, was critical of the star running back, saying, “You have shown no meaningful remorse for your conduct.”

And what the ever-loving fuck&#160 do you&#160 know about “discipline”, Roger Goodfella?&#160 Hell – you&#160 thought it was okay to only suspend Ray Rice two fucking games!!!

Bastard.

As for you, Peterson – thanks for letting us know your kids are now gonna grow up to be just like the doucherifles over there in Ferguson, MO.

See, Denizens, this is what I rail about when I scream bloody murder about the pussification of America.&#160 Peterson’s kid probably had a spanking coming, but because a droplet of blood emanated from his butt-ocks (a little Forrest Gump lingo, there), the metrosexual pansy-assed dickless wonders that make up the Low-Information Lunatic Lickspittles&#153 of our society clutch their pearls, acquire Teh Vapors&#153 and decry what, fifty to sixty years ago, this society would have roundly cheered.

And then we wonder how we could have elected an illegal Kenyan bastard to the White House – twice – and then just sit, whine & kvetch when he goes and blatantly violates the Constitution instead of manning up, getting off our asses and going and doing&#160 something about it.

Thanks, A.P.

Dumbass.

Let’s get on with the football.&#160 My Arlington Heights Yellow Jackets have a chance to do what no Fort Worth “hah skrewl” (a little Rush lingo, there) team has done in nearly 15 years:&#160 Win an area football playoff game.

They have Wichita Falls Rider tonight at 7:30 in Mineral Wells.&#160 Rider & Heights look to be pretty evenly matched – they beat White Settlement Brewer by more than did Heights, but didn’t beat Grapevine by as many as Heights did.&#160 They’re capable of putting up points, but they can also give them up, too.&#160 Should be a good game.

Sunday, Andy Dalton’s Cincinnati Bengals come to the Southern Command&#153 to take on Supreme General Rayegun’s Texans.&#160 If they can keep J.J. Watt out of the endzone (either offensively or defensively), they might have a shot.&#160 Vegas has the Texans as a two-point home favorite, which translates to a toss-up.&#160 I guess it’ll depend on whether Ryan FitzPatrick takes the field.

TCU is off this week, so we’ll have four wildcard games: Rock Chalk to go into Norman and give #21 Oklahoma a scare (and if Kansas does&#160 pull off the upset, they’ll be calling for Bob Stoops’ head before the night’s out), #25 UMinnesota to have a letdown game against #23 Nebraska (and believe me, I’d love for Jerry Kill’s bunch to go in and upset Bo Pelini’s kids, but I just don’t see it happening), eighth-ranked Ole Miss to give Ar-kansas a shellacking in Fayetteville (I will never pick the Hogs for anything, ever), and Liberty U. to get their asses whipped at Coastal Carolina.&#160 (Sorry, Turner – I was gonna pick you…but then I saw whom you were playing, and you couldn’t beat ’em at home last year, so…(shrug))

We’re back Monday for the recap.&#160 (And it will&#160 be Monday, too – tune into this channel tomorrow to learn why.&#160 (Hint:&#160 This is as close to a countdown&#160 as you guys are gonna get this year.&#160 One.))

Been trying to keep busy today – working on a laptop for a customer, hanging up laundry when possible, cooking dinner, upgrading the kernels on the two remaining Linux boxes I have online, that sort of thing.

But it’s been at the back of my mind constantly today, and it just now slapped me in the face full force.

Father’s Day.&#160 And yet another one without my son.

Fuck you, Stephanie Dawn Stewart.

(This one will stay on top all day.&#160 Look below for new posts – today only.

And HDD – I don’t wanna hear it, okay?&#160 I already know what you think of all this.&#160 This is more for me than for anyone else.)

—

(ED. NOTE:&#160 The following originally appeared in this space a couple of years ago.&#160 (Don’t bother clicking the link – it’s not there anymore, thanks to Internet America and their piss-poor bookkeeping.)&#160 I’m reprinting it now, with appropriate tweaks.

I do love you, son.&#160 I realize your mother and grandparents will try mightily to persuade you that I don’t – but I do, very much.&#160 Someday – hopefully – I’ll get to tell you to your face.)

As most of you have probably figured out by now, this is my boy – or, as Denizen David Hartung has called him, “Spatula II” “Darth Viper”.

Hmmmm.&#160 “Prince Darth Viper”.&#160 Kinda has a ring to it. (grin)

(Side note:&#160 Certain excuses-for-humans in East Texas still&#160 don’t know how I got ahold of this picture.&#160 Bet it’d be a shock to them to know that some of their “friends” aren’t quite&#160 as reliable as they’d thought… (snicker))

Anyway, today’s his 11th birthday.&#160 It’s the latest in a series of birthdays I’ll never get to see.

It occurs to me that I need to again tell you guys what eventually happened with his (*hack, spit*) mother (*hack, spit*) not allowing me to see him.&#160 (Yes, I realize you’ve probably heard it all before – humor me, okay?)

That was resolved, and not necessarily for my benefit, either – but at the very least, neither will she&#160 benefit.&#160 In fact, if you get down to brass tacks about the whole thing, the real loser here is Skip himself.&#160 Anyway, here’s the story:

The divorce was granted October 17th, 2003.&#160 A visitation schedule had already been negotiated and agreed to – in fact, I’ve blogged on that already.

Picking the story up from there:&#160 I started making the specified trips to Greenville, Texas, for the purposes of collecting Skip for his agreed-to visitation with me.&#160 Collected evidence that I was there and everything.

Naturally, She Who Can’t Be Tasked To Obey Court Orders&#153 refused to show.

So I took my evidence and filed a criminal complaint against her.&#160 What is not commonly known is that it’s a criminal offense to interfere with child custody rights in Texas.&#160 It’s what they call a “state jail felony”, lodged right in there between a Class A misdemeanor and a 3rd-degree felony.

And, had the District Attorney of Hopkins County, TX, had the balls to pursue the complaint, things could have gotten very&#160 bad for our favorite fat-assed bitch.&#160 You tell me&#160 what school district would’ve wanted to consciously hire a convicted felon?

But – as I had partially expected and fully feared – the good ol’ boy network in Sulphur Springs kicked in.&#160 The district attorney not only sat on his hands regarding the case, but I strongly suspect he tipped off Steffi’s excuse-for-an-attorney about it.

Said excuse-for-an-attorney began to harass me concerning an obscure concept called a “transistion scheme”.&#160 Theoretically, because of the so-called “estrangement” between me and my son, they wanted to get him “used” to having me around again gradually, in stages.

Of course, they failed to point out that: a) Her Doublewide Assness caused&#160 any “estrangement”, and b) during the two times in 2003 this trollop was gracious enough to let me see him, he sure as Hell™ didn’t look&#160 “estranged” from me.

But something else&#160 they failed to do…is incorporate the words “transition scheme” in the final divorce decree.&#160 As a result, what was&#160 in there were dates specific and time periods specific when I was entitled to have my boy.

Dates and times specific which they ignored without fear of penalty whatsoever, as they had the district attorney in their back pocket.

Eventually, however, the evidence mounted to the point where they had to do something, else the DA would have no choice but to prosecute, lest someone in the media take note and launch an investigation (and yes, I was beginning to contact media types for just this purpose).

I was served in February with papers requesting that the judge in the original case modify the visitation schedule to include the words “transition scheme” and start with the gradual shit again.&#160 In other words, Denizens – she wanted a do-over.

I hired an attorney in Sulphur Springs (who, thank Gawd&#153, was more competent than the loon I’d had previously), paid him another&#160 year’s bonus, and got him to work.&#160 We filed a counterclaim accusing her of contempt of court by failing to abide by the letter of the original agreement.

They countered with the only thing they could’ve – and the thing I was hoping they wouldn’t:&#160 A contempt charge of their own for failure to pay support.

See, this loon I’d hired previously had assured me that the court would set up a garnishment schedule for the child support.&#160 Naturally – maybe this is the good ol’ boy system, or just sheer incompetence on their part – the court never set it up.

As a result, Steffi the Doublewide Bitch Supreme never got a penny from me.&#160 So yes – they had a case.&#160 Marginally.&#160 But it was&#160 a case, by the letter of the law.

This put me in the position of very likely being found in contempt of court, put on probation, forced to check in with a probation officer every month (and pay a $40 fee for the “privilege”)…and, were I to miss checking in or paying the fee by so much as one day, a warrant could be issued for my arrest.

By this time, I’m making plans to marry the Lady Spatula and possibly move to Miami.&#160 Therefore, I can’t have this hanging over my head.&#160 And I’ll be damned&#160 if I was going to let Her Bitchiness control me in this fashion.

With that in mind, my attorney recommended – and I was forced to agree – to deploy what I call the “nuclear option”.&#160 It’s so-called because it’s the option no one wants to see deployed, since it blows up everything.

The option:&#160 Complete termination of all parental rights to Skip.&#160 Meaning, I would no longer have any say in his upbringing, nor rights to see him any more…nor would I owe any child support, back or future.

My attorney explained it this way:&#160 All that it amounts to is just a sheet of paper.&#160 And whether I had rights to my son or not, Her Doublewideness would have him most of the time, and she & her family would constantly be poisoning his mind against me.&#160 This way, the bitch would lose her control over my life – and, after a few years, if he wanted to seek me out, she would be powerless to stop him, and I could then tell him my&#160 side of the story.

I deliberated for about half a nanosecond.

“Do it”, I said.

Termination – which the aforementioned loon in Forney, TX said I couldn’t possibly&#160 get – was granted March 30th, 2004.

So that’s it, guys.&#160 The bitch finally accomplished her objective – she forcibly extracted me from his life.

And it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even send him presents or cards any longer.&#160 They have become so fucking small-minded that Her Doublewideness’ fat-assed son-of-a-bitch daddy is even refusing to accept the presents I send to him.&#160 (UPDATE:&#160 Well, not him anymore.&#160 Seems the fat-ass’ heart finally finished rotting from within, and he died of a heart attack in 2011.&#160 File that&#160 one under “Good riddance”.)

(Most of them, anyway.&#160 I don’t get the rejection notices from Wally World like I used to, but who’s to say that the bastards over there don’t take what I send and just throw it in the trash?&#160 It would&#160 be just like them, if one thinks about it.)

No doubt the lot of ’em will lie to my son like they usually do and say that I don’t even care about him enough to send him so much as a card.&#160 It’s what I’ve come to expect from a bunch of country hick-asses who were willing to lie to a judge and violate other Texas laws to get such a simple thing as a divorce.

Enjoy him now, O Fat-Assed One.&#160 You’ll have a helluva&#160 lot to answer for down the road – and not just with him when he grows up, either.

Chew on that&#160 for a while, bitch.

(UPDATE:&#160 It has been pointed out to me by our beloved Vicar that this could be interpreted as a threat against Her Fat-Assedness.

Therefore, let me take pains to point out – the bimboid has nothing to be worried about from me.&#160 I’ll not be lifting a finger to bring any sort of harm to her.

What I’m referring to is this:&#160 God has been watching what you’re doing, Lard-ass, and I tend to doubt your manuevering in this whole mess has left Him very much impressed.&#160 You’ll ultimately have to answer to Him, not me.

Don’t get me wrong – I’ll have to answer for things I’ve done, too.&#160 On the other hand, I’m not the one pretending I’m as pure as the wind-driven snow in all this, am I?)

Anyway, happy birthday, Skip.&#160 I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to enjoy the presents I’ve tried to send you.&#160 Someday – when they can’t dictate to you where you can go and whom you can meet – I’ll get to at least give you some of them.

Always remember son – I love you.&#160 And I will, forever.

Out of the fire…back into the frying pan.

Wylie East 70, Sulphur Springs 33

#12 Oklahoma 50, at West Virginia 49

at #14 Nebraska 38, UMinnesota 14

at Wisconsin 14, Ohio State 21

Liberty 33, at VMI 14

at Dallas 23, Cleveland 20 (OT)

And Sulphur Springs is banished to high school football purgatory for another year.

(Y’all realize, of course, that they’re on my shit list only until Skip starts playing for teh varsity, right?&#160 Then they’re a permanent fixture in the PFW.&#160 Hell – they’ll prolly take Heights’ place, if the bozos at the FWISD keep Todd Whitten around.)

—

Great.&#160 Now&#160 West Virginia decides to show up.

—

Bucky:&#160 What’d I Tell Ya?

—

Husker-Gopher:&#160 Yawn.

—

Second place in the Big South.&#160 Good job at Liberty, Turner Gill.

—

If the Cowgirlz suck like this against Cleveland, for Cthulhu’s sake, what’s gonna happen tomorrow?

This week:&#160 5-1.&#160 Overall:&#160 49-26.

Quick turnaround, as we’ll come back tomorrow and do this all again.

(This one will stay on top all day.&#160 Look below for new posts – today only.

And HDD – I don’t wanna hear it, okay?&#160 I already know what you think of all this.&#160 This is more for me than for anyone else.)

—

(ED. NOTE:&#160 The following originally appeared in this space a couple of years ago.&#160 (Don’t bother clicking the link – it’s not there anymore, thanks to Internet America and their piss-poor bookkeeping.)&#160 I’m reprinting it now, with appropriate tweaks.

I do love you, son.&#160 I realize your mother and grandparents will try mightily to persuade you that I don’t – but I do, very much.&#160 Someday – hopefully – I’ll get to tell you to your face.)

As most of you have probably figured out by now, this is my boy – or, as Denizen David Hartung has called him, “Spatula II” “Darth Viper”.

Hmmmm.&#160 “Prince Darth Viper”.&#160 Kinda has a ring to it. (grin)

(Side note:&#160 Certain excuses-for-humans in East Texas still&#160 don’t know how I got ahold of this picture.&#160 Bet it’d be a shock to them to know that some of their “friends” aren’t quite&#160 as reliable as they’d thought… (snicker))

Anyway, today’s his 10th birthday.&#160 It’s the latest in a series of birthdays I’ll never get to see.

It occurs to me that I need to again tell you guys what eventually happened with his (*hack, spit*) mother (*hack, spit*) not allowing me to see him.&#160 (Yes, I realize you’ve probably heard it all before – humor me, okay?)

That was resolved, and not necessarily for my benefit, either – but at the very least, neither will she&#160 benefit.&#160 In fact, if you get down to brass tacks about the whole thing, the real loser here is Skip himself.&#160 Anyway, here’s the story:

The divorce was granted October 17th, 2003.&#160 A visitation schedule had already been negotiated and agreed to – in fact, I’ve blogged on that already.

Picking the story up from there:&#160 I started making the specified trips to Greenville, Texas, for the purposes of collecting Skip for his agreed-to visitation with me.&#160 Collected evidence that I was there and everything.

Naturally, She Who Can’t Be Tasked To Obey Court Orders&#153 refused to show.

So I took my evidence and filed a criminal complaint against her.&#160 What is not commonly known is that it’s a criminal offense to interfere with child custody rights in Texas.&#160 It’s what they call a “state jail felony”, lodged right in there between a Class A misdemeanor and a 3rd-degree felony.

And, had the District Attorney of Hopkins County, TX, had the balls to pursue the complaint, things could have gotten very&#160 bad for our favorite fat-assed bitch.&#160 You tell me&#160 what school district would’ve wanted to consciously hire a convicted felon?

But – as I had partially expected and fully feared – the good ol’ boy network in Sulphur Springs kicked in.&#160 The district attorney not only sat on his hands regarding the case, but I strongly suspect he tipped off Steffi’s excuse-for-an-attorney about it.

Said excuse-for-an-attorney began to harass me concerning an obscure concept called a “transistion scheme”.&#160 Theoretically, because of the so-called “estrangement” between me and my son, they wanted to get him “used” to having me around again gradually, in stages.

Of course, they failed to point out that: a) Her Doublewide Assness caused&#160 any “estrangement”, and b) during the two times in 2003 this trollop was gracious enough to let me see him, he sure as Hell™ didn’t look&#160 “estranged” from me.

But something else&#160 they failed to do…is incorporate the words “transition scheme” in the final divorce decree.&#160 As a result, what was&#160 in there were dates specific and time periods specific when I was entitled to have my boy.

Dates and times specific which they ignored without fear of penalty whatsoever, as they had the district attorney in their back pocket.

Eventually, however, the evidence mounted to the point where they had to do something, else the DA would have no choice but to prosecute, lest someone in the media take note and launch an investigation (and yes, I was beginning to contact media types for just this purpose).

I was served in February with papers requesting that the judge in the original case modify the visitation schedule to include the words “transition scheme” and start with the gradual shit again.&#160 In other words, Denizens – she wanted a do-over.

I hired an attorney in Sulphur Springs (who, thank Gawd&#153, was more competent than the loon I’d had previously), paid him another&#160 year’s bonus, and got him to work.&#160 We filed a counterclaim accusing her of contempt of court by failing to abide by the letter of the original agreement.

They countered with the only thing they could’ve – and the thing I was hoping they wouldn’t:&#160 A contempt charge of their own for failure to pay support.

See, this loon I’d hired previously had assured me that the court would set up a garnishment schedule for the child support.&#160 Naturally – maybe this is the good ol’ boy system, or just sheer incompetence on their part – the court never set it up.

As a result, Steffi the Doublewide Bitch Supreme never got a penny from me.&#160 So yes – they had a case.&#160 Marginally.&#160 But it was&#160 a case, by the letter of the law.

This put me in the position of very likely being found in contempt of court, put on probation, forced to check in with a probation officer every month (and pay a $40 fee for the “privilege”)…and, were I to miss checking in or paying the fee by so much as one day, a warrant could be issued for my arrest.

By this time, I’m making plans to marry the Lady Spatula and possibly move to Miami.&#160 Therefore, I can’t have this hanging over my head.&#160 And I’ll be damned&#160 if I was going to let Her Bitchiness control me in this fashion.

With that in mind, my attorney recommended – and I was forced to agree – to deploy what I call the “nuclear option”.&#160 It’s so-called because it’s the option no one wants to see deployed, since it blows up everything.

The option:&#160 Complete termination of all parental rights to Skip.&#160 Meaning, I would no longer have any say in his upbringing, nor rights to see him any more…nor would I owe any child support, back or future.

My attorney explained it this way:&#160 All that it amounts to is just a sheet of paper.&#160 And whether I had rights to my son or not, Her Doublewideness would have him most of the time, and she & her family would constantly be poisoning his mind against me.&#160 This way, the bitch would lose her control over my life – and, after a few years, if he wanted to seek me out, she would be powerless to stop him, and I could then tell him my&#160 side of the story.

I deliberated for about half a nanosecond.

“Do it”, I said.

Termination – which the aforementioned loon in Forney, TX said I couldn’t possibly&#160 get – was granted March 30th, 2004.

So that’s it, guys.&#160 The bitch finally accomplished her objective – she forcibly extracted me from his life.

And it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even send him presents or cards any longer.&#160 They have become so fucking small-minded that Her Doublewideness’ fat-assed son-of-a-bitch daddy is even refusing to accept the presents I send to him.

(Most of them, anyway.&#160 I don’t get the rejection notices from Wally World like I used to, but who’s to say that the bastards over there don’t take what I send and just throw it in the trash?&#160 It would&#160 be just like them, if one thinks about it.)

No doubt the lot of ’em will lie to my son like they usually do and say that I don’t even care about him enough to send him so much as a card.&#160 It’s what I’ve come to expect from a bunch of country hick-asses who were willing to lie to a judge and violate other Texas laws to get such a simple thing as a divorce.

Enjoy him now, O Fat-Assed One.&#160 You’ll have a helluva&#160 lot to answer for down the road – and not just with him when he grows up, either.

Chew on that&#160 for a while, bitch.

Anyway, happy birthday, Skip.&#160 I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to enjoy the presents I’ve tried to send you.&#160 Someday – when they can’t dictate to you where you can go and whom you can meet – I’ll get to at least give you some of them.

Always remember son – I love you.&#160 And I will, forever.

Front & center, Steffi.

Skip’s present is on its way.&#160 It’s been sent to your attention.&#160 Might be a day or two late, but it’ll get there.

Do all of us a favor and let him actually have&#160 this one, mkay?

Stephanie Dawn Stewart?&#160 Front & center.

Skip’s present is on its way.&#160 It’s a bike.&#160 Not a bad one, either, for his age.

Be a decent human being for once and let him have this present, will you?

I hate today.

Abso-fuckin’-lutely hate it.

Those of you who’ve been with me all these years…you know bloody well why.

Those of you who are the Uninitiated&#153…sorry, but I don’t feel like going into it.

Denizens, as you probably know (seeing, of course, as you guys aren’t&#160 the Uninitiated&#153), today is my son’s ninth birthday.

Now, last year, I held off on posting my usual anti-Skip’s-mother rant, in hopes that they’d actually let him have the birthday present I sent to him.&#160 And, if memory serves, they actually let him have it…well, we assume&#160 so, anyway (it was a gift card to WalMart, so I have no idea if they spent it on him or not).

This year, I sent him something other&#160 than that, and have received no notification that they refused it, so we’ll see.

Anyway, happy birthday, Skip!&#160 Dad loves you!

Well, Denizens, she’s done it again.&#160 Or rather, she and her fat-assed pussy of an excuse-for-a-father have done it again.

Stephanie Dawn Stewart (she long ago forfeited any right she ever had to wear the Crager name) refused to allow my son to have the Christmas present I got for him.&#160 Or more to the point, they were too cowardly to even answer the door so that FedEx&#169 could give it to them.

Even when I followed her suggestion and put it in the form of a gift card, well, they’re above&#160 all that.&#160 Can’t have his father&#160 giving him a Chirstmas present, y’know.

And it’s not as if you can’t say you weren’t home.&#160 FedEx, after, all, tried three times&#160 and left three door cards&#160 to let you know there was something for Skip.

But none of that matters to you, does it?&#160 Long as you can stick it to me and deny me any&#160 contact with my son – well, that just makes you cream your granny panties, doesn’t it?

So, fine, Steffi.&#160 Have it your way.

You’ve whined in the past about how I keep saying “some aweful things” (no kidding, Denizens, that’s how an elementary school teacher&#160 spells it) about you in the past, even though I’ve pretty much documented things.

But you can’t keep him under your cowardly thumb forever.&#160 At some point, I’m going to get to tell Skip my&#160 side of the story.

And when I do, the things I’ve&#160 said about you will pale in comparison.

Bank on it, you miserable little shrew.

For those of you who’ve paid any&#160 amount of attention since 2002, today is my son’s eighth birthday.&#160 And normally, I’d post the yearly screed about the events leading to where we are today, i.e. me not being able to see him.

This year, however, I’m going to refrain.&#160 For now, anyway.&#160 How things transpire going forward will determine if I continue to hold off.

For the moment, though – Happy Birthday, son! I love you!

The package is on its way.&#160 And it’s what you requested, although I wish it could’ve been more.

It’d be nice if you’d at least let me know if he enjoyed it (the email link on the sidebar does&#160 work), but that’s your call, not mine.

Stephanie Dawn Stewart – front & center.

I have ordered Skip’s Christmas present for this year.&#160 It’s something I think he’ll like, and I can promise you it’s something you’d never think to get him.

Do us all a favor this year, and let him have this one, okay?

ThatIsAll&#153.

Denizens, you’re well aware of my personal opinion of a certain doublewide redheaded bimboid about 120 miles east of here.

That said, I would still come to her defense were I to see her becoming a victim of this.&#160 This is just…wrong.

It was tough being a red head recently for students at a middle school in Calabasas, Calif., where dozens of students attacked their red-headed classmates — apparently inspired by an episode of the television show “South Park,” and a Facebook group.

The attacks happened on “Kick a Ginger Day” at the school, apparently inspired by a “South Park” episode titled “Ginger Kids,” which used red-heads as a satire on racism. That apparently led to the Facebook group “Natioinal Kick A Ginger Day,” which includes message encouraging attacks on red heads.

And another thing:&#160 If you haven’t recently, take another gander at that pic of my son down there on the sidebar.

See the hair?

I’d damn well best never see shit like this being done to my son.&#160 Bastards who do that will be well&#160 ventilated by the time all is said & done.

(This one will stay on top all day.&#160 Look below for new posts – today only.

And HDD – I don’t wanna hear it, okay?&#160 I already know what you think of all this.&#160 This is more for me than for anyone else.)

—

(ED. NOTE:&#160 The following originally appeared in this space a couple of years ago.&#160 I’m reprinting it now, with appropriate tweaks.

I do love you, son.&#160 I realize your mother and grandparents will try mightily to persuade you that I don’t – but I do, very much.&#160 Someday – hopefully – I’ll get to tell you to your face.)

As most of you have probably figured out by now, this is my boy – or, as Denizen David Hartung has called him, “Spatula II”.

Hmmmm.&#160 “Prince Spatula II”.&#160 Kinda has a ring to it. (grin)

(Side note:&#160 Certain excuses-for-humans in East Texas still&#160 don’t know how I got ahold of this picture.&#160 Bet it’d be a shock to them to know that some of their “friends” aren’t quite&#160 as reliable as they’d thought… (snicker))

Anyway, today’s his 7th birthday.&#160 It’s the latest in a series of birthdays I’ll never get to see.

It occurs to me that I need to again tell you guys what eventually happened with his (*hack, spit*) mother (*hack, spit*) not allowing me to see him.&#160 (Yes, I realize you’ve probably heard it all before – humor me, okay?)

That was resolved, and not necessarily for my benefit, either – but at the very least, neither will she&#160 benefit.&#160 In fact, if you get down to brass tacks about the whole thing, the real loser here is Skip himself.&#160 Anyway, here’s the story:

The divorce was granted October 17th, 2003.&#160 A visitation schedule had already been negotiated and agreed to – in fact, I’ve blogged on that already.

Picking the story up from there:&#160 I started making the specified trips to Greenville, Texas, for the purposes of collecting Skip for his agreed-to visitation with me.&#160 Collected evidence that I was there and everything.

Naturally, She Who Can’t Be Tasked To Obey Court Orders&#153 refused to show.

So I took my evidence and filed a criminal complaint against her.&#160 What is not commonly known is that it’s a criminal offense to interfere with child custody rights in Texas.&#160 It’s what they call a “state jail felony”, lodged right in there between a Class A misdemeanor and a 3rd-degree felony.

And, had the District Attorney of Hopkins County, TX, had the balls to pursue the complaint, things could have gotten very&#160 bad for our favorite fat-assed bitch.&#160 You tell me&#160 what school district would’ve wanted to consciously hire a convicted felon?

But – as I had partially expected and fully feared – the good ol’ boy network in Sulphur Springs kicked in.&#160 The district attorney not only sat on his hands regarding the case, but I strongly suspect he tipped off Steffi’s excuse-for-an-attorney about it.

Said excuse-for-an-attorney began to harass me concerning an obscure concept called a “transistion scheme”.&#160 Theoretically, because of the so-called “estrangement” between me and my son, they wanted to get him “used” to having me around again gradually, in stages.

Of course, they failed to point out that: a) Her Doublewide Assness caused&#160 any “estrangement”, and b) during the two times in 2003 this trollop was gracious enough to let me see him, he sure as Hell™ didn’t look&#160 “estranged” from me.

But something else&#160 they failed to do…is incorporate the words “transition scheme” in the final divorce decree.&#160 As a result, what was&#160 in there were dates specific and time periods specific when I was entitled to have my boy.

Dates and times specific which they ignored without fear of penalty whatsoever, as they had the district attorney in their back pocket.

Eventually, however, the evidence mounted to the point where they had to do something, else the DA would have no choice but to prosecute, lest someone in the media take note and launch an investigation (and yes, I was beginning to contact media types for just this purpose).

I was served in February with papers requesting that the judge in the original case modify the visitation schedule to include the words “transition scheme” and start with the gradual shit again.&#160 In other words, Denizens – she wanted a do-over.

I hired an attorney in Sulphur Springs (who, thank Gawd&#153, was more competent than the loon I’d had previously), paid him another&#160 year’s bonus, and got him to work.&#160 We filed a counterclaim accusing her of contempt of court by failing to abide by the letter of the original agreement.

They countered with the only thing they could’ve – and the thing I was hoping they wouldn’t:&#160 A contempt charge of their own for failure to pay support.

See, this loon I’d hired previously had assured me that the court would set up a garnishment schedule for the child support.&#160 Naturally – maybe this is the good ol’ boy system, or just sheer incompetence on their part – the court never set it up.

As a result, Steffi the Doublewide Bitch Supreme never got a penny from me.&#160 So yes – they had a case.&#160 Marginally.&#160 But it was&#160 a case, by the letter of the law.

This put me in the position of very likely being found in contempt of court, put on probation, forced to check in with a probation officer every month (and pay a $40 fee for the “privilege”)…and, were I to miss checking in or paying the fee by so much as one day, a warrant could be issued for my arrest.

By this time, I’m making plans to marry the Lady Spatula and possibly move to Miami.&#160 Therefore, I can’t have this hanging over my head.&#160 And I’ll be damned&#160 if I was going to let Her Bitchiness control me in this fashion.

With that in mind, my attorney recommended – and I was forced to agree – to deploy what I call the “nuclear option”.&#160 It’s so-called because it’s the option no one wants to see deployed, since it blows up everything.

The option:&#160 Complete termination of all parental rights to Skip.&#160 Meaning, I would no longer have any say in his upbringing, nor rights to see him any more…nor would I owe any child support, back or future.

My attorney explained it this way:&#160 All that it amounts to is just a sheet of paper.&#160 And whether I had rights to my son or not, Her Doublewideness would have him most of the time, and she & her family would constantly be poisoning his mind against me.&#160 This way, the bitch would lose her control over my life – and, after a few years, if he wanted to seek me out, she would be powerless to stop him, and I could then tell him my&#160 side of the story.

I deliberated for about half a nanosecond.

“Do it”, I said.

Termination – which the aforementioned loon in Forney, TX said I couldn’t possibly&#160 get – was granted March 30th, 2004.

So that’s it, guys.&#160 The bitch finally accomplished her objective – she forcibly extracted me from his life.

And it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even send him presents or cards any longer.&#160 They have become so fucking small-minded that Her Doublewideness’ fat-assed son-of-a-bitch daddy is even refusing to accept the presents I send to him.

(Most of them, anyway.&#160 I don’t get the rejection notices from Wally World like I used to, but who’s to say that the bastards over there don’t take what I send and just throw it in the trash?&#160 It would&#160 be just like them, if one thinks about it.)

No doubt the lot of ’em will lie to my son like they usually do and say that I don’t even care about him enough to send him so much as a card.&#160 It’s what I’ve come to expect from a bunch of country hick-asses who were willing to lie to a judge and violate other Texas laws to get such a simple thing as a divorce.

Enjoy him now, O Fat-Assed One.&#160 You’ll have a helluva&#160 lot to answer for down the road – and not just with him when he grows up, either.

Chew on that&#160 for a while, bitch.

Anyway, happy birthday, Skip.&#160 I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to enjoy the presents I’ve tried to send you.&#160 Someday – when they can’t dictate to you where you can go and whom you can meet – I’ll get to at least give you some of them.

Always remember son – I love you.&#160 And I will, forever.