Rural Wreck by Anita Beer

Not very man people will ever know who the author behind this blog is.  And, I want it that way.  This is  place is safety for me.  I am really sick of sensoring my writing all because someone might read it and get offendded.  Someone generally meaning my family.  I alientated a few folks a couple of years ago and my mom bust my fucking chops daily about something I have written.

I am going to use the most useless example to get this gig started.  Ok, so I live in the general area where I grew up.  And it just so happens that a meth dealer lives near by.  I also write posts for advertising companies and once I wrote an ad and made the following statement “drugs are prevelant in our neighborhood”.

Then, one day I am laying low on my sofa just chilling out when my husbands says, “omg, dick head is walking up in our yard”.  He was headed outside anyway so he went on to see what this idiot wanted.  Within seconds the door opens and my husband says that dick head wants to talk to me.  Sure, as if I care that dick head wants me to get off of my sofa and see what ails him today.

When I get outside he says something to the effect that he doesnt’t appreciate me writing about him on the internet.  I inform him that he is a complete fucking food and I didn’t write about him.  He continued that yes and quoted the above.

My answer?  First of all dick head doesnt know how to read, secondly dick head doesn’t have a computer, third, dick head has been telling people all over town that he is going to burn my house down.

So, I did what any normal person would do.  I called the insurance company and upped my policy because duh, any fool dumb enough to 1. burn his own house down within hours of making bail on drug charges wouldn’t think twice about burning someone else’s house down and 2.  how stupid is he to run around all over town telling people he is going to “burn her out”?

And, when those tactics didn’t cause me to get all in a tizzy because duh, I didn’t write about him, I would venture to say that 99% of you would agree with me that “drugs are rampant in our society” even if you don’t have a drug dealer living near by.  Well anyway, all in a tizzy didn’t do him any good so he went to my mom and begged her to ask me to quite writing about him.

Come on puhlleeeze.

I promise some better tales, I am struggling right now with some serious bullshit with my own mother and I am going to get it out here as soon as I figure out where to start.  I mean, duh, it isn’t like I can say, “I was born and my mother turned into a bitch” but, that’s basically how it is.

So, more later from the tales of ruralwreck community.