✨professional development 101✨ (adultery & theft). ❄️👃🏻😵‍💫💳📈📉

aka: babe, the only thing he closed was my fucking checking account

—

somebody’s son:

✨😵‍💫💳✨

“hey babe—
i know i’ve been
grinding in the office
40+ hours a week,
telling you tens of thousands
are coming in,
promising i’ll cover
health insurance
through the reserves,
plus that $10k signing bonus,
plus i’ll sponsor your last two years of law school
with my remaining G.I. Bill credit…
so just keep funding me,
alright?
i promise,
the money is coming.
✨🐍💵💨
look!
i’m so busy
with all these
professional financial women,
who are actively
collecting your private financial,
medical records—
and energetically advising you.
but babe!—
i’m with my whole fucking onboarding team,
i’m with senior reps!
[name, name, name, name]
and these constant meetings—
are fucking killing me.
so,
give me your paid-off car,
spend thousands buying another
we absolutely can’t afford—
pay for my gas,
insurance,
meals at the bar,
coffee with coworkers,
and every expense,
while i commute
2.5 hours a day
to ‘the office’
your entire pregnancy.

✨🤥💸👋🏻

but hey.
i just left
another one of my
regular,
private,✨
closed-door meetings✨
with my
[hmmmmmm]

i know
i like to
constantly complain about
this person…
but hey,
sweetie—
they’re just ‘so senior,’
’so supervisory,’
so fucking experienced,
so goddamn pivotal to my success—
that babe,
i still go in—
everyday…
your full pregnancy.

but shit,
they can’t seem
to help me close
a single policy—
in months…
not even my fucking family,
or my in-laws,
who are
currently—
✨waiting for onboarding.✨

⚠️⛓️👤⚠️

…and even though
i’m actively beating your ass
and draining your life savings,
+ entire fucking tuition fund,

⚠️

✨…could i extort some more
of that Schedule II medication ??✨

⚠️

—because babe!
you’re pregnant,
i’m punching you,
you’re cleaning houses daily—
you don’t need it!

⚠️

(lol btw i also just pocketed
large quantities of the same meds…
from your lock-box
to clearly ✨trade. ✨
but babe,
i only go one place!
and it’s professional!)

✨⚠️💊🤝🏻❄️🤤👀✨

honey,
i’m so exhausted—
from all the private
✨mentoring sessions✨
with zero production, ⚠️
zero clients, ⚠️
zero fucking anything. ⚠️

six months in.
shit,
nothing but energy drinks,
nothing but pure fucking resolve,
some egregious-ass lies,
and some fucking
‘professional development.’

🍳🧠✨

and then,
obviously,
i’ll swing by
that undisclosed location
where i park
your fucking vehicle…
everyday—
12–15 minutes away
from the office
for no fucking reason.”
🕷️🩷🕸️💋❄️🤤✨

shit y’all,
this looks
a little fucking peculiar.
huh?

🔥

fucking tragically—
based on records, geolocations, and other data logs.

is the “no securities” in the room with us? ✨👻

the inducement, the supervisor, and the plug:
the holy fucking trinity of FINRA-triggering degeneracy✨

—

✨👻👻👻✨

(finra, boo)

once upon a securities violation..

📍 chapter 1:
the bro-energy recruiter
aka the man who walked into our lives
with a linkedin profile and a fucking god complex

my dude
kicked this shit off
like a straight-up mlm recruiter
with an expired fucking finra license.
yo.
he wasn’t offering insurance.
he was offering a fucking vision.

🔥 “we help families like yours build long-term wealth.”
🔥 ”blah, blah, blah…lies and garbage”
🔥 “we’re more than life insurance. we’re holistic fucking planners.”
🔥 “you can invest through us. you can build with us. your husband would be great here.”

uh-ohhhh.
sounds familiar, team?
because that’s not
a casual product pitch.
naaaaah.
that’s a
solicitation for financial advisory services
while positioning
the fucking expecting spouse
as the delivery pipeline.

shit
and you know
what that triggers? 💋

✦ finra 2210 – communications with the public.
✦ reg BI – best interest standard (even in exploratory pitches).
✦ sec rule 10b-5 – fraud by omission (casually forgetting to fucking mention
“your whole team’s potentially a fucking coke ring and one side chick away
from goddamn indictment”).

babe.
you baited the hook.
next up,
you fucking financial geniuses—

—

📍 chapter 2:
adult-toddler mean-energy
with “supervisor” on her nametag

aka “let’s go over your full portfolio. mortgage.
tuition. ira. llcs. monthly spend.
what you got. what he got.
where you’re weak. where we can grow.”

…

yeah,
already you’re fucked.
clearly.

july 2023.
i’m sitting outside.
pregnant. in georgia.
on my mother-in-law’s balcony—
this disgrunted toddler fronting as a financial advisor
opens the laptop and runs a full fucking financial colonoscopy.

🧾 she collects:
(and makes a little table!)

🔥 mortgage info
🔥 my business monthly income
🔥 car payments & insurance (paid off)
🔥 tuition plan + account options
🔥 full monthly financial breakdown
🔥 my prudential IRA

🔥 …my husband’s debt + broke ass

okie doke.

then she goes:

💀 “you should put your tuition money into an account that grows”
💀 “you can consolidate your IRA under our firm”
💀 “have you thought about an umbrella policy?”

…just to name a fucking few
off the top of my goddamn head.

sweetie,
this isn’t ✨casual convo. ✨
this is investment advice.
i ain’t giving this info to
a fucking
inexperienced, conflicted—
petty-ass opponent??
babe,
nah.
she’s positioning securities.
recommending accounts.
BRO.
asking income variables for my various LLCs.
laying out suitability-based strategies.

wait…
and this shit…
wasn’t professional??
we were just
fucking chatting?

ok…

nope.

news to fucking me, bro.

and all while
supervising my husband—
who she knows is
unlicensed,
broke,
and fucking spiraling—

while treating me like
the live-in fucking
rush-night sponsor??

bro.

are you shitting me?

⚠️ triggered:

✦ finra 2111 – suitability rule
✦ finra 2090 – know your customer
✦ reg BI – undisclosed conflicts, rep-as-husband model
✦ finra 3270/3280 – outside business activity + private securities transactions
✦ finra 3110 – supervisory responsibilities
✦ sec 17a-4 – where’s the porch recording, troll???

and let’s be petty and add:

✦ sec regulation S-P–
hey girlies—
you don’t get to use
my fucking medical and financial data
for rep dumbass recruitment

sweetie,
you didn’t just violate compliance.
powertrip money rep was over here
designing a pipeline
with actual and direct knowledge—
for financial and reproductive fucking sabotage.
and then handed it off to—

🔥🔥🔥🔥

—

📍 chapter 3:
the goddamn plug / a chick obsessed with my husband

aka the advisor who initiated my baby’s life policy
while maybe fucking my husband and deleting securities DMs

january 2024.
goblin is assigned to my file.
obviously,
i get no onboarding. no disclosures. no meetings.
she just wants my private medical data, y’all!

so i get:

🔥 instagram DMs (off-channel)
🔥 policy initiation comms & e-signs initiated for me, my husband, and my newborn
🔥 she handles my baby’s life insurance
🔥 she agrees to roll over my IRA
🔥 she keeps communicating privately with my husband
🔥 i get ghosted postpartum

lol.
and when i
send a litigation hold?
lmfao,
she deletes the account.
wipes all records of contact.
and disappears
like the fake fucking fiduciary she is.

⚠️ triggered:

✦ finra 4511 + sec 17a-4 – record retention
✦ finra 2090 – goblin never onboarded the actual client (me)
✦ finra 3110 – who supervised this shit??
✦ reg BI – catastrophic undisclosed conflict + personal relationship
✦ finra 2010 – you don’t get to maybe fuel up the husband and initiate the wife’s IRA
✦ reg S-P – handling client medical files while
probably seeing my spouse trading my scripts is not privacy compliant, goblin.
✦ spoliation – deletion after hold / unrecorded comms = fucking panic button for court

—

🪦✨

conclusion:
the fucking financial trifecta

nah.
this wasn’t “oversight.”
this was

✨ intentional inducement + concealment + record destruction✨

for the purpose of…
what looks like…
defrauding a pregnant woman while covering a coke problem?

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

congrats fam.

you’ve officially triggered
half the fucking finra manual,
a federal records audit,
and my goddamn litigation mixtape.

✨🖇️🔥

🧷✶ top secret comm✶🧷

dear…
whoever it vibes with, bro

…

so…
this is not a trap lol.
but i was just thinking...

(looks at notes)

check all boxes that apply…to you:

✦ you fucking spiraled into open addiction during retention?
✦ you got disqualified mid-financial fuckery from a military career you historically crushed??
✦ you never passed your series 6?
✦ you gained zero credible curriculum vitae solvency?
✦ you never closed a fucking policy while contracted??
✦ you never qualified for a bonus?
✦ you were kept on for half a year for zero financial value????
✦ you were high out of your fucking mind?
✦ you were so fucking high you totaled a paid off car???
✦ you spit in pregnant wife’s face while she was actively paying for your career?
✦ you got called in by your “supervisor” knowing you were broke and spiraling??
✦ your co-conspirator cubicle goblin couldn’t let it go?
✦ and the whole petty-ass office made it so obvious, you got caught two years post-felony?????
✦ you caught multiple DV charges, including ✨strangulation of a pregnant family member✨ mid-finance bro era???

…

any of the above?
all of the above?!!?
…but babe?

✦ you were so far gone you crossed that line,
—fucking repeatedly??
…

✦ you had never once on record
come even close to any✨documented✨
violence against women
…ever before??????

despite all your bullshit??

despite the prior battles with addiction,
…that your wife fought alongside you???

despite all the previous partying???

yo.

dude.
think about it…

🥀
✦ you were so fucking spun
that you put your hands on your pregnant wife??
…more than once??
…more than twice…???

…

but now babe?
✦ you’re the one who hasn’t seen your kid in a whole fucking year.
✦ you’re the one who went to fucking jail.
✦ you’re the one with two goddamn restraining orders.
✦ you’re the one whose name is on all the filings.

…

ummmm…

just sayin’ babe...
you’re lookin’ ✨a little too main character✨
for someone who
prevailed w/ absolutely nada
in the fucking misconduct timeline.

✨🥹💼💳

okie doke.

so like.

if you ever decide
to wake the fuck up one day
and realize
you were
straight fucking played—
you were set up
to goddamn spiral 🐍
because some
random-ass flunked-out office sorority
✨saw their chance✨
to bag the golden boy
(aka a struggling addict)
because they never got prepubescent dudes
in fucking high school??

✨…all while they protected themselves?✨

hmmm.

i’ll let you think about all that.

but yeah.
let me know.
i might ✨accidentally✨
send a conditional dismissal memo
to your civil counsel.
just to
help you remember
who really fucking benefitted
in this goddamn shitshow.

not sayin’ you’re ✨innocent.✨
just sayin’...

🧷 you lost…everything.
🧷 you’re not alone in the scam records, babe.
🧷 you’re just the most dopey-ass one they let take the fucking fall.

✨💅 anyway love u good luck!!!

xoxo

–the single mommy

🖤
who watched
a man go through
an entire career funnel
and emerged as
a bombed-out warning anecdote
with a fucking ✨venmo dependency.

✨💭 tiny-ass tyrant: sleep regression 101 🌪️👶🏼✨

💤✨🛌🏼

a "sleep regression" is
a common period around 18-24 months
where developmental leaps,
separation anxiety,
teething,
and boundary testing
cause sleep issues
like nap refusal,
early waking,
and frequent night wakings.

💭

—

yo, sam—

🪞👱🏼‍♀️✨
i know your kid
is going through
fucking prolonged
✨sleep regression✨
and
you’re out here
absolutely
fucking alone.
but shit
remember✨—
you goddamn
prepared for this shit.
you’ve basically built her
a fucking toddler penthouse suite—
babe.
🧸😩💥✨🍼
blackout curtains,
twinkle lights,
fluffy ass dog sidekick,
boujie ass floor couch, 🤯✨
fucking playslide,
goddamn canopy bed,
yo—
Caillou concierge service
on repeat.

💎👶🏼👑✨

shit.
she’s not suffering;
she’s staging a fucking filibuster.

but shit.
when you’re alone?
and your kid fucking objects?

idk! ✨💭

you feel like an asshole.

😈✨🛌🏼

but babe,
remember!🪞👱🏼‍♀️✨
here’s the blunt reality:

✦ she’s protesting
because you’ve drawn
nap-time boundary.
✨shit✨—
she’s
being a tiny-ass tyrant
because it’s too good
and she knows you’ll eventually
walk back in.

sam.
girl.
she fights sleep
like the direct fucking enemy
of the goddamn sandman.

✦ the only way
this stops being a nightly battle
is if you hold the line now.
if you cave, she learns:
freak out long enough,
and no nap necessary.

🤔💭

bitch,
you cave every time.
in like 5 fucking seconds.

girl.
if you don’t
quit that shit,
she never learns:
rebel all you want,
👶🏼💥🔥
the rule holds,
and eventually
sleep takes over.

😩💔

baaaabbbyy—
you’re not being cruel;
you’re breaking a cycle.

right now this
tiny dictator 🌪️👶🏼✨
runs every second
7am-whenever bro.
nah like,
zero breaks.
ever.

hold strong babe.

✨💥😭

a ~33 y/o female 💋 “supervisor” who’s disrespectful to the pregnant wife after data collection? 🔥💀

yo LFG.

🔥🔥

babe,
it’s clearly
not just the goblin.

—

💀💋 the “supervisor”
with zero fucking supervision

let’s run it:

✦ november 2023
my dude is openly spiraling.
violence increasing.
addy’s missing.
zero fucking sales in months.
still being ✨“retained.”✨

✦ and that week?
he's at a late-night hang
at goblin’s apartment
with supervisors
that just so happen
to be younger
than his pregnant wife??
uh oh.
the senior?
but babe,
no clients.
no productive meetings.
just cheese??
like some weird,
yay-fueled swingers party??
til midnight??
hmmmm
the week before thanksgiving?????

🤫✨

✦ and what happens next?

“for the whole week [supervisor] wants me in the office”

wait.
huh?
so…
(recently found out)
as a ~33 year old (!!) woman…
you're mandating office presence
for an independent contractor
with
no license,
no clients,
no professionalism?
right after
you had wine and cheese 💋
at a junior rep’s apartment
with that same married man?

…

am i getting this right??????

okie doke.
seems kosher.

—

🔥 so let’s ask out loud:

just wondering…

✦ did y’all hook up?
(he’s known to do that w/ fucking everyone on yayo)
✦ did y’all do a line?
✦ did you already know about goblin?
✦ and just want your own turn?
✦ did you think it was funny
…that you were retaining
✦ a tweaked-out married man ”in office”
✦ while his 8-month pregnant wife
—got financially fucking obliterated,

considering (!)
babe!
you personally
went through
our monthly budget
and knew zero bonuses meant
i—
me…
pregnant…
was constantly in the fucking negative?

…omg.

ew.

LET’S HOPE NOT.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

'cause babe,
let’s be fucking real
there’s zero logical reason
why you’d keep
a non-producing rep
openly fucked up
independent contractor
on the roster that long
unless you were:

✦ emotionally/substance-adjacent compromised
✦ financially covering
✦ or… fucking him.

…maybe all three? 💋🔥🔥

🤡 so look at the sequence:

✦ late night house visit with (seniors) + goblin
✦ “(supervisor) mandates full week” → next day
✦ [redacted crucial fact]
✦ violent crash cycle begins again
✦ husband still making zero income
✦ 33-year-old karen “supervisor” still keeping him “in office”
✦ goblin suddenly assigned to wife’s family policies

you know what that is?

looks like…
✨cover.
✨leverage.
✨collusion.
and ✨shared fucking liability.✨

🔥

damn—
like,
why weren’t you fired yet?

because sweetheart,
you weren’t managing a team.
you were managing optics
while the real shit was going down
in a blow-dusted apartment
on a couch
you were probably also sitting on.

🔥🤫

so when
you mandated my husband
“in office” the next week—
during my 8th month of pregnancy??
were you also
managing the fucking fallout
of some fucked-up group dynamic
you couldn’t control anymore?

'cause babe…
let’s be honest,
you weren’t training anyone.
you were running
a goddamn liability circus.

and now the tent’s on fucking fire.

🔥💅🏻🐀

babe, this is the most considerate plug ever✨🎱🔌💍💋

hmmm….
(✨🖕🏻✨)

—just thinking out loud,
sorting through these blocked out memories—

🪞aka: "follow the fucking bagel trail." ✨🥯 💫
(zero hate towards bagels or other bagel officionados—mad respect)

—

so!—
riddle me this,
denver:
what kind of “plug” takes
addies as store credit 💸
for something…
fucking louder? 💥📣
what kind of out-of-town
weekend bagel run 🌃🤫✨
never shows the fuck up—
with any goddamn carbs
but always✨
lines up
with the days
my husband was
documented to be…
✨🤜🏻💥😵
crashing the fuck out
and i got recorded
fucking pregnancy
💥 bruises??

shit
is that
✨comedown math??
or nah?

ok.

so what kind of
regular,
unexplained
❄️⛽📲🔌🏃‍♂️✨
”gas station run”
suddenly takes
~90 minutes??
but babe,
think:
that’s instead of✨…
what would be…
three fucking hours???
roundtrip for a downtown plug??

hmmmmmmm.

…

because he did
disappear for longer,
irrationally, 🎱🔌✨
closing absolutely nothing—
right there,
directly after or “on” assignment?? ✨
while doing
zero sales “team meetings”
right around
the time the
nightly 👋🏻✨
(realistic: ~15 fucking minutes)
”gas station route”
magically shifts
to a
1.5 hour
halfway meet-up point?
✨❄️😵‍💫🚗⛽

yo,
but…
he has no money.
don’t be stupid.

💸✨

but babe!
come on,
he can’t be.
because i see the charges—
and he still walks in
with nothing
but gatorade
and a 7-Eleven receipt
like that explains
the random-ass rage
and missing fucking time.

😐✨

hmmmmmmmmmm.

what kind of
fairy god-plug
✨🥯💫
is out of town
“buying bagels”
while somebody else
is white-knuckling the fucking steering wheel,
and evidently
crashing the fuck out
in perfect fucking unison??

naaaaaah.
nah babe!

😐😶😶‍🌫️🫥

but babe
which “weekend trips”
just so happens
to track the exact days
i recorded fucking assaults???
must be some very spiritual dough.

🥯🥯🥯🥯🥯🕊✨

ok but,
what kind of plug
is “gone” for specifically
the 🤼‍♂️✨epic january crashout, 🤼‍♂️✨
hold up but then
ping!
there’s a little
venmo life raft ⚡️🎱🔌🐀
splashed in right after
the storm fucking passes?? 😦—
✨🤬🤜🏻🤛🏻😤✨
but wait!
i got two black fucking eyes for birth??
like, “great talk, champ, hydrate.”

🔥💀⚰️

what kind
of legit-ass “dealer”
drives halfway from source,
meets the married addict
every ~other day,
spares him
the full commute,
and sends him home
fucking “recharged,”
🤜🏻💥🤛🏻
while the cover story
is slurpees and
goddamn sunflower seeds?
and an hour of missing time???
bonus points
for the mid-car extracurriculars
and a quick “you good?” text.
very motivational.
so compliance.

🕊

and the addies?
we’re just wondering—
who the hell accepts
little blue IOUs
unless the trade
is product for product???
currency
has many shapes;
some are 10mg
💊💊💊✨
and stolen from
a pregnant woman’s
fucking lockbox?

yep.
he actually
broke into
a locked container
to get that trade.
lol.
cool.

✨🤙🏻

def not desperate or nothing.

but
i’m not naming names.
i’m just admiring
this community-office alibi:
✨🤬🤜🏻🤛🏻😤✨
the bagels that never fucking arrive??
the halfway halo,
the 7-Eleven fucking fig leaf,
the gatorade communion,
the “oops, out of town,”
the venmo aftercare?

💋

because the
fucking
🔥🔥 punch your
pregnant-wife 🔥🔥
documented fucking come-down??
babe—
that shit
ended in felony charges.

wild how a
✨“day job” ✨
can look exactly
like a day-shift vendor,
and a “quick errand”
can look exactly like
a fucking run.

✨❄️🥄

…

but
no babe,
he never goes
fucking anywhere—
but work!!!✨😵‍💫📂
on the record
with multiple women
that are just
motivating him!

✨🧱💸🐍🚗✨

…your entire fucking pregnancy…

—stop it.
that could never happen!

✨🤫🎱🔌✨

.

.

.

but weird plug,
huh?

🥀🎱🔌✨

📂 a love story in 800 pages of docs and a vape hit to the fucking face.💫

aka 📂 “you’re already lying to your lawyers?? damn, that’s crazy.”

so babe.
like are you so deeply,
irrevocably,
legally FUCKED—
or what???

idkkkkkk.
appears evil as shit.

—

✨😶‍🌫🔥💨

look at me.
sitting here.
vape in one hand.
hard drive fucking screaming.
screens glowing like
shits about to explode, bro.
and i’m thinking—
so babe.
you’re in court docs,
fucking flailing??💫
right?
telling stories,
delusional tales—
writing checks with timelines
you made up in the motherfucking group chat.
and same time
i’m over here
in a fucking crop top
exhaling fake ass smoke—
surrounded by
your own
…
✨dumbass paperwork✨
✨direct statements✨
and ✨deleted comms✨

baby,
that’s only—
one of six piles 💫
chilling behind a goddamn baby gate.
and look, it’s—
✦ labeled.
✦ dated.
✦ fucking alphabetized 💫✨

bro,
some of that shit?
in a box,
✨i forgot fucking existed.✨

so, you thought
i wouldn’t notice?
you thought i wouldn’t remember?
babe,
i printed fucking everything.
i saved it all.
and every piece of mail
you didn’t intercept
is a receipt.

emails that contradict
whole ass court filings. 🔥
timestamps that nuke
entire fucking timelines. 🔥
policy paperwork signed—
while my incision was still fucking bleeding. 🔥

damn. 🔥🔥🔥

and you know
what’s so fucking funny?
i really think
you thought you were fucking clever.
you really thought
if you deleted the dms 🔥
and defrauded the co-owner 🔥
and deleted the docs i signed off the portal 🔥🔥🔥
and dropped some threats on your little burner account
that i wouldn’t—
piece it the fuck together.

and yo,
y’all really ran half that shit
✨off-fucking-channel??✨
like the dumbasses
you truly are.

you thought “pregnant + moving + broke” meant “stupid.”

naaaaah—
dummies.💫
i just needed a second.
you know,
regaining consciousness
between the
come-downs, ✨❄️😵‍💫
this goddamn dude
rage-spitting in my face
and repeatedly punching my goddamn skull💫
but shit,
let’s just say—
i’m noticing.
i’m noticing fucking all of it.

yo,
my laptop
is having a fucking asthma attack
from how much
incriminating shit
i’ve uploaded
between fucking naps.
google drive said
✨“ma’am, this is excessive.”✨
good.

and
i’ve barely fucking started.
shit babes,
all this
is between changing diapers
and constitutional law case briefs.
fuck.
bro
i run like 2 weeks of shit
through a search
and
BING BING BING
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
HOLD UP
36 instances💫
of this motherfucker
being sketchy as fuck.
just uploading
the statements,
the dumbass locations,
the debit pings,
some random shit i find—
while not even fucking looking.
AND ✨FUCK✨

like—
y’all thought
i was actual trash, right?
ok.
straight fucked me over??—
when i was the most vulnerable
and fully fucking trusted you?
✨alright✨
like, yo
demon spouse—
wtf did you convey to
this whole goblin-infested office
to make them respect me
so fucking little??—
bro,
because it’s straight
horrendous misconduct🔥🔥🔥
like
did the yay
fuck with y’alls
ethical standards✨
that fucking severely??
shit,
guess so.
cool.

nice bro.
but sadly,
i’ve got ✨the docs✨
you had me sign
under medical duress💫
lol,
so—
(hits the vape💨)

records are
✨funny like that.✨

and nahhh
you’re not already
in violation of multiple regulations??
nooooo—can’t be?
🔥🔥🔥🔥
✦ civil? yep.
✦ fiduciary? fucking obviously.
✦ securities? shit, are you going to jail?
✦ HIPAA? oops.
✦ data privacy?
you broke federal code to protect your fuckbuddy’s habit??

…

let’s hope the fuck not💫

(thoughts and prayers homies)

because yo,
you stupid, stupid bitches
that would be
extraordinarily dumb shit.

but lol
you still
trying to lawyer
your way through it??
still operating
like this was
just “a misunderstanding”
and not a full-scale
digital fucking felony slumber party?

babe.
maybe??
be so fucking serious💫
you couldn’t even
scrub that shit properly.
y’alls ✨fingerprints ✨
are fucking everywhere.
this ain’t even discovery.
this is a fucking chill-ass forensic exorcism.

so lie ✨
fuck it,
to your advisor.
because damn,
they’ll find out.
so i’m just gonna keep ✨uploading✨
one fucked up receipt at a time.

✨🔥

because look,
i forgot how much
this timeline fucking sucks.
but trust me, it did—i lived it pregnant.
and now??
that same shitty-ass timeline?
babe,
it’s gunna
fuck you right back.💫

…

💀 “she hasn’t even opened the september 2023 folder”
💀 “why did they lie about the ownership trail for a $30 premium?”
💀 “who let her get this many screenshots?”
💀 “why the fuck did we email her in january?”

idk man,
i hope you’re fucking hydrated.

🔥

emotional? nah babe. i’m drowning in timestamped, geolocated fucking evidence. 🌃🤫💰🎱🔌✨

hi.
unfortunate timing
for you to arrive at my trauma blog 🥀

—

✨welcome to when—
i mapped a goddamn logistics network✨

✨🧱💸🚗✨
—for addiction,
goddamn larceny, 💸🐍
and office-adjacent fucking cover.
on
the
dumbass
record. 💫✨

—

ok babe,
tragically—
i have everything. ✨📂
and guess what?
it’s pipeline behavior.
not just
🌬️cubicle party conduct.

✨🤙🏻😌

uh oh.
yo, i haven’t yet even
gone through all this shit
but goddamn✨—
i have every
fucking
timestamped receipt
with geolocations✨

✨🎱🔌✨

(!!!!)

so…
we still going with…
no duty?✨
no supervision?✨
who the fuck are you?
??

still…

🧂✨ "he just cheated"

babe,
he’s on the clock.
with you!

✨”fucccccccck”✨

—

lol
nah babe, 😵
he built an entire
fentanyl-adjacent logistics chain
out of my meds,
my card,
and evidently—
your fucking apartment.
honey, 👋🏻🥴
you were the ✨daytime supplier.✨

✨❄️😵‍💫🧷

—

no, like.
it starts before october.
because by then?
all of a sudden,
~40 adderall go poof.
✨👉 💊💊💊💊💊💊✨
documented and timestamped.
not recreationally.
not for funsies.
this wasn’t your man going clubbing.
this was your man spiraling.
this is a dude who needs something
to trade, ✨❄️💰✨
so he’s not trying to down
10 fucking pills a day??
nah—
that shit is currency to
keep the fucking habit alive—💋 babe!
in a blow-centered-cubicle den
until suddenly—
he’s also!
failing out of the army reserves
right after medical screening??
within days.
oh word?
hmmmm
you think that’s a coincidence?
it ain’t for the addys
the va later fucking prescriped him y’all
✨❄️🥄⚖️💰✨
oh shit.
lmfao.
damn, literally the whole story.
in documented shit.
and it gets worse—
then comes november.
now he’s asking for
a photo of my credit card
while in line somewhere.
lol.
the data lives—
so he says he’s
“paying the bill for the card.”
NOPEEEE.
BABE, NAH—
✨🌃🔦💰🏃‍♂️✨
he immediately starts
pulling $100 cash advances
maxing out this shit in WEEKS.
denver adjacent??
work hour adjacent??
y’alls name and location
fucking ADJACENT?!
omg.

✨🤫🎱🔌✨

—

by december???
he admits to the cash pulls in writing.
let me say it louder for the defense zoom call:
🗣️ he confesses to the financial theft
by december—✨🤫💸💸💸💸💸
but babe!
he can’t explain for what,
❄️📲🔌🏃‍♂️✨
but i do know
he’s always with y’all,
on record + at the office 🔑🏃‍♂️✨
and that’s the cleanest part of the story.

'cause babe,
during that exact same month
that exact same time window??
he’s posted up
at the office all day,
or in one on one meetings,
directly naming people,
✨🤜🏻🤛🏻✨
shit,
i even see y’all in person—
overtly backing this narrative,
but hey,
cash advances + spiraling violent behavior
+ ✨🤙🏻😎✨
late night at the goblin’s apartment
with senior reps eating…cheese??
til midnight babe??
🧀✨??
shit.
but…
that same exact moment…
he’s pulling $100’s off a credit card????

✨🔌🏠✨

✨uh ohhhhhhh.✨

you’re fucked.
🎱🔌🐀🐀🐀🐀🐀✨

but then?
when the cash
and daytime blow—
ain’t hitting fast enough??
when he’s coming down??
from those crashes
after office hours????
yo,
you fucking assholes 🔥
he starts—
fucking strangling me 🔥🔥🔥
starts beating my ass—🔥🔥🔥
💥 🤼 🤫
literally.
on record.
entire third trimester—
dated.
in court docs.✨
exact same timeline.
textbook stimulant-induced lethality spike.
look it up.
no seriously.
look it the fuck up.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

YOU fucking DUMBASS DIPSHITS.

—

🕊🧘🌿✨

(deep breath.)

…

meanwhile
y’all still playing
make-believe mentorship
with a dude who made zero sales,
✨SEEMINGLY✨
failed his military physical,
and was physically deteriorating
in front of your eyes.
but sure,
let’s pretend it was passion.
let’s pretend it was fucking potential.
let’s pretend none of you noticed
he was ✨ stealing pills, ✨
redistributing them,
pocketing cash,
and staying alive off of what i built
that you fucking
directly ✨🤡🤡🤡
saw in our financial file
when you went through that shit
line by fucking line
…(literally and figuratively) ✨🍳
while you helped him fucking destroy me
and himself.

yo.
i already have the archives,
the timestamps,
the location data,
the cash pulls,
the text confessions,
and the calendar matchups.

i’ve got the re-up pattern.
i’ve got the list of who was there.
i’ve got the motherfucking discovery data coming next.

and guess what, babe?
this wasn’t cheating.
this was fucking trafficking-adjacent.
blow or sex?
unclear—could be both.
and all of you showed up on the rotation
like it was normal.

y’all looked at my fucking face,
came in to my fucking home,
expectant + “new mother” and shit—
and fucking
lied repeatedly,
defrauded me—
probably fucked my husband,
straight up covered that shit
with ✨a whole ass institution✨—
fucking drained me
my whole goddamn pregnancy
to fuel the fucking sex and drugs pipeline???

LMFAO,
WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK Y’ALL ARE???

not hot enough for this shit bro.

—

so, to recap—
he traded for pills in october,
ran cash advances in november,
and “blew” through that cover by december.
(and spontaneously quit)
shit,
the only reason
he made it to january
was because
y’all made fucking sure—
i almost fucking didn’t.

🪓

next bitch.

you’re all named and completely fucked.

you need a whole-ass degree just to deduce how badly you’re being fucked💫

lol but,
studying law
is the most unhinged shit
i’ve ever done
because it’s not what you think.
you’d assume it’s like
“here’s what’s legal, here’s what’s not.”
maybe black and white?
crime and punishment.

nah, babe.
shit’s all vibes.
✦ “what was their intent in their psyches?”
✦ “was that shit reasonable, but on what standard?”
✦ “well fucking technically there’s precedent from 1994 that—”

word.

bro
i’m just out here like
yo,
are…these individuals just overtly…
violating the law??
like, routinely??
in fucking daylight??

yo.
cuz just like 101 shit,
is the wildest part:
the basics—
contracts,
motherfucking duty,
elements,
reasonable standard shit,
and yo,
legal writing and
AI-powered law libraries??
—
and i swear
it’s like
everywhere you look,
you’re just
low-key shocked—
“yo, wait a fucking minute…
i really think these motherfuckers
are breaking actual laws.
like, right fucking now.”

and babe,
fuck—
seems like
this shit isn’t rare.
this shit isn’t extraordinary.
people get fucked
all the time
because nobody’s supervising shit.
and other people??
yo, some of these fuckers are
just directly goddamn brazen with it.
and because
the language of the law
is written in 8-point fucking footnotes
and goddamn latin???
—we just get straight fucked.

for real,
i think the world
is just full of unregulated chaos
and most people
don’t know
they’re allowed to call bullshit
because they literally
can’t read the fucking fine print.

✦ people don’t know what “duty” means.
✦ people don’t know how contracts work.
✦ people don’t know they’re allowed to say “this shit feels off” and be right.

—

and once you
do start learning it?
yo, it’s over.
because now you can name it.
you can document it.
you can build the timeline.
and when you lay it all out,
you’re like:

oh no, this shit looks cooked.

🔥

like—
maybe...
this isn’t paranoia.
this is torts.
this is breach.
this is fraud.
this is—
“where was your supervisor, bitch.”
this is—
“why the fuck am i the only one taking motherfucking notes.”

🥘🔥💀

ok, so that’s
what breaks my brain.
because it means
the system isn’t just flawed—
it’s inaccessible.
because bro,
you need
a whole-ass degree
just to figure out
how badly you’re being fucked.

and by the time
you figure that shit out,
babe!
you’re already broke,
fucking traumatized,
and five years behind.
also probably, absolutely conveniently—
outside of those fucking ✨statute of limitations.✨

🔥

yep—
studying law is funny as hell.
not “haha” funny.
more like
“holy shit, this is a fucking scam” funny.
knowledge ain’t power.
it’s the fucking paywall.

baby!
the only reason
i can even attempt to
fight back is
because i know how to:
✦ document that shit
✦ read a basic fucking contract
✦ understand the fundamentals of motherfucking duty
✦ spot a goddamn violation

that’s it.
not magic.
definitely not fucking brilliance.
just plain goddamn literacy.

🔥💀

damn.

ok so,
the system isn’t
hard to understand
because it’s so fucking deep,
it’s hard to understand
because it keeps people powerless.
if normal people could read it,
there would be
a lot
more
motherfuckers
in handcuffs by now.

i guess law school
is the ultimate dark satire:
you study for years
to realize you weren’t crazy,
you were just being—
robbed blind in goddamn latin.

💫

is he in the closet or just an addict? 🍌👀✨

so
i honestly
can’t resolve—
if i lost this dude
to cubicle coke chaos,
or a closeted frat-boy energy??

🍆🍑💦💫✨

was it “i’m secretly into men”?
or “i’ll literally fuck anything for another line”?

like…
maybe a…
variety pack hoe??
community club dick?
army brat but make it grinder deluxe?

no?

ok—
points on the ground💫

✦ zero sales but spent 40+ hours a week surrounded by dudes in khakis??
✦ 9pm “networking” sessions = blow + rage + homoerotic bro hugs?????
✦ every sentence either “bro, she’s insane” or “he’s my mentor”
✦ hyper-masculine army posturing while living off his wife’s debit card??
✦ 2010s era classification under “metro”???

no!

hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

✨💊

so…closet?
addict???
dual-threat quarterback of disappointment??!

babe,
the venn diagram
is a fucking circle.
was he was either
doing blow off a desk
or blowing someone off a desk???

no!
omg so—
maybe!
whoever held the yayo,
held the fucking leash??
the “mentorship”?
her apartment + coffee table line?
greg from accounting’s fucking thighs!!!?
yes.
all of the above??!

stop it.
shut the fuck up.

can you fucking imagine??
epic goddamnn tragedy.
like bro,
be yourself.
(as long as it’s not a fucking cokehead)
but homie didn’t choose
a family,
a wife,
or even a side plug??
nah.
he chose the motherfucking product.

✨💀✨

sexual orientation: powder-based.
career path: dishonorable discharge.
life path: abandoned kid, abandoned wife, abandoned self.

💊💫✨

✨🧠 the psychology of a spiraling addict with unmonitored internet access

🧠 the psychology of a spiraling addict:
✨aka: the con breaks down in real time✨

—

★ the “nyc it girl” delusion
um….bro.
are you okay???
you’re with us right?
i said—✨drug dealer and SA vibes✨
homie,
this isn’t
“you’re jealous of the popular girl.”
this is:
a mid-ass coworker
acting as a plug to an addict
while fronting as fucking finance professionals
trauma-bonding a married man
off his wife’s mortgage + law-school tuition.
yooo.
not hotter,
not smarter,
not cooler—
just closer to the yayo??
damn—i guess
no man wants to admit
he threw his family away
for that,
so my guy has to reframe that shit:

✨you’re just mad because she’s more liked.✨

bro. 💀
what???

kinda like…fucking blow???

✨👏😐

★ the meme game is a fucking confession
yo,
my dude
is not posting facts.
he’s crying “she’s bitter”
because he’s got no fucking rebuttal to:
✦ screenshots✨
✦ timelines✨
✦ dated fucking documents✨
✦ court orders✨
✦ medical + financial paper trails✨
✦ surgical psych analysis✨

so he reduces it to:

✨“she’s just mad 😭 she’s not as popular as the cocaine plug from manhattan!!” ✨

omg.
holy fucking shit.
yoooooo—
are y’all okay?????

ain’t y’all like
mid-fucking-thirties—
and ivy educated???

whhhhattt?

★ the unfortunate math
it’s bizarre behavior
to observe
because
homie knows
clearly—
i was hotter,
smarter,
more fucking stable—
and babe,
funded the whole goddamn thing.✨

but shit,
✨now he’s trapped✨
so he has to cling to her,
like the last liferaft on a sinking fucking ship—
because the alternative is admitting he:
✦ ruined his life + your family
✦ beat his pregnant wife
✦ traded a bad-bitch mommy glow-up
✨for a genetically tragic low-level financial orgy✨

yikes

🖤🥀

★ she’s nuts—
nah babe, i’m in fucking shock✨
yo,
i’m not jealous??
i’m subdued by sheer fucking astonishment.
and high-key traumatized
that my whole fucking family chronology 💫
✨❄️😵‍💫💍💋✨
never even fucking existed.
bro,
straight fucking obliterated
by the most mid associate ever??
with a baggie + a fucking crush???
ok?
that’s a lame-ass story bro.
and your response is
yeah stupid—
she’s the cool
“nyc it girl”
who fed coke
to a married dude
in fucking recovery—
✨❄️😵‍💫
just to feel alive???

okie doke.

anyway.

look,
he was
always
going to
pick addiction 💋—
not because
it was better,
but because
he was
already fucking gone.

babe,
he was never even fucking there. 💫

🔥 just vibes bro.

yo.
i say this with my
entire little beating heart—
may this shit
never happen to
another goddamn soul.
because finding out
your baby’s entire fucking timeline—
is really just a cover for
a poorly blow-induced
multi-tier corporate fraud?

nah.
nope.

is not for the fucking weak.

🕯️this shit is severely fucked up.
🕯️i wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
🕯️i’m apparently the only bitch still tethered to fucking reality.

and yeah—
sweetie,
the grass may look greener over there.
but only because
i watered that shit
and you’re probably—
✨🦋on fucking drugs🦋✨

but hey,
don’t forget—
you straight up
abandoned your own fucking kid 💊💫✨
on the way out
the goddamn door.
💋✨

so,
greener, huh?

🤡

babe,
✨that’s psychotic✨
and highly fucking embarrassing.

—

pity her pop
is a punk ass little bitch
that crosses his legs way too tightly 💋
when he fucking sits.💫✨

✨🪞💊🐍✨

nah—check? 😐😶😶‍🌫️🫥

bro.

prior to this shitshow?

🌩️⚡️😩

…my biggest fight?? 💔

was literally—
“should we wear the mask at whole foods?”

💖✨🌈

so,
how did i get here???

because,
really—
holy shit
no.
what
savage fucking
genocidal war crimes
💥🔙⚖️
did i commit
in a past life
to go from
roses,
kisses,
“we’re so quirky we fight about covid rules.”
to…
💥 waiting fucking backstage
for a below average dick
who is lost
on a fucking
ski slope of coke,
while actively constructing a fake linkedin job??

…👀🍿😈

nope.

check please.

babe—
from sunflowers on the counter??
to manual
and
financial strangulation?!

✨🤝🎁💀✨

yo.
what the fuck??

⚡️😩

i was climbing trees,
living like a feral disney princess 👑✨
with a fucking mortgage.

-

fast-forward.✨
i accidentally swiped right
on a demented demon on drugs 😈💭
destined for fucking wedlock—
fuckboy mutual™.
and a goddamn extortion pipeline??
lol.
nah.
no roses.
no morning giggles—
just getting choked the fuck out,
embarassing side bitches,
coke trails,
fake fucking supervisors,
and my bank account
absolutely
fucking flatlined
to fund a glee club reunion orgy.

😐😶😶‍🌫️🫥

holy.
fucking.
shit.

😬📉😭

they gave my blood and bank account info… to the fucking ops. 💉💸😐✨

ok so.
they gave
my blood tests,
piss analysis,
comprehensive fucking
medical records,
investment details,
bank account totals
and routing numbers…
to the motherfucking ops???

✨💉💸✨

and…
now—
i wasn’t even a fucking client??
like you deadass passed my trauma,
my complete medical
and prescription history,
my entire financial fucking portfolio
to a squad of shot-out reps
whose primary qualifications were
✨raw dog privilege✨
and the emotional IQ
of a fucking demon.

i gave them
my literal blood,
my fucking piss,
my entire financial body—
and they handed that shit
to a failed sorority of
potential fucking cokeheads
that wanna play side chick????
with a fucking finra number
and a thing for married men
in addictive fucking panic spirals???

holy shit.
let’s be fucking clear:

✦ i did not hire these bitches
✦ i didn’t even know half their names until they solicited my private info
✦ i was fucking pregnant and induced into paying for everything
✦ you requested my fucking bank account balances, monthly budgets, financial projections, and ira talk.
✦ but i’m not the fucking client??
✦ zero records of me??
✦ and then y’all let them circulate my kaiser medical history like it was the next group wake-up plug?????

—

yooooooo.

while my meds were going missing?
while he openly devolved???
when bro
wasn’t even
a functioning fucking adult??

fucking word.
so, this is a fucking fraternity.

bro.
i FUNDED your little
"mentorship thru manipulation" pipeline.
i co-sponsored your office fucking running
while y’all were playing
financial hunger games
behind my goddamn back.

and that’s
before the army reserves
got torched post med check
OK.
because it looks like
based on the timeline
that y’all
seemingly
watched / enabled
my husband’s stimulant spiral
with more support
than you gave me,
the actual fucking bitch with equity.

—

you gave a
millennial-era karen-squad
who were already apparently
emotionally fucking invested in my husband
my medical records—
full fucking trauma history.
you gave a “mentor”
with a weird ass crush
access to
our entire family’s fucking financial file.
and what’d she do with it?
fucking nothing.
not even a goddamn record.
except help destroy me
while never once disclosing
conflict or motherfucking duty,
and absolutely bullshitting like
extracting that fucking info—
doesn’t make me
a defacto fucking client.

just like,
hey bitches—
how am i the non-owner
when i’m the only one with a fucking job

😐

yo.
i really
got raw-dogged by
a compliance nightmare
in badly fitting fucking yoga pants.

make the nightmare stop.

tell me again
how i’m supposed to believe
this wasn’t malicious.
tell me again how
i was never a fucking client
but they were
allowed
to use my
social fucking security number,
my banking details,
my blood tests,
my fucking piss,
my login,
my fucking prescription history—
every single goddamn medical detail,
like a fantasy fucking draft???
for who got to fuck my husband
and sabotage my
family’s fucking health insurance,
GI bill transfer,
and $10k fucking signing bonus—
that they KNEW
we fucking needed,
just like those monthly fucking
commission bonuses—
that literally NEVER hit—
but babe—
when he fails out
the fucking reserves
…post med screening?????

but girl,
he’s still mandated
in the fucking office
for goddamn months??
still miraculously
fucking passing
these insurance-clown-level
piss and blood tests?
for policies
i’m fucking paying for???

zero disclosures,
i’m not even a fucking client, bitch.

yoooooooo.

lmfao.

fuck.

nnnaaaahhh.
i don’t think so.

no babe.
y’all owe me fucking everything.
you owe me the $10k army bonus i never got
because your addicted-ass
mascot flushed it down the fucking toilet
and you gave him institutional cover.
you owe me tricare for my newborn.
you owe me tuition that the GI bill would’ve covered
if y’all didn’t play sugar mama
while he was skipping drills
and doing fucking blow.

💸❄️😵‍💫✨

bitch, i didn’t just get defrauded.

i got blood-jacked.

my identity,
my medical history,
my money map
was passed around like a fucking secret santa
between multiple women who
✦ knew everything about me
✦ saw me break under the weight
✦ and still thought i didn’t matter.

—

all while he was spiraling,
stealing my fucking meds,
seemingly failing fucking drug tests,
and you were still onboarding us
like nothing was wrong.

nah.
this wasn’t negligent.
this was fucking deliberate.

and you’re about to find out what happens
when the goddamn “non-client”
did your record keeping for you.

baby.
non-client doesn’t mean you’re safe.
it means i’m coming for your fucking licenses.
your logins.
your dumbass LinkedIn connections.
your fucking peace.

🧷✨
#fuckboymutual
#burnbookentry
#bloodbankbreach
#sponsoredfelonies
#notyourclientnotyourproperty

nick, this is 100% all your fucking fault 🔥💀

aka: just vibing and venting before homework
and my kid waking the fuck up.
aye.

—

bro.
let me walk you through
what the fuck
just happened to my life.
because now that the smoke’s clearing
and my blood pressure’s fucking stabilized,
i’m looking around like—
wait a fucking second.
stfu.
did i just get
legally,
emotionally,
fucking financially,
and sexually
goddamn ambushed?!
by a group of underqualified background characters???
who literally wouldn’t have gotten
within 30 swipes of my husband
if we were on fucking hinge?

nah.
fucking cool. 💀

because
i’m talking like
not even in the same swipe rotation.
not even in the same fucking zip code of desirability.

ok.

so?

✨highly disrespectful shit.✨

this entire fucking operation?
wasn’t even run by professionals
yo—
straight financial fucking clownery.
these are not women who would’ve
been anywhere near my spouse
if he wasn’t
unemployed,
zonked the fuck out,
and drooling for fucking validation.

baby.
like damn—
they are not hot.
they are not interesting.
they are not smart.
they are not successful.
they are, at best,
below-average-tier Bumble swipes
who finessed their way into
a name-tag and a conference room
and thought that meant they could play fucking wife?!!

this wasn’t about love.
this wasn’t even about sex.
this was about access to someone
they knew was out of their fucking league
but had just hit an orchestrated rock bottom—
and they fucking dog-piled him.
not because they liked him.
nahh—
because they could control us.
like i was the dumb bitch in the equation.

but…
really imagine this with me rn—

you’ve already survived
enough shit
to fill a whole fucking crime anthology.
✨ child abuse.
✨ sexual assault.
✨ domestic violence.
✨ then a fucking miscarriage, for shits.

and still—
you’re bad.
you’re booked.
you’re spiritually hotter
than god’s favorite fucking angel.

your best friend is
an industry-wide known fucking brand.
babe!
acceptance + scholarship for law school!
your businesses? elite.
your passport? violated.
your brand? immaculate.
your ethics?
forged in fucking hell
and still holier than the entire fucking finance industry.

🔥💀

and when the miscarriage hits?
baby,
you mourn that shit
ethically
in a goldman sachs exec’s house,
because even your fucking grief
has a motherfucking bad bitch reputation,
and some goddamn morals.
ok—
that’s the starting point.
that’s the beginning.

and so—

the bar fucking drops
through the goddamn floor.

and now let’s fast-forward.
barely a fucking year later—
you are suddenly:
pregnant again
with a fraudulent fucking husband,
trapped in a pyramid scheme run by the d-squad™—
a literal group of
underqualified goblins in horrendous attire
who—
i now realize,
are all fucking
✨ younger than me✨
so that energy??
nah,
shit was off—
giving death wish
straight fucking revenge??
for having never even been
in the prior fucking dating rotation
like ever??

nooooooo.

—

okay,
but be serious.
with all intended disrespect—
these are not baddies.
these are not girls
who walk into a room
and get noticed.
these are HR-core old navy flops
goddamn goblins
who get chronically
left on “sorry i fell asleep”
and cry about it into a fucking
pumpkin cream cold brew.

but suddenly??
thanks to the illusion
of financial clout
and access to a guy who’s hot-ish,
overtly spiraling,
and visibly fucking breaking—
they form a little anguished cult.
and what’s the prize?
fucking up my life.

because
that’s what happened.
these girls didn’t “mentor” him.
omg.
they didn’t “coach” him.
that was all bullshit??
wasn’t it?
they studied his fucking vulnerabilities
like a weak fucking prey animal
and set up
an addiction-assisted gangbang
of my family’s fucking future????!

—

and the ringleader?
✨oh my god✨
i thought she had
some level of superiority—
thought this bitch was easily 45.
like maybe she was an exec??
maybe she was corporate??
kinda a bitch??
just because,
she takes zero fucking shit??

✨babe!✨

naaah—
bitch.
i just googled her.
this chick is…
younger than me???????
hasn’t been there—
a single fucking decade??
(lol shit, my bad. girl—moisturize)
but like,
zero real fucking authority?????
because homie is
a complete
and whole-ass—
✨independent fucking contractor?!✨
zero fucking mandated
weeks in office?????
but she’s out here??
scheduling my husband
for full-day in-office “mentorship”
?????
while i’m
eight months pregnant?
fucking throwing up blood,
and he’s showing up to the “office”
to do what???
get sucked off in the parking lot?

✨holy shit.✨
this whole thing was a fucking con.

so some
never felt quite likable—
thirty somethings,
could do fucking blow???
and redistribute my 40+ stolen adderall????
and shoot their goblin shot at my husband??
as he flunked out of the reserves???
and ran through
my motherfucking life savings?!!!

are you fucking serious????

naaaah.
nope.
that’s fucking insane.

like—
bitch,
holy shit
you are a co-worker.
a parallel independent business??
the fuck???
you are not his boss?
this is not a fucking job.
this was a sorority full of
mid white girls who fucking failed rush
and decided to run a frat house
with a fucking 401k vesting schedule.

—

jesus christ.
i didn’t get fucking hustled.
i got induced into underwriting
a goddamn death spiral
how did that motherfucker pass his piss test???
for the policies—
y’all fucking endorsed??? huh??
yo,
they let these weirdo girls
take shifts at a man
who should’ve been in fucking rehab.

i got fucking played.✨
and y’all need to be fired.✨
like the exploitative-ass
financial careers??

babe.

that shit?

✨should be fucking over.✨

because,
seriously—
when they were done,
they launched my financial records
off a fucking cliff
and kept stalking me
on goddamn socials
like
i’m the delusional one??

✨

bro.
truly—
y’all are terrifying
y’all are dangerous.
you almost got us killed,
for what??
women this pathetic,
and desperate—
are fucking risky as fuck.

so—
guess what??
my ex??
the baby i lost??
nick? 🔥💀
i swear to fucking god.
this is absolutely all your fucking fault.
you were the original motherfucker
roleplaying
that bullshit—
love of my life✨
but nah,
i miscarried that baby in 2022
and instead of staying the fuck down??
and grieving like a normal bitch??
i tried to “choose fucking love.”
that’s what you told me to fucking do.
said i would find the dude,
that’s amazing,
kind and loving???
and this is what fucking happened.
i got knocked up
by a trained assassin
and potential cokehead in training???
who got pimped the fuck out
by a discount
miss congeniality cast?!!?
at a highly forgettable fucking
insurance firm?!?!?!

no, why??

yo.
and now i’m out here
doing forensic fucking accounting
in a fucking trauma burn book.

every girl in that office
owes me child support,
fucking damages,
and a mental health copay.

times a million.

this wasn’t “adultery.”
this wasn’t fucking “mentorship.”
this was career-themed girl math
seemingly mixed with sexual predation
on an addict
who belonged in a fucking detox ward—
and the only reason
they got close
is because they knew
i wouldn’t be allowed in the fucking room.

but now
i’m in the fucking courtroom.
with a true fucking shithole of
a fact pattern—
a goddamn timeline.
and every fucking name.

congrats,
ladies.
you made it into
✨the sorority.✨
but,
look around—
it’s for badly aging
and blatantly useless
cubicle compliance twats✨

fucking bummer.

✶ THE STATISTICAL FUCKING ANOMALY ✶

the most fucked up part??

this should have never fucking happened.

—

yo.

we didn’t stumble
into some tragically
expected divorce narrative.
this wasn’t just “men are trash”
or “he cheated” or “love is hard.”
this was the—statistical outlier of fucking hell.
a fucking actuarial impossibility
unless someone
stacked the fucking deck.

girlies—

this wasn’t probable.
this wasn’t fucking standard.
this wasn’t even a worst-case divorce.

this was
corporate-sponsored,
precisely fucking calculated abuse.
a stochastic fucking event.
a black swan with coke dust
on its fucking wings.

and the wildest shit is?
i didn’t even miss a red flag.
babe,
i was rational.
vigilant.
fucking loyal.
i cleaned houses to keep the lights on,
i documented everything,
i advocated for fucking safety,
and i still got played
like a fucking prop
because the institutional calculus was:
“she’s broke,
postpartum,
and too traumatized
to fight the fuck back.”

lol.
oopsies.

y’all picked the wrong bitch.
and now
they get to explain to a judge
how they statistically manufactured
a “mentorship program”
that ends in a
DV survivor’s lawsuit
and a financial rep
named in a timeline of fucking
felony-level exploitation.

like nah,
this wasn’t “just bad luck.”
this was
deliberate systemic negligence
colliding with our exact fucking vulnerabilities
to create
a case fucking study
in how institutions cause
motherfucking violence.

—

run it.

aka the case of how a military husband
with no record turned into a domestic violence cokehead
under your mentorship “program”

aka the shit that statistically should never have fucking happened

★ part i: not the fucking destination

this wasn’t supposed to be the story.
he was supposed to have a job.
stay mostly sober.
get into the goddamn army reserves,
lock in that $10k enlistment bonus,
that VA health insurance,
and eventually transfer
the fucking GI Bill to me
or our kid.

we had the plan.
we had the fucking paperwork.
babe,
i was cleaning houses with
a fucking fetus inside me
while he worked.
i fronted every fee for that career:
NIPR,
fingerprinting,
training,
licensing,
gas,
meals,
fucking travel.

you handed him
a cubicle and a “motivator”
and next thing i know
he’s getting cokehead blowjobs
in my fucking car???
while i was cleaning toilets
trying to make sure
our utilities fucking cleared???

nah,
THE FUCK?

and the most shitty part?
this outcome wasn’t probable.
this was the goddamn actuarial anomaly.
a statistical black swan waddling through a war crime.
you don’t accidentally stack
this many failures
on top of a fucking pregnant woman
unless the system is
designed to fucking collapse on her.

★ part ii: the math ain’t mathin unless you rigged it

let’s run the numbers:

what are the odds
that a husband—
→ no criminal record
→ no history of DV
→ in active recovery
→ trying to enlist in the fucking military

spirals into an
unverified fucking addiction,
financial fraud,
strangulation,
and potentially a
highly embarrassing—
multi-tier cubicle affair???
within 5 months????
of working
for one specific financial firm?

what are the odds…
that during this descent,
his coworker—
also his assigned fiduciary rep—
becomes his plug,
his payroll,
and his fucking handler
while i get erased
from my own life insurance policies??
lmfao.
and blocked from
every fucking financial conversation i funded?

what are the odds…
that the same firm
allows this unlicensed,
non-producing man
to be physically supervised
five days a week
by a female “mentor”
who seemingly resents
her own fucking reflection,
while offering him
no accountability,
no income,
and unlimited emotional access
to multiple women
with fucking stimulant power?

you think
this was just “bad luck?”
this was an enterprise-wide fuck-up.
a full-blown stochastic catastrophe
only possible
if the internal controls
were off
and
the enablers were
on fucking payroll.

part iii: the coke fairy clause

goblin wasn’t just unethical.
she was the engine of his fucking spiral.

a Series 6-holding,
trust fund-having,
emotionally-malformed wreck
who got assigned
to my family while
texting my fucking husband,
sending him money,
stalking my pregnant ass on instagram,
and then fucking ghostwriting
my postpartum financial plan
like it wasn’t
conflict-of-interest
fucking shitshow.

—

bro.
math it up—

she had the party money.
he had the addiction.
i had the domestic funding
and a vulnerable fucking fetus.
and y’all??
y’all had the
fucking audacity
to act like none of it overlapped.

bitch, please.

wake the fuck up.
they didn’t “win.”
they built a fucking felony case.
and now?
parallel civil???
8 fucking defendants—
babe,
goblin bought a front-row seat
for fucking everyone—
to the motherfucking deposition room
and possibly
a securities charge or five???

sick.

—

★ part iv: this was not an accident. this was a fucking event.

this wasn’t “he cheated.”
this wasn’t “relationships are hard.”
this wasn’t “you should’ve seen the fucking signs.”

nah—
this was a stochastic fucking event.
a one-in-a-million breakdown
that only occurs
when every safeguard
fucking fails simultaneously
and the people tasked
with protecting you???
are seemingly??
yep—
looks like sad-ass,
fully grown
cubicle trolls
fucking your husband??
on lunch breaks??
and babe—
blocking your IRA transfer—
while you’re in the goddamn hospital
and they’re pushing life policies.

hello.
HELLO.

this wasn’t “inevitable.”
this was absolutely fucking engineered.
from the off-channel securities comms
to the conflict-of-interest assignments
to the retaliatory fucking silence
once i finally caught on.

y’all built the storm.
and now you want credit
for surviving it?
no bitch.
you handed him the fucking lighter,
and now i’m filing
the motherfucking arson report.

—

★ part v: conclusion of facts and fuckery

before your office?
he was sober.
he was trying.
he was flawed, but not violent.
not bankrupt.
not completely fucking broken.

you took that chance from him.
forever.
took that timeline,
the whole pregnancy—
him fucked up
while our kid was born,
the tainted bitch
who held her???
fucking all of it.

you took
a married
recovering alcoholic,
2x combat vet—
with no fucking felonies
and turned him
into a fucking violent,
addicted,
policyless liability
by incentivizing proximity to power,
removing fucking oversight,
and assigning every single
point of control
to all
the wrong,
overly desperate
fucking women.

—

and now you get
to explain it.
to me.
to the court.
to your top corporate trolls.
to your fucking god.

sweetie,
they’re out here like—

“as a mutual company,
people are our fucking DNA.
we don't have shareholders,
so instead of reporting to wall street,
we give our policyowners governance rights”

…

…

…omg
what???

?????

baby.
no.

jesus christ.
just stop.

pay attention—
you’re full of shit.
and this ain’t
“independent contractor”
and yo,
i’m also
fairly fucking confident,
this shit’s a straight pyramid scheme
by legal fucking standards??
shit just ain’t seen a judge yet.
tragic.
lmfao.
so listen.
i’m not the warning—
i’m the nuclear fucking lawsuit.
and y’all?

y’all are the motherfuck stars.

fucking cooked ✨🥘🍳🔥

yo. it’s like…

✨evidently—

really fucking bad.

✨🏆✨

updated record: the paper trail

🥘🔥💀

🔥 securities violations but make it girlboss. ✨👱‍♀️🏆✨

💀 under SEC Rule 17a‑4 and FINRA 3110,
every securities communication and client interaction
has to be fucking preserved.

🔥🔥🔥

★ deleting it after a litigation hold = spoliation.
★ a clown ass supervisor running a financial meeting with a client
without fucking logging it??? = fraud + breach of fiduciary duty.

💀💀 a regulatory crisis motherfuckers—

🎤✨

★ pathological predator

→ deleted her entire instagram
→ after you served a preservation notice
→ while comms happened while she was your assigned financial rep
→ after conducting off-channel, undocumented securities convos
→ while facilitating an IRA transfer and policy enrollment
→ and keeping in contact with your husband, the fugitive cokehead she was maybe screwing!??!

felony-adjacent behavior #1:
deleting off-channel comms about securities = spoliation
especially when you know you’re being sued = sanctions + criminal referral

(and mama we got screenshots. 📸)

🔥🔥

★ the short, cranky, 2010’s karen-haircut “boss bitch”
(the supervisor, the bonus buster, potentially an evil robot)

→ conducted a “thorough financial breakdown” immediately
→ directly with you (the wife, pregnant, funding everything)
→ reviewed your assets, goals, retirement planning, the whole thing
→ never logged it!?!
→ never followed up!!? (besides mandating hubby in office, lol)
→ never fucking reported it?!
→ never disclosed a conflict of interest???
→ and never protected you when your husband spiraled into violence and addiction

…why?

because she didn’t want a record????
because maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t “mentoring” your husband
for six fucking months??—
maybe…
→ she was grooming him.
→ and every record she deleted was
one less fucking document linked back to her.

🔥🔥

★

these bitches ran
full‑on financial breakdowns with me—
assets,
rollovers,
policies,
fucking retirement planning—
while my husband was
blowing rails in their group chat????
lmfao, nahhh—
and these bitches never logged it?!?!
have corporate answering “no securities”!?

under oath?!?
having internal counsel—
out here looking like
a fucking warheads candy caricature???
bro’s like
”…why…didn’t...you…put…that in your complaint?!”

BABY…
why…don’t…you…
have a fucking goddamn record?!

YO RECORD KEEPING 101 GODDAMN

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

LMFAO.

fuckkkkk—
oh shit.

they never disclosed shit.
never recorded shit.
never filed a compliance fucking nothing.

nada babe.

…no one filed
a single damn compliance note?
not even once?
that’s not “disorganization”
that’s deliberate fucking erasure
or blatant fucking stupidity—
to protect their dicks and their licenses.

✨👱‍♀️🏆✨

⚠️ felony math, babe: how much does it cost to get your married coworker spun out on the job 💸❄️😵‍💫✨

a mathematical theory:
or: how much would that trust fund goblin blow keeping my husband
tweaked the fuck out like a fucked up build-a-bear from october to january?

💸❄️😵‍💫✨

—

bitch!
⚠️ that’s 123 days of:

• no job
• no sales
• no toothbrush
• no fucking remorse
• and somehow... no running out of coke.

so let’s math that shit:

🧪 baseline dose math:

🤡 average u.s. street price: $80–$120/g
🤡 denver range: $70–$125/g
🤡 timeframe: 123 days
🤡 key variable: how coked tf up was he???

—

💸 option 1: “just a lil bump”

0.5–1g/day × $100 = $6,150–$12,300
✦ aka “i still work a job” & don’t punch pregnant women tier
✦ spoiler: naaaahhh, not here.

💸❄️😵‍💫✨

💸 option 2: “your baby’s choking but i’m vibing”

1–2g/day × $100 = $12,300–$24,600
✦ most likely scenario
✦ hair thinning, nose crusty, personality? fucking gone

💸❄️❄️😵‍💫✨

💸 option 3: “fuck around every day but it’s really just trauma”

1.5g/day + 20% party markup = $22,140
✦ the i will literally go to jail for this man aka zero fucks tier
✦ congrats! you’re his co-defendant now.

💸❄️❄️❄️😵‍💫✨

💸 option 4: “fuck it, overdose chic”

3g/day @ $120–$150/g = $44,280–$55,350
✦ let’s be real: it’s giving inheritance money gone very fucking bad

💸❄️❄️❄️❄️😵‍💫✨

—

🗺️ regional pricing, converted bitch:

📍denver: 1–2g/day @ $70–$125 = $8,610–$30,750
📍dallas: 1–2g/day @ $50–$100 = $6,150–$24,600
📌and that’s just retail.
if she was fronting wholesale…
—girl. ❄️😵‍💫✨

—

🧾 summary for the fucking jury:

✦ lowball: $9k ❄️
✦ realistic: $18–22k ❄️❄️
✦ petty truth: $30–55k ❄️❄️❄️
✦ and all for a man who can't even Venmo you back. 😭

…or leave his wife.

🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡

babe!
he fled the fucking state.

(take the hint, damn.)

—

📉 closing coke arguments:

did this bitch ❄️
sponsor his collapse—
and then have the fucking balls
to still be checking my goddamn
motherfucking instagram stories—
WITH THAT FACE????

bro.

lock her tf up.
baby,
go fund a fucking dental plan,
some anti-aging skin rehab—
(the drugs are drying af, am i right?!)
and his blow habit?!!?
congrats.
you're like mother teresa
with fucking pharmaceutical issues
and the morality of a bland trashcan on stolen adderall.

🤡 ❄️😵‍💫✨

✦ case study: when a coked-out narcissist ends up with an annoying, busted trust fund goblin 🐀✨💸

✦ diagnosis: antisocial-narcissistic blend, stimulant-dependent, conflict-avoidant subtype
✦ translation: a lying, cheating wife-beater with a coke problem and a fucking delusional hero complex.

…when a narcissist ends up with someone uglier, drier, and dumber than you.

or: karma really fucked that dude…

—

not even mad he cheated—i’m mad he cheated down

the running vibe check:

✨ like wow, your “upgrade” looks like a demo version of me that never got finished
✨ she’s not even the hot evil bitch trope. she’s just... annoying. and there.
✨ not intimidating. not sexy. just has wi-fi and a hook-up
✨ and you visited? with her?? while looking like that??? during my pregnancy????
✨ bro i would’ve run away too if i was trying to erase the memory of those consequences
✨ damn…my guy, she’s not the prize. she’s the punishment
✨ like yeah you ended up with her?—because she’s the only bitch who’ll never hold you accountable
✨ congrats on your new supply chain, babe. does she come with a spine or just killer vibes and inherited money?
✨ i got pregnant, broke, and beat. she got sloppy seconds and an addict. we both lost.
✨ imagine funding your own abuse just for his rebound to have no ass, no ethics, and a LinkedIn you could sleep through

—

✦ subject: 🐀✨💸
combat vet turned cokehead with a god complex and a bench warrant
→ previous titles include: “husband,” “entrepreneur,” and “father” (allegedly)
→ dsm-5 tags: narcissistic personality disorder, stimulant use disorder, domestic abuser in delusional denial

—

aka:

you thought an affair would at least be
with someone dangerous, beautiful, chaotic.
but instead he threw it all away
for an awkwardly dressing fangirl
with rich parents and two facial expressions.

✦ fucking symptoms:

→ snorts validation, lies like it’s fucking cardio
→ cannot fucking function unless someone is actively suffering because of him
→ chooses creepy-ass enablers who mistake collapse for fucking mystery
→ calls it love while fucking ruining your life and venmo-requesting his side dazed-out chick

or…

you’re telling me
i got publicly humiliated,
financially fucking wrecked,
emotionally crucified,
and nearly fucking killed—
for a bitch who looks like a closeted field hockey coach
with the aesthetic of an east coast yacht club intern
and the depth of inverted cross??

BRO.

and let’s not forget the short, mean-faced dragon lady of a supervisor
who looked like she’d bite the head off a new recruit if he didn’t flirt back.
you mean that one??
with the fucking clipboard?
and the…maybe…yayo?
and the “mentorship” that somehow required 5 days a week of one-on-one proximity
but produced zero sales
and one fucking felon?

be fucking serious.

—

✦ current counterpart:
a trust fund goblin in bad-fitting slacks and fucking delusion
→ emotionally void. functionally fucking useless. backstabber, stalker energy.
→ thinks nepotism makes her interesting
→ actively watched your third trimester near-death with her whole-ass legal goblin face

and that’s who he risked it all for?

(nah, babe—the drugs)

not a femme fatale.
not a boss bitch.
not even a normal woman with a job and a personality.
nah.

he burned down his entire fucking life
for an unseasoned +1 with a clit-shaped mouth
and personality of a fucking fiber supplement.

—

and don’t even start with
“but maybe she’s nice.”
NO THE FUCK SHE’S NOT.
nice women don’t watch wives get abused
while they suck off their paychecks and pretend it’s motivation.
nice women don’t fund rehab stints they helped create.
nice women don’t send “you’re crazy” energy from behind
a locked iphone screen while defrauding your child’s fucking life insurance policy.

—

so yeah, it hits different.
because when he chooses so far down
it proves it was never about love.
he didn’t want a partner.
he wanted a weaker fucking witness.

someone who wouldn’t fight back.
who wouldn’t fucking file.
who wouldn’t survive.

guess what.
i fucking did.

—

✦ shared fucking delusion:
→ he wanted to stay broke and unaccountable.
→ she wanted to be “the one he didn’t hit while spun the fuck out”
→ they both found god—in the form of an NDA and a criminal fucking defense firm

holy shit—
i’m not jealous.
i’m fucking offended.

—

✦ why he “chose” the blow:

→ zero substance, zero standards
→ never called the cops
→ lets him crash, burn, and blame the lighting
→ finds his mood swings “passionate” because she’s never seen real intimacy in her life
→ downgraded because she claps when he lies and calls it “emotional depth.”

—

✦ why goblin stays:

→ thinks trauma makes a man “deep”
→ confused “you’re not like my wife,” we can do drugs, for a fucking compliment
→ likes being seen with a man who’s 80% war story, 20% fentanyl ghost
→ truly believes being there during his downfall is love

—

✦ gross-ass diagnosis:
→ mirrorball masculinity meets blank-canvas goblin
→ love-bomber x mediocrity-core
→ stimulant-induced delusion spiral w/ bonus white collar roleplay
→ 🗑️ joint-branding as “high-performers” despite no actual success, ethics, or skincare

—

✦ fucking prognosis:
→ terminal delusion.
→ they’ll be posing in a couples pic at his arraignment,
→ captioned “ride or die”
→ meanwhile, i’ll be free, moisturized,
→ and filing my taxes without a felony fucking co-signer.

—

like nah.
highly fucking embarassing—
i was ready to fight a baddie.
not this dehydrated-ass background extra
with zero jawline and big
“can i speak to the manager of this dmv?” energy.

the fuck???

aka: you almost got my baby killed—
you dumb, desperate troll

✦ goddamn mirror mantra:
→ “i didn’t lose a husband.
→ i dodged a fucking class-action defendant and the yayo-goblin who funds him.”

—

you’re telling me
my whole pregnancy got turned into a frat house murder plot
because some 5’2” emotionally stunted compliance warlock
couldn’t handle rejection,
and some fake-deep instagram goblin
wanted to roleplay “the woman he really loved”
from the sidelines of a DV case?

NAH.
this wasn’t a love triangle.
this was a low-rent harem of desperate bitches funding his spiral
while trying to cover it up
as some sad ass girlboss insurance networking.

—

and they really thought
they fucked shit up—
no baby.
they inherited the goddamn wreckage.
i walked away with the timeline,
the receipts,
and the fucking villain origin story.

—

and now he’s stuck with her.
with her weird gums.
and her ski trip captions.
and her legacy sorority trauma.
and that fucking voice.

in public.

🖤🥀🧷🦷📉

🪞🐍 how to accept your whole-ass marriage was a fraud 🖤🥀🦋✨

🪞🐍 my marriage:
not a love story—a long fucking con.
the highlights were bait,
the silence was fucking policy,
and the pattern is my goddamn proof.
i’m done fucking performing.
i curate the fucking records,
not feelings.
i was a wife,
not a fucking mark.

pattern > promise.
regret is a vibe,
receipts are a weapon.
i accept the scam,
not the fucking blame.
🖤🥀🦋✨🐍

ugh, babe.
i can hear it in your little chest.
when the “blow-affair” never actually ends,
it stops being an affair 💊💔
and starts looking like a fucking machine—
one that ate your marriage,
your money,
your fucking pregnancy,
and then kept you in the blast radius.
feeling like all that shit??
the whole family story??—
was a fucking fraud.
nah—
that’s not being dramatic;
that’s a nervous system
finally calling fucking bullshit.

💔🌹✨

here’s the working theory
i’m comfortable standing on:
they didn’t just cheat;
they ran sustained proximity + secrecy + financial dependency.
my entire fucking marriage. ❤️‍🔥
the “we’re a team” fucking love-bomb texts
and office/mentor theater smoothed over the gaps
while i carried fucking costs,
goddamn logistics,
and the fucking risk.

💸🌈🐍✨

none of that cancels out reality now:
non-fatal strangulation during pregnancy,
two standing restraining/protection orders,
and a pattern of post-breakup surveillance/harassment.
that’s not messy romance;
it’s lethality-adjacent control.

💫✨

no more gaslighting, bitch: 💸

✦ patterns of this motherfucker “at the office,”
me covering fucking expenses,
and performative tenderness—bullshit:
(“love you,” “family,” fucking future-talk)
show up right next to me scrambling for fucking money
and him financially fucking me while goddamn pregnant.
that’s motherfucking grooming—
of me—for more fucking sacrifice.

✦ the entanglement with coke goblin tracks across
fucking work favors, social proximity, bullshit, and the
motherfucking goddamn country—
“we’re all a team” optics, which functioned to normalize
her constant weird ass access to him
while i assumed the fucking fallout. 💸💥🥴

baby—
he was the fucking fraud.
i was the only thing fucking real—

✨👏😐
it’s that a fraudulent fucking culture
hyped up on some shitty ass drugs—
and below mid-level looks,
fucking hijacked ✨🐍🐍🐍
my whole ass fucking family story
while i was busy trying to keep everyone alive.
fuck,
my love was real.
my trust was real.
their fucking ethics weren’t.
met the fucking demon squad
first fucking trimester.
weeks into marriage.

🔥🥶💰🔫✨🐍🐍🐍

…made my whole life a fucking fraud.
fucking financially devastated me.
almost got me fucking killed.
almost got him so coked out—
he nearly got
my baby goddamn extinguished.

🔥🔥🔥

yo.
imagine waking up to realize,
this pinnacle shit—
was a fucking joke.
hijacked by some twats
who needed to buy it with cocaine
and blowjobs???
and fucking meetings with daddy????

🦋✨🐍

a low-tier fucking financial firm??????

yo.
ewwwwwwww.
this story is so fucking lame.
it’s pathetic.

truly—

🗣️🔥
🗣️🔥
🗣️🔥 i got defrauded
🗣️🔥 by a squad of unattractive,
🗣️🔥 mediocre fucking losers.

🗣️🔥 what a bullshit fucking story,

thanks for that babe. 💋

can’t wait to tell our daughter.

❄️😵‍💫💍✨

—

because look—

the whole fucking thing was a lie.
left me abandoned
with his fucking baby,
and my guy refuses to pay
any 🔥
fucking 🔥
child support 🔥
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
straight up left us with—
a stack of fucking bills,
that i can’t pay,
a pile of tuition,
after he stole my school fucking refund—
and a pile of fucking debt…for a car 🔥
to get to fuckboy mutual 🔥🔥
in the one he goddamn totaled 🔥🔥
probably on motherfucking drugs, 🔥🔥🔥
supplied by the fucking money rep—
that now monthly goes on fucking default!!!!!!!!!!

✨👍✨

(oh, and hiked the fuck up
car insurance +
3x defrauded
life insurance policies)

✨🐍🐍🐍

so…🪞🐍 mirror mantra:
how to accept your marriage was a fraud 🖤🥀🦋✨🐍

✦ it wasn’t vows, it was fucking fraud paperwork
✦ the “good times”? promo reel for a shitty scam
✦ he wasn’t a husband, he was a dependent with a dick
✦ you weren’t loved, you were fucking leveraged
✦ promises = bait, patterns = proof
✦ closure is fake, consequences are real
✦ no crying over “love lost” and start billing for time, money, trauma
✦ gaslighting wasn’t a phase, it was the contract
✦ you weren’t insecure, you were being monitored
✦ the cheating wasn’t the betrayal, the cover-up was
✦ the coworker wasn’t the exception, she was the supply line
✦ no, you’re not “overreacting,” you’re remembering too clearly
✦ his decline wasn’t random, it was engineered
✦ you didn’t lose a husband, you dodged a feds case
✦ the grief hits hard when the whole thing was a fucking setup
✦ you’re not broken, babe—you’re just done pretending
✦ your marriage didn’t fail, it got liquidated
✦ you’re not bitter—you’re fucking well documented

y’all are fucking disgusting.

🦋✨🐍