✨homicidal whores✨ with zero personality 🐑🐑🐑🐺🐑

[🧿 a little extra protection to keep these evil, dumb bitches away from me and my child]

—

yo.
you wanted
✨attention?

cool.
let’s give these
filthy-ass hoes
the
full
goddamn
fucking
spotlight 🔦

…

because…they deserve it.

🔥 bitch mode: activated. 🔥

—

💅🏼 the true bad bitch full disclosure:

i’ve never been ⚡taken out by one man.⚡
i’ve been hit from all fucking angles
by bitch-ass-made cowards
and the “women”
who fucking
solicited it to happen 💥
and called it “not their business.”

but it was.

🫂🤫🐀

✨you bimbo dipshit✨—
you weren’t watching
from the fucking sidelines.
you were standing in my kitchen
on my fucking neck.
quietly.
fucking politely.
with a drink in your hand
and my fucking name in your mouth.

✨👀✨🔪

—yo.

these weren’t innocent bitches.
they were calculated as fuck.
homicidal whores with zero personality
and too many fucking
daddy issues to function
without orbiting someone else’s life
because
you’ve never been original,
you’re just
✨ok✨ at
shape-shifting
into a bitch men can ruin
without guilt.

✨🐀💍💋✨

baby girl
i clocked
the entire fucking dumb-twat playbook
and now??
i’m naming it,
line by fucking line.

🔥 “are you still texting my abusive husband rn???”
🔥 “not confused. just a sneaky little slut with ambition and no morals.”
🔥 “if the coke didn’t rot your nose, karma will rot your reputation.”
🔥“this isn’t shade. it’s a fucking slut-tastic autopsy.”

this one’s for
the nasty bitches
who smile in your face
while eye-fucking your man
fucking over your baby
your fucking life
like if i wasn’t busy
bleeding the fuck out
and too fucking loyal to notice
you were in the corner
fucking laughing.

so let’s fucking go. 💫

because look,
you’re not messy.
you’re a fucking dangerous bitch
with no boundaries,
no fucking remorse,
and no ability to be liked
without being a slut
or fucking lying.

baby,
you couldn’t build a relationship
if your goddamn life
depended on it.
you just lurch
into other people’s lives
and play fucking pretend
until they either
fuck you
or figure you the fuck out.

⚠️🐀

then you cry.
(the white girl tears)
you fucking ghost.
and sweetie,
you’re not confused.
you’re a pussy-ass opportunist
with a shopping addiction,
no fucking identity,
and the kind of family dysfunction
you try to heal
by hurting other women.

nice, bitch.

👩🏻🤥🐍

next time you think
you can fuck with someone’s life
because you’re bored
and nobody ever held you accountable—
—

remember this:

💥💀

i don’t forgive,
i don’t forget,
nah.
i make sure
everyone fucking knows
you’re not hot.
you’re not interesting.
you’re just overly fucking available
and morally fucking bankrupt.
baby,
you weaponize softness,
feminism,
fucking girl power—
and play victim
like the annoying ass
fake white women,
you really are.

🤞🤥🤫💋

so attention all whores,
you knew exactly
what the fuck you were doing.
so don’t play dumb now.
don’t pull that
“omg i never meant to hurt anyone” shit
like you didn’t clock
every single thing
before you fucking did it.
like you weren’t waiting
for it to blow up
so you could slide in
and pretend you weren’t involved.

😇🤫😈

✨…fucking pathetic.✨

girlie,
you weren’t there for him
you were plotting on me. 💥
you were obsessed with me 💥
and needed to prove
you could steal something
i fucking built
because you have nothing of your own.
but you knew he had a kid.
you knew he had a pregnant wife.
you knew i was in the fucking hospital
while you were funding his high
and checking my page
like you earned front-row seats
to the fucking fallout.

👀👤🔪

nah sweetie,
you don’t need therapy.
you need to be fucking exiled.

✨✈️🏝️👹✨

the psychotic, hopeless slut diagnosis— 📢⚠️
babe,
the cool girl isn’t confused,
she’s fucking calculating

(aka the bitches who will fuck your man,
watch your baby cry, and call it “vibes”)

👀+🤡+❤️‍🔥+📍

bro,
these hoes are not victims.
they’re fucking strategists.
they do this shit
in sequins and
a fake-ass girl power aesthetic.
zero morals,
just alcohol breath
and ethical fucking failures.

they’ll call it
🥺 “i was just being there for him.”
🥺 “you two weren’t really together.”
🥺 “i never meant for anything to happen.”

…

🐍🍎✨

bitch.
you meant.
you planned.
you fucking benefited.

this shit is the playbook
of desperate ass sluts 👇🏻—

1. 🐍 low key insert yourself

pretend to be the friend,
the work buddy,
the fucking therapist with no license.
bring wine.
bring a line.
bring “omg i just want to help.”
aka; that’s just code for

you weren’t there to help.
you were there to fucking study me.
you sat in my house.
you held my kid.
you listened to every detail of my life
like it was fucking homework 🤡
because you knew you didn’t have shit of your own.
you wanted what i built—
without doing the work,
without carrying the fucking weight,
without living through
the fucking hell i survived to have it.

2. 🤏 bro, try to jack her vibe

you’ll notice
she starts fucking acting like you.
talking like you??
this bitch
knows your schedule better than
your fucking google calendar.
“haha we’re like twins!”
💀⚰️
nah babe.
you’re like a roach
in a badly put-together outfit.

i get it—
you couldn’t get a man on your own,
so you simulated
the baddie who had one.
you thought if you performed enough of me,
maybe he’d hand you the life
you couldn’t create for your-fucking-self.
bitch, you didn’t seduce him—
you posed as me
and hoped he was dumb enough
to fall for the coked-out fucking knockoff.

🕊️✨

3. 🫦 you’d fuck…literally anything,
that would give you a fucking compliment

you crossed lines you knew were lines

you weren’t friendly.
you were thirsty.
you were fucking computed.
you did disrespectful shit
and then dared me to fucking react
because you knew
if i called it out,
i’d look ✨dramatic.✨
that’s how bitches like you fucking operate—
slither through loopholes
and dare
to catch you with proof.
but we both know what the fuck you did.

the private jokes.
weird-ass eye contact.
favors no one fucking asked for.
lingering fucking touches
like she’s entitled to proximity.
calls it “friendly.”
you’d call it
✨“get the fuck away from my husband.”✨

4. 🎭 the fake fucking feminist exit clause

“i support women”
but she’s halfway down your man’s pants
and still thinks if
she says “queen” in a dm
you won’t notice
the fucking betrayal
seething into every fucking interaction.

you built your
moral-void fucking alibi

🥺 "she was struggling"
🥺 "he hit on me first, after the bump"
🥺 "i would never hurt her"

i bet you
fed that shit…
to anyone who’d listen
because you knew what was coming.
you needed fucking cover.
so you planted your
little fake-ass empathy bombs early
so when your name got dragged,
you could fall back on the lie
that you ever gave a fuck about me.

🕯️ thoughts and prayers, bitch.

5. 🕳️ poof, gone (but not really)

when the truth starts cracking
through the dumb fucking facade,
babe, she disappears.
but she’s watching.
fucking stalking.
refreshing your stories
like it’s fucking Love Island
and she’s the executive producer
of your fucking trauma.

😵👻

baby,
you disappeared
before the fucking
accountability showed up

you went silent.
not sorry.
definitely not self-reflective.
just fucking missing.
because you know what silence buys you:
plausible deniability.
but
let me be crystal fucking clear—
any bitch
who ghosts and lurks
is not confused.
she’s fucking guilty.
and listen you fucking whore—
your silence?
says it louder than anything
you could ever fucking text.

⚠️☠️🚨

—

🧠 the desperate pick-me bitch
PSYCHOLOGY (but like, with hands)

aka: 💋😊🤝🔪 +
[💊❄️+🍆+🍑]=✨🤤✨

✨ narcissistic supply:
this desperate slut?—
doesn’t even want your man,
she wants to win the game
and be able to say “he wanted me more.”
you’re not a fucking person to her.
you’re a mirror
she wants to fucking break.

✨ relational aggression in a crop top
that looks…awkward:
(and yes, their outfits always look “off”)
these dumb bitches
don’t confront you.
they try to supersede you.
slowly.
silently.
like mold behind drywall.

🧟‍♀️👹👵

✨shame-avoidant little cowards:
she won’t say shit.
not because she’s innocent…
nah—
because if she opens her mouth,
you’ll end her life with fucking facts.

🐷🐷🐷

✨triangulation addiction:
the kink isn’t the dick.
it’s the drama.
she doesn’t want love—
she wants to feel superior
in the triangle she
built out of your fucking pain.

💋 thanks whore.

…

✨☠️ WHY IT HITS HARDER
THAN THE DUMB-ASS MAN✨

your man betrayed you?
yeah.
shit is obvious.

💊❄️+🍆+🍑=✨🤤✨

foreseeable bullshit.

but THESE dumb bitches?
[hi sluts👋]
these cunts brought
fucking snacks to the funeral
and acted like they were grieving
when really??—
these stupid-ass-hoes
helped fucking bury you.

you lose the man
and the pyschotic friend.
and everybody’s too busy
calling her a “free fucking spirit”
to clock the fact
that she’s a fucking emotional predator
with instagram stories
no one fucking watches—
and a coke plug.

🐺🐑🐑🐑

—

listen,
you weren’t scared.
you were just cornered.
and instead of owning it like a grown woman,
you picked the shitty-ass coward’s route—
run and hide,
stalk me,
wait for the fucking storm to pass.

but surprise, bitch.
i am the storm.

🙏🪦 (good luck)

…

🧠 let’s be real about why you did it

✦ because you wanted to be picked.
✦ because you needed to feel better than me.
✦ because you don’t know how to exist outside of someone else’s shadow.
✦ because you got off on the power trip of knowing shit behind my back.
✦ because watching me suffer made you feel superior.

😊🔪✨

baby,
admit that shit.

🫂❄️🐍

you weren’t messy.
you were fucking methodical.

and when shit hit the fan,
you weren’t the victim.
you were the fucking stalker.
you just didn’t think
i’d survive long enough to tell the fucking story.

💥you fucking dumbass—
you didn’t just enable him.

🗣️ you assisted him. ☠️

🗣️ you helped an addict
🗣️ cheat on a pregnant woman /
🗣️ a woman raising his fucking newborn—
🗣️ you aided him
🗣️ lie,
🗣️ sneak,
🗣️ hide fucking money from his wife and child,
🗣️ fucking relapse, 💊
🗣️ become fucking violent—
🗣️ manipulate,
🗣️ spiral.

baby,
you helped cover it,
minimize it,
laugh at it,
fucking enjoy it.

😨

you made me look crazy
while you were quietly holding the fucking lighter.

and i’m supposed to call that—
“complicated”?
nah.
it’s fucking evil.

🖕 closure?
bitch, i don’t need it.

this is a fucking execution.

you don’t get to pop in
with your soft voice and “queen” emojis
after you emotionally gutted another woman
and pretended
it wasn’t your fucking fault.

✨🥺👉👈✨

i don’t want your fake regret.
i don’t want your bullshit tears.
i definitely don’t want your
fake ass “feminist intellectualism”—
nah babe—
i want you to live with the fucking truth:

🥶 you chose to betray me.
🥶 you chose to side with chaos and violence.
🥶 you chose your ego over my life.
🥶 you chose to endanger me and my child.

girlie,
you’re a
fucking backstabbing whore.
✨(that keeps getting—
progressively less attractive)✨
and sweetie,
you have such tiny ass balls,
you couldn’t even say that shit
to my fucking face.

🐺🥸🐑

and now?
bitch, you don’t get
a single fucking inch of protection
from the fallout
you helped fucking create.

honey,
i’m coming for you.

🚨 that’s a fucking promise. 🚨

because you??
you’re not a victim.
you’re not misunderstood.
you’re a fucking pathetic
saboteur with shitty lashes,
worse hair,
and fake fucking allyship.

and also??
your outfits fucking suck.

they look as desperate as you really are... 🙂

—

and this time??
honey,
you don’t get to stay anonymous.

i’m done being polite.
i’m done sparing individuals
who never gave a fuck about sparing me.
your silence was not grace.
it was fucking strategy.

🐑🐑🐑🐺🐑

but shit,
i talk.
and i don’t shut the fuck up.

and everyone’s already asking…

✨🧂✨

🤡⚖️ we filed that shit anyway

(inspired by true events... and perjury??) 💫

aka: a guided tour of exactly who signed what lie, and why i’m starting to think law school might just be improv for sociopaths

🧘🏼‍♀️🪨✨

let’s
fucking
✨go.✨

[🤔]

✦ exhibit one: northwestern mutual defense team

🧑🏻‍💼 the corporate team

filed: “bro, she was never even the policy owner.”
aka: who the fuck even is this bitch???

also them:
emailed me on
feb 9, 2024
to say

“congrats girl! you just signed as policyowner :)”

👉👈😏

✨ fucking bonus?
there is zero signed transfer of ownership
from me to anyone.
they just sort of…
hoped i wouldn’t fucking notice???
is contract law a vibe now?
are pleadings moon-powered?
do we cite mercury retrograde in a footnote?

✨💖

me,
legally dead inside:
🗣️ babe.
i know i didn’t go to
milwaukee law school for fucking liars,
but did y’all
just tell the judge
i never owned the thing
you thanked me for fucking owning?
or am i confused
on how “signing a fucking contract” works?
like is it
✨ vibes ✨
now?
do we file pleadings
based on fucking astrology?

😬🧨
follow-up question:
do you genuinely not know what email is
or are you
just trying to
straight gaslight a
restraining-order-protected mother
on fucking missing food stamps
into forgetting
what “policyowner” means?

girl, what?

be honest.

✦ exhibit two: the advisor crew
(goblin’s dream team + my girl “i didn’t see shit” esquire.)

👩🏻‍💼 the “we don’t know about instagram” gang

bro, they filed:
“we have no knowledge of any off-channel communications.”

what i literally sent them:
🤫 screenshots of their rep still stalking me on IG
🤫 after she had access to my medical and financial data
and my fucking family.
🤫 and then told them the whole fucking account vanished
🤫 after i sent a litigation hold
🤫 with instructions
🤫 in writing
🤫 with fucking screenshots.

✨ …twice.✨

okie doke.
so,
this is lawyering?

fucking cool.

me, on 20 minutes of sleep,
rereading fucking Rule 37(e):
like, wait.
so y’all got
a fucking federal trigger…
and said,
“huh??
we never heard of instagram.
what’s a fucking dm?”

yo,
🗣️...🗣️ the fuck???
like this was a goddamn amish law firm?

nah. i don’t think so.

😶...

but,
remind me again:
is it normal
in this profession
to act like the internet
doesn’t fucking exist?
when you use it
for your
entire fucking trade??✨
emails?✨
e-filings?✨
babe,
you’re in my
fucking story views, too.✨
…or are y’all
just straight trippin
when your agent
deletes the fucking evidence?

and shit was…
clearly off-channel. 💫

asking for… sanctions.

✨👑✨

but hey,
wtf do i know???
maybe y’all don’t
have fucking eyeballs??
you know,
just seeing
shapes and shit,
random-ass flickers of light.
bro, seems more fucking plausible.

or,
maybe this
is just how they run
this fucking shitshow.

🤨...

✦ exhibit three: corporate ganggang

aka: does this shit—
even exist??
(nah)

👨🏻‍💻 cc’ed: internal legal,
troy the official email forwarder,
the invisible fucking ghosts
of milwaukee

these absolute heroes filed:
“we deny knowledge of her dv disclosures.”
bro—
word?
but, also them:
forwarded my june 22 dv packet—
which included:
🔥 the restraining order
🔥 photo of the ER visit
🔥 fraudgirl 2.0 aka “the rep” calling me “hostile” for describing my fucking abuse
🔥 documented shit clearly indicating
one of your other goblin-ass reps
is watching my stories post-removal.
🔥 explicit instructions to forward this to legal
🔥 and fucking preserve

but nah.

nope.
idk what rules even are,
why does…
legal education exist?
bro,
the codes of ethics?
but just…
fuck it?

🤔⚠️

me, clutching
the fucking flag of basic morals:
yo,
is this a fucking bit?
like some corporate
shitty-ass improv night?

so they be like,
we “deny knowledge”
but bro,
you’re sitting on a
digital fucking dv folder labeled
“FRAUD IF IGNORED”?

🤔🕵️

…what???

be so fucking serious.

also:
who does read
the emails over there?
because if troy’s forwarding them,
and y’all are filing like
you never fucking saw ‘em,
i’m just wondering
if the job is to lie
or to pretend no one has a fucking inbox.
like—
do you have a policy on that?
or just
shooting some shit???

🤔⚖️

✦ exhibit four: homicidal hubby’s legal team
(the “we can’t confirm who’s paying us” clowns)

🧑🏼‍💼 spenc, big c, silent chick, sponsored by ghost money and a felony fucking bond

filed:
”shit, this bitch was about to drop this clown from the formal complaint”

aka: didn’t you fucking default???

nah,
nahhhh—
2 months to
come up with the
”idk shit” defense.

fucking brilliant.

also filed:
💥 …nothing about him
💥 fucking violating
💥 the restraining order
💥 nothing about him
💥 skipping child support for a year
💥 nothing about
💥 who bankrolled
💥 a whole-ass fucking law firm
💥 while he’s couch-hopping
in a fucking basement in texas.

me,
blinking fucking slowly at Rule 1.8(f):
so…you’re telling me
the broke man
with a felony strangulation
of a pregnant chick case
who’s been
financially missing since 2024
is just raw-dogging legal fees
out of thin fucking air?
and no one’s concerned?
no one’s disclosing…
shit?

seems reasonable. 💫

so.

this is the job???

🔥🤯

and…
you sure y’all are lawyers?
or
did you mistake
legal representation
for a fucking
public relations exercise
sponsored by goddamn
lies and delusions?

word.

🧠💫💭

because
if my toddler
forged these fucking pleadings
in goddamn crayon,
they’d be
more fucking accurate.

✦ exhibit five: the policy lapse fucking gaslight olympics

📬 corporate gang, meet litigation fantasy

filed:
“her policy lapsed on [insert make-believe nonsensical date]”

—also sent to my home:
🤡 6/10/25: “pay by 7/8 to keep this policy from ending!”
🤡 3/25/25: bill on his policy with “payer: samantha lowe” printed across the top
🤡 months after they say it was “gone.”

i mean,
shit…
let’s just all—
fuck around and find out???

cool,
whatever.

🥀

me, now losing grip on linear fucking time:
[🤔]
so is it alive or dead?
am i alive?
is this real???
do you want my money…
or not?
or is this some
weird phantom insurance scam
where you kill the policy
and then haunt me for money?
on a comission pipeline??

because
if that’s the model?
damn girl,
slay. ✊🏻🥺
…but maybe
[✍🏻]
don’t lie
to the fucking judge
about it
while i still have
the fucking record.

🫨

✦ exhibit six: the vibe check of fucking clown-town professionalism

👩🏽‍⚖️ “we acted in good faith and professionally”

bro??

filed:
a masterclass in generic, blank denials. 🤙

ignored:
⚠️ everything
⚠️ dv evidence
⚠️ financial transfers
⚠️ deletion notices
⚠️ preservation requests
⚠️ billing contradictions
⚠️ basic fucking humanity

me, staring into the goddamn abyss
what part of
any of this is fucking
professional?
y’all read a dv victim’s disclosures
deleted her comms
called her tone hostile
and then??
pretended she was
a fucking stranger in your filings.

i’ve seen teenagers on finsta
behave with more
goddamn accountability.

🧠💫

closing
or some shit—

hi your honor :)
just a quick q
before we proceed:

⚖️✨🧑‍⚖️

are these lawyers... lying? 📢
like, just factually, is the job… lying?
because i feel like
i’m the only one
who brought documents
to a fucking document fight
and everyone else
brought some shitty-ass
selective fucking amnesia
and an outdated
MS Word.

💀

and if that’s
what law is now,
cool,
no problem,
just let me know
so i can start
making shit up,
too.

😏🤺

'cause yo,
apparently
all you need to practice
is a fucking laptop,
a goddamn nerve,
and the unshakable belief
that no one’s
gonna check the fucking archives.

🔥🤯

🪦 rip to the truth
but i’m different

(or: a memorial for every fact they buried on purpose.)

for the
e-filed lies.
signed denials.
redacted reality.
but baby
i showed up
pissed the fuck off
to the funeral
in a baddie black dress
and a fucking toddler.

💫

let’s light a fucking candle 🕯️
for every email they “never saw,”
every screenshot they “can’t confirm,”

and that’s fine.
bury that shit.

i dig shit up
for fucking frivolity.

🕊

petty, highly disrespectful, conspiracy girl vibes 🧘‍♀️🪨✨🐀✨

✨…🔮...✨

yeah nah fuck the poetic shit.
let’s call it what it is.

🗝✨🐀✨

bro.

half these
dumb
bitches
knew.

🧘‍♀️🪨✨🤫

they knew my husband
was out here snorting
half the fucking zip code
and raw-dogging
anything
with self-esteem issues and a fucking pulse.
and they fucking loved it.
because watching me
get dragged through hell
made them feel
a little prettier,
more relevant for once
in their fucking lives???

👉🏻🧠👈🏻

yooooo—
wait
what the fuck????
'cause once the shock wears off
and the shame stops
fucking glitching
your nervous system,
you start motherfucking
connecting the goddamn dots
so fast it’s like—

🤫😶‍🌫😈

“wait. hold the fuck on.
how many people KNEW my husband
was a coked-out, cheating, broke-ass loser
and just.
said.
nothing??”

✨🧘✨

…NOTHING?

☁️😶✨💡

shit.

based on the records—

this wasn’t a secret.
it was community fucking theater.
everyone had a goddamn role—
the coke fairy,
the “just friends” coworkers,
the fake-woke girlboss party girl?!?!
screaming self-care
while sneaking his number
to connect the next fucking bump????

noooooo.
bro.

🗣️ this shit
🗣️...🗣️ ain’t for the weak.
this shit is psychotic.✨

babe,
he wasn’t hiding it.
he was a sloppy,
jaw-grinding fucking mess
with powder on his nose
and a story that changed
every five fucking minutes.
and these clowns
were like “omg he’s so tortured”
bitch
he is not tortured,
he’s
fucking
tweaked.

🕯️🤍✨

they all wanted to see
the bad bitch wife crack.
wanted to watch
me get absolutely fucked—
because shit,
sorry i’m the one who
actually had
fucking goals, savings, teeth.
BESIDES FUCKING PARTYING
STD TESTS
AND GODDAMN DRUGS.
so
they giggled and whispered
and helped him spiral??
like it was some
fucking charity project
for insecure whores?????

🤡🎭💭

and me?
bitch,
paying bills,
thinking i was saving a man.
nah.
i was sponsoring a cokehead circus.
funding their weekend content.

😶...

then the
crash came—
trailer park,
burner phone,
full mugshot energy—
and suddenly nobody
“knew anything.”
yeah fucking right.
every
single
one
of
you
saw it
and did fucking nothing
because you liked the fucking view.

🌙🤫...

shit,
you might have even
hooked up too,
sent some shitty texts,
because listen,
i see it all now.
i’ve ran the dates
over
and over
and it sucks
to realize
you married a fucking
addict
and everyone
took a fucking piss on you
while he lit you the fuck on fire.

like a—
straight fuck you bitch,
stop being
so fucking real
and fucking authentic.
we fucking hate it.

…i got it.

🧠💭👤✨

i ain’t even
mad anymore,
i’m fucking impressed.
that much
group delusion
should qualify
for a fucking tax break.

and what’s better
than a front row seat
to watch
the quirky,
cool,
remarkably-fucking-driven
ethically sound girl,
who naturally gets attention,
for not being a piece of shit,
fucking get gutted
by the crackhead
she married?

bet.
fucking love that shit.

⚙️💭 because here’s the math

…

🧠 textbook “my bestie most def fucked my husband on a coke bender” checklist:

✔️ they had “one night” with vibes + (me?!) and flirtation
✔️ he got her number at the exact moment of relapse
✔️ he stimulant spiraled fucking hard right after
✔️ she ghosted you like you cheated on her
✔️ he stopped sleeping and started fucking scheming
✔️ she went mute during your relocation spiral
✔️ not a single “u ok?” as you literally raised his child alone
✔️ you kept wondering why her absence felt so fucking guilty

omg.
girl.
'cause it was.

🥀

it didn’t come
with a confession.

it came with—
coke lock-jaw,
burner phones,
and your husband hiding in a fucking trailer
while your “homies”
posed fucking innocence
with their goddamn
notifications turned off
and phone face down.

(shit)

and now—
they’re goddamn mute?

lol.

nah.

feels like…guilty.

yo,
i remember who
vanished
when it fucking mattered.

so here’s
the fucking closure,
straight from my fucking chest:
you all played yourselves.
you backed the loser.
you bet
against the bitch
who doesn’t lie, cheat—
or fucking steal,
(never had to) and shit—
who keeps the goddamn lights on.

let me just say,
i know what happened.
i know who sucked,
snorted,
and covered it the fuck up.
and i’m still here—
alive,
louder,
funnier,
un-fucking-bothered—
while every one of you’s stuck
replaying the same crusty night
you thought made you special.

but now makes you
feel like a fucking loser.

rot in the group chat.

breach, babe: proximate cause edition

nm’s lack of supervision + goblin = the chain that wrecked my life (during his employment, explicitly).

y’all this is like…totally all your fault.

✨🐍

thesis:

they didn’t just “fail to supervise.”
they set the risk in motion and kept it running:
assigning a conflicted rep (goblin),
tolerating off-channel contact and $$$ flows, exploiting me
as payor/underwriter, and maintaining proximity to an
impaired zero-production trainee because optics > duty.
everything that followed—assaults, a totaled car, drained accounts—
wasn’t a random storm; it was the foreseeable fallout of their pipeline.

who owed what (duty, not vibes) 🤡🍿💍🐍✨

✳ nm (firm + managers): hire/supervise with reasonable care;
block conflicts; stop off-channel; protect client data;
escalate red flags;
don’t use a spouse-payor as the financial backstop
while routing control to the unstable employee.

✳ goblin (assigned/acting rep): no conflicted dual roles;
no personal $$ entanglement with the trainee;
no off-channel onboarding;
no exploitation of my payor status while hiding material facts.

✳ to me (the spouse-payor + onboarding client): keep
communications professional, on-channel, and non-predatory;
disclose conflicts; don’t siphon access/control through an impaired insider.

breach (receipts i actually have) ✨🐀✨

✳ off-channel: instagram dms about onboarding/IRA/coverage
while she had my file.

✳ $$ entanglement: payments of large amounts between
goblin and him while she’s in my pipeline.

✳ reassignment optics: “goblin assigned to sam”
while she’s also in his personal orbit.
(and hosting him in her apartment)

✳ zero-production but full-presence: he’s in-office
despite no sales/licensing; supervision still mandates proximity
(late 2023) knowing he’s spiraling.

✳ billing vs. truth: i’m billed/solicited as payor while
ownership/beneficiary control is routed away from me.

✳ spoliation-adjacent: key off-channel comms vanish
post-hold. pattern screams concealment, not compliance.

the causation ribbon (how they set it in motion) 🤡💥👀👤

(proximate cause ≠ only cause; it’s the direct, foreseeable chain they created.)

1. they place him inside a conflicted triangle
   senior proximity + goblin’s access + my wallet.
   the risk set: impaired employee + personal-financial
   entanglement + off-channel control of a spouse-payor.

2. they keep him there (late 2023 → early 2024)
   zero production, still “in the office,” still near goblin,
   still burning cash i’m fronting.
   foreseeable pressure + escalation at home.

3. they route decisions through the conflict
   goblin has my files & access while $$ flows to him,
   and i’m induced to fund “coverage” during a DV spiral.
   foreseeable result: financial depletion.

4. they normalize the spiral
   red flags (drug-adjacent behavior, volatility, off-channel)
   are not deterrents; they’re conditions of retention.
   foreseeable result: violence + crisis events
   (including the car totaled window) as the home front collapses
   under the same stress they stoked.

5. they keep billing me while control drifts
   my payments continue, ownership/control migrate,
   and i’m stranded with bills + no benefit. foreseeable result:
   debt, missed payments, academic/work disruption.

translation: nm + goblin didn’t just fail to prevent harm;
they created the field of play where harm was
the ordinary outcome: an impaired insider with private access
to the payor-spouse and a conflicted rep
managing the file off the books.

why this is proximate cause (not just “sad story”)

✳ sufficiently direct: their decisions put us in the intersection—
personal $$ flows + off-channel control + office proximity—
so the collision (dv escalation, car wreck, money drain)
was the predictable crash, not a cosmic accident.

✳ foreseeable reactions: when you (a) keep an impaired,
non-producing recruit “in house,” (b) let a conflicted rep handle
his spouse’s finances off-channel, and (c) make the spouse payor
while stripping control, the ordinary human reaction is escalation:
fights, financial strain, dangerous driving, and acute safety risk.

✳ no superseding break: his bad acts are the very risks
their breaches created. you don’t get to light the fuse
and call the explosion “independent.”

damages (the ledger this chain produced) ❄️💊🤡✨

• economic

  • premiums/fees i paid while control/benefit drifted.

  • medical/therapy costs tied to assaults.

  • car replacement/repair, towing, lost work time.

  • emergency childcare, travel, and court costs.

  • exam/education disruptions → lost opportunities.

• non-economic

  • fear, sleep loss, PTSD spikes, reputational fallout.

• consequential

  • time diverted to evidence preservation/litigation.

  • credit hits from the drain + chaos window.

• punitive hook

  • off-channel + spoliation + conflict concealment =
    conscience-shocking enough to justify punitive interest.

y’all—smells like a rat ✨🐀✨

🚩 holy shit: a fucking case study in covert girlpower® sabotage 🚩

fuck it.

since it’s a…
burn book
+
i’m in the goddamn
trenches of the fucking $30 an hour
childcare reliability + sunk cost desert—

here it is…the
🚩 holy shit: a fucking case study in covert girlpower® sabotage 🚩

the girlpower® exchange setup:

✱ accepted a paid role plus a 500-hr ytt trade.
✱ took a two-week break mid-semester. (fine, conveyed in advance)
✱ then canceled the third week: morning-of class during midterms.
✱ essentially—missed a (roughly $750 per pop) crim law class
~due to lack of last-minute sitter.
✱ tried to pop back in next day; like it was a vibe—
but had literally just claimed she was
“too sick, day prior.”

bro,
and i already scrambled to find back up…again?

…

(girl, what?????)

...but…
i’m also…
paying you???
and trading hours??
while i can’t even do homework??
+ your hours keep
getting smaller??

okie dokie, queen. 👑

but,
nah babe.
the only thing contagious
is your intentional inconsistency.

she knew—
sunday was a dv-related gun range cert.
she was told:
show up by 7:30.
(didn’t arrive on time)
because i gotta leave by 8.
talked to me while i panic
to getting ready in ~10 minutes.
range? over a fucking hour away.
she mentions casually as
i’m walking out the door,
fucking late
—can you be back “early afternoon?”
yo, what????
i mean i’ll try??? and i did.
stakes? legal. safety. survivor. court-recognized.

baby girl—
this wasn’t just “babysitting.”
this was don’t fuck this up level crucial.

but guess what?
she claimed—
she thought i would “be back by noon”
meaning ~2 hours at the range
+ 2 hours of driving,
lmfao.

despite:
✨ never being told that
✨ having seen firsthand how long a range day is
✨ being fully briefed on the course, the dv context, the court case, all of it

then
texted repeatedly
knowing it was mid-
qualifying fucking round.
final hour.
the actual make-or-break part of the day.
and if i had seen those texts?
yo,
i might’ve failed.
i definitely would have left;
after two days—
15 hours of this course down
in one weekend—
35 fucking minutes early.
an hour away.

so…
you accepted a paid role during midterms
🚩 canceled on the actual day of the class; so i couldn’t secure backup
🚩 then when she finally showed up,
🚩 she showed up ~15 minutes late so i was therefore…late to class.
which…made everyone in class wait, for me…
including a disabled student who attended with a driver.
🚩 so i offered student a ride back.
🚩 but, paid babysitter then rushed me
—over an arbitrary “i have to be back at 2 not 3”
🚩 that 35 minutes of pressure forced me to:

✱ keep the guy with you longer
✱ bring him closer to your home
✱ bypass your own already raised internal alarms
✱ and now you’re dealing with a situation you never wanted

and what was the actual reason?
fucking baking.

yo.
that’s not caregiving.
that’s fucking chaos posing as community.

babe.

i said i’d try to be back by 2ish.
at your last minute request—
updated via text multiple times,
explaining i was in
the fucking qualifying round—
and couldn’t leave early.
got back at 2:34pm.
and…
you’re getting paid?
bro,
are you ok???

the excuse?

“had to get stuff done at the kitchen.”
for her…self-scheduled self-employed gig.
this girl was being paid
for the whole day
and risked the whole plan
over a fucking croissant.

→ net result?
aka the real cost:

girlie nearly tanked
a thousand-dollar cert
a survivor’s legal safety strategy
and made me scramble again
because—
she couldn’t hold it down for 35 extra minutes???

babe,
i made a high-stakes,
high-cost safety investment
in my own survival (the course)
i was forced to reroute that plan
because i could not find child care—
and then,
when i finally secure it,
her plans still took priority over mine.
this isn’t just annoying—
this is how unsafe dynamics get seeded.
not because i’m reckless—
but because someone else’s unreliability
backed me into a fucking corner.

babe,
this wasn’t miscommunication.
this was fucking sabotage.
masked as mindfulness.
wrapped in gluten-free fucking feminism.

girlie liked the look
of helping a domestic violence survivor
until the survivor started…
winning?

ok. nah.

this version of me??

i just…
🧍🏼‍♀️cut. her. off.

because nah,
i don’t owe patience
to people who choose to endanger me
and my fucking child.

crossing state [little white] lines ✈️✨❄️💊👨🏻‍⚖️

nah.

this ain’t some
✨star crossed lovers shit✨—

aka [🎱🔌💍💋]

naaaaaahhhhhhh.
this is some—
✦ crash-out crackhead adjacent,
✦ crime spree assist
✦ substance fueled levels of absolute fuckery.
✦ this ain’t cute.
✦ this definitely ain’t sexy.
✦ this ain’t—
“i’m rooting for y’all.”

✦ this is…

✨🐍💋😈 ”i watched my
full ass legal husband spiral
into a drugged-out felony fugue state
while the bitch helping him do it
was hiding behind a cubicle desk
and a fucking VPN
while cyber-stalking my newborn."

like.

read that again.

because look—

✦ this is not romance.
✦ this is not love.
✦ this is two people
✦ ducking the truth
✦ with fucking apple relay
✦ and a goddamn boarding pass…

so—
✦ 📂 “how many flights you gotta take
before it ain’t a drug-fueled-situationship,
it’s a fucking subpoena?”

✦ aka: this ain’t euphoria, bitch. it’s probable cause.

—

be honest,
i mean—at least as honest as
junkies
+ their plugs
can be…

✨🌃✨

because
✳ i’m the one with the baby.
✳ i’m the one with the mortgage.
✳ i’m the one with the debt
✳ while he goes to school on his uncle sam marital fraud.
✳ i’m the one with the goddamn civil conspiracy binder.

…and these two?

seems like
they’re still playing tag
across state lines
like that won’t show up
in fucking discovery.

—

so…

🗣️🗯️

…

✳ he’s on felony bond.
and you…what?
✳ flew to fucking see him??✨
✳ kept contacting him while actively monitoring me??✨
✳ are on record into september 2025 actively surveilling me mid-litigation?
✳ while you both seem to obsess over my socials??
✳ so…did you fly him out…
🚩🚩🚩

✨mid-extradictable warrant??✨

because??
✳ why did his file get pinged in NYC??✨
right when…
✳ i was raising internal NM conflicts—

and…

✨begging corporate for clarity✨

but babe…

in july??

✳ …right before his mom cancelled
✳ for ✨zero reason✨
✳ her months-long planned visit
—to see her grandchild???

✳ was he with you???

and then…
✳ did you…sponsor a lil defense?
✳ did you…send some more
undisclosed (totally professional)
cash transfers???
lmfao

nah you wouldn’t…
not—
✳ mid-case. 💫
✳ mid-fraud conspiracy? 💫
✳ mid-stalking?? 💫
✳ after all the DMs??
✳ after your account vanished????
✳ after the docs hit your firm’s inbox
✳ …with a litigation hold.

girl.
you are a walking red flag.
you are a walking fucking professional violation.
you were already the reason.
but now?
you’re apparently
the fucking accessory.

🚩

and after that july—
✳ warrant ping??? 🔥🔥
lmfao
noooooope.
✳ that everyone is dodging??
✳ while she lurked me??
✳ and i reported it??????????
✳ put the whole thing on record??
✳ ”forwarded to counsel”???

🔥🔥🔥🔥

uh oh.

that’s what happens
when you’re fucking obsessed,
girlie.

—

so sweetie,
let’s not play dumb.
because we all know—
you knew.
✳ the meds list?
—you saw it.
✳ the paramed file?
—you held it.
✳ the custody?
—you ignored it.
✳ the TRO/FRO?
—you don’t give a single fuck.

✳ the pics of my face fucked?
—girlie, you seemingly loved that shit.

🤫🤝💥

but somehow—
you’re still
seeming to be…
✳ poppin up in his geolocation??
like it’s fucking brunch
and not a goddamn
drug adjacent fucking breach.

💋🔥

—

i had no clue
you were the reason
my husband turned into a fucking stranger.
but the jaw clenching
and the blackout rage
and the fucking gaslighting
and the goddamn unpaid bills
make a lot more sense
now that i know the plug
had professional cover.

—

babe,
your proximity
seemed to— keep him
✨drugged and distracted✨
long enough
for him to fail at life
and almost kill me.

💅✨❄️💊🤡

and now?
you’re still out here
funding shit??
like it’s a love story
and not a court record
waiting to get fucking unsealed??

damn girl…

✨👏🏻👏🏻✨

—

girl.
you weren’t a mistress.
evidently…you were a fucking mule.

—

✈️✨❄️💊👨🏻‍⚖️

congrats.
he never picked you.
he just needed someone
to fly in
with a bag,
some cash,
zero self-esteem,
and keep the fucking secret.

see you in discovery.
bring a charger.
it’s gonna get dark.

💋🩷📓

congratulations. you married a fucking junkie. 🔥🔥🔥

title: congratulations. you married a fucking junkie.
subtitle: not a husband. just a freight train of fucking lies with a dick
and “a person with a compulsive habit or obsessive dependency on…something.”

✨🚩✨

(a totally likely theory)

—

bro.

✨🐀✨

you ever be so
catastrophically trusting
you accidentally bankroll a coke problem
with student loan money
while he “builds his book of business”
out of white lines off mirrors
at some bitch’s fucking apartment?

🚓🚨🏃💨

this is the highest tier
of mediocre-dude audacity
i’ve ever seen on fucking record.

🔥🤬✋✨

like yeah babe
✦ defrauded my credit card,
✦ wreck my car,
✦ take my pregnant ass—
✦ from standing
✦ straight to the fucking floor,
✦ head first into the wood—
while your coworkers laughed—
over
and over
and over—
but god forbid you miss
a goddamn fucking bump.

✨🔥🧂🔥✨

every nice thing
he said
now scans as
fucking fraud with emojis.

🧟‍♂️ “i love you” = i love your banking & routing numbers.
🧟‍♂️ “we’re a team” = hand me the keys to your car and shut up.
🧟‍♂️ “going to the gym” = i’m funding the white-nostril fucking olympics.

🔥🔥🔥

nah.
i didn’t marry a man.
i married a fucking chump✨
full of little bitch-ass excuses
and a jaw that clicked
and a body
in fucking decay.

🔥🔥🔥🥯💫

homie,
got progressively
less hot.
and be serious
i lived through WAY
more shit than you
by the time i was fucking six—
so shut the fuck up.
a true lil wife-punching bitch.

weak.
fucking pathetic. 💫

🤡🍿💍🐍🎈✨

my dude—
would look me dead in the eye,
WHITE SHIT still
on his fuckin nose,
like “babe i’m just tired.”
tired??
you’ve been up
for two full fucking days
sniffing fucking drywall
in some troll’s downtown spot—
who’s got a coke tray,
a fucking iPad,
and a goddamn copy of
'you are a badass' on the nightstand.
holy shit.
shut the fuck up.

👉🤡🔌✨

this man
wasn’t building a career.
he was building a pipeline.
these bitches for sure—
kept it professional,
but babe,
the business
wasn’t fucking insurance policies.

🤯💥😵‍💫🔥

because even
when i tried to
disclose the violence
to another professional
suposidly uninvolved??
yo,
that bitch ALSO
defrauded me
three separate fucking times???
after mocking me for your close personal
relationship to my financial representative??

girl, what????

🙃🐍✨

homie—
🎤 🤡✨ this is not
“a rogue” fucking problem,
it’s a fucking fraternity,
that almost got me killed.
mid-marriage
mid-pregnancy.
post-inducement—
no
fucking
mercy.

because
nah.
this ain’t insurance—
something else was
running back and forth,
and it wasn’t
fucking client cold calls.
LMFAO.

😑🪦

whole time?
i’m sitting at home
with a screwdriver in one hand
and a fuckin bank app in the other
wondering why he’s sending
the last fucking cash in
venmo payments
days before my kid’s birth—
from my fucking bank account
because “he just owed someone money”
after he already bankrupted our ass??
but that someone—?
yep.
lmfao
what a fucking idiot.

🤡💥👀👤

so guess what?
it went up his nose
right before
he bounced my skull off the hardwood
like it owed him fucking cash
for his next 7-Eleven run.

✨🐀✨

nah.
this wasn’t love.
this was a fucking
logistics operation.
and i was the
unpaid cash-register,
the bitch who got
a hundred prescription pills stolen
mid-pregnancy—
while he shows up one fucking place.
who didn’t realize
she married a fraudulent little bitch
with army sob story
and a coke connect
with a goddamn crush.

✨💩✨

yo.

bro was out here
posing like
he had deals to close,
but all he closed
was bathroom doors
and my fucking checking account.

✨🤝✨🤗🔪✨💰

you think he didn’t cheat?
my dude would
bang literally anything
ANYTHING
on blow.
based on the fucking record.
and every
fucking relationship
he ever fucking had.
so, real question?
how fucking many??
on that much yayo???
personality-changing-amounts
of fucking yay??????
but idk man—
he was BUSY
crawling through every
fucking lie he ever told me
like a raccoon in a trash can
high out his fuckin mind.

✨💀🔥✨

i’d be googling
“how to help your partner with executive dysfunction”
while he was googling
“does coke go bad in a hydro flask.”

✨🤩❄️💊🤡

and don’t
get me started on the “career”.
that shit wasn’t a job.
that was a fuckboy habitat.
i got sponsored
into signing legal docs
with a fucking brain bruise
while my “rep” was sending him CASH
for reasons that are now
clearly LIES— ✨🐀✨
and texting him how cute my baby was???
wild.

fucking barf.
absolutely psychotic
professional behavior.

✨💩🤥🤢🗑️✨

and y’all got the fuckin nerve
to call this “on-channel”?

yeah,
my marriage was fucking hijacked.
by widespread fraud
and an apparent yayo pipeline—
while you took my financials
and then claimed

“who the fuck are you”

✨🤥💊❄️😦

L
O
L

🔥

no.
this was felony-adjacent
financial drain with stimulant side quests.
miss me with the bullshit cute buzzwords.

so here’s the part
for all you background bitches
who “partied” with him
while i was home
folding fucking baby onesies
and filing restraining orders:

🔥 you’re not hot.
🔥 you’re not chill.
🔥 you’re just fucking trash.

🤮🚽

permanently.
and with fuckin prejudice.

🕯️🖕🏻

the only good thing that came out of all that straight evil shit 👶🏼👱🏼‍♀️🐕💖✨

single motherhood, sponsored by vengeance and zero fucking sleep
subtitle: she calls me mommy and she cleans when i clean bro i’m literally gonna cry

—

🍼👑

it’s insane
how much shit i lived through
just to get handed
the coolest fucking tiny human on the planet
in a diaper
with a sippy cup
and the audacity of a born fucking icon.

💌🧚‍♀️💗🌨🥡🍥✨

like
i think about the wreckage
the actual fucking wreckage—
the credit fraud,
the fucking blackouts,
the dude doing office roleplay
while building a cocaine altar
in someone else’s apartment—
and i’d still do it again
if it meant i’d get her.

🫧🕊️🩵🪞✨

not because it was okay.
it wasn’t.
it was fucking violent.
intentional.
goddamn disgusting.
and so many people
didn’t give a single fuck
that i was getting my head bashed in real time.
pregnant.
absolutely alone.
lovebombed.
discarded.
funding the collapse
from my own fucking bank account.

but somehow
out of that
came this tiny perfect girl
who stomps around in her
tiny-ass pink cowgirl boots
talking shit into a play phone
with a mop in one hand
and a baby doll on her hip
like she pays the fucking bills.

✨🦄🩷

every morning
she jumps on my head.
every night she curls into me
me. the baby. and sammi the dog.
like we’re her whole goddamn world.
because we are.

🫶🏻🥹❤️‍🩹

i didn’t just survive.
i leveled the fuck up.
into mother.
into legend.
into the type of baddie who literally
birthed her own best friend.

👶🏼👱🏼‍♀️✨

and she?
is fucking unhinged.
in the best possible way.

she’s funny.
she’s mean.
she’s genius-level dramatic.
loves blocks.
loves books.
huge fan of race cars,
fucking goddamn obsessed with sammi dog,
cleaning products, (aka water)
and unsolicited FaceTime calls.

💫👶🏼🐕💖

like bro,
this girl cleans when i clean.
not fake help.
real-ass cleaning.
paper towels, rags, mini-mop,
i shit you not—
like she’s the foreman
of our little single-mom construction site.
she works union.

and somehow, with no lessons,
she knew how to love her baby dolls.
she feeds them,
bro,
puts them to bed,
probably better
than her own fucking dad
could manage on his best day.

💥

and don’t get it contorted:
i tried.
i really fucking tried
to like that man.
to help him.
to support him.
i gave him every tool
to be a fucking father
and a man
and a human being
and instead
he chose—
violence, drugs, and employment scams.

🕊️✨

but
even with all of that,
i can tell my daughter
with no shame,
with no spin,
that i did everything to build something good.
i tried to make him better
and he chose worse.

💥

and now?
he’s out there losing hair
and i’m out here building a family
with a toddler, a dog, and…
hopefully—
a degree in progress.

just me,
my little cleaning boss
with six teeth,
a plastic vacuum,
and a soul made of fucking fire.

✨

we don’t need a happy ending.
we are one.
spite-powered,
caffeine-fueled,
and extremely well mopped.

✳ tiny baddie girl club ✳

👶🏼👱🏼‍♀️🐕💖✨

😈❄️🚪 “just stopping by to see the baby”

(or: why are you at my door during a crash + comedown?)

✨

let’s walk it back.
i just had a fucking baby.
i’m fresh-cut from surgery,
bleeding,
barely standing.
he just totaled my car
and is “stuck,”
twitchy,
broke as fuck,
and absolutely not employed.
and then—ding dong bitch.
the office goblin & co.
pops up at my house
like it’s a fucking christening.

✨😈❄️🚪

“i just wanted to see the newborn 🥺”

oh yeah?
where’s the wipes, bitch?

no gift.
no food.

✨❄️…

this bitch is
“just checking in”???
bro—

just her,
sitting there,
all awkward
while my life is in flames
and he’s out here using my gas to go AWOL???

ok.
right.
with what plan, exactly?
flowers? 😈
a casserole? 😈
a client service checklist? 😈
nah—she ain’t got shit. 😈

…or was it…
a care package with a key-shaped surprise?

✨❄️

…

babe.
🚫 this is a blow free zone. 🚫🔑

but…
still?

you’re at my door
post-wreck,
post-vanish,
post-a ~grand+ of moving unexplained money????
post-five-a.m. errands??
post-your constant proximity to the fucking crash out???
that smell like cocaine and lying—
and now,
that you officially said,
you don’t fucking know me like that,
in god damn court
i’m supposed to believe

this is a…baby visit?

girl, you
didn’t bring diapers.
you brought
creepy-ass proximity.
…and proximity…
is how fucking pipelines work.

because…
here’s what else was happening:

✱ he’s “retained” but never there. 🚫
✱ my accounts are over-drafted; his calendar is empty. 🚫
✱ he’s jaw-clenched and disappears for 90 minutes to “grab something,” 🚫
✱ comes back with nothing but vibes. 🚫
✱ your name’s on the paperwork, on my medical intake, and somehow also on my fucking couch— 🚫

…right when the crash dust settles??

…when he’s stranded…without a vehicle…to disappear in???

✨DAMN GLAD I GOT A fucking PHOTO.✨

so yeah,
i stood there,
stitches tight,
fucking baby in my arms,

and thought:
✨why the fuck are you at my home✨
during a car-crash + comedown window,
asking dumbass questions
through that
fake fucking ass smile??

and i really thought,
like nah—
she can’t be
straight fucking evil.
she wouldn’t be doing—
straight illegal shit??? ✨
signing on to my shit??? ✨
nah.
no fucking way.
that would be fucking crazy.

…too stupid.

so i gave you a chance.
trusted you.

but now????

let me be straight up with you—
are you here to

“meet the baby,”

or

to make sure
the fucking delivery
got where the fuck it needed to go?

💊🔑✨❄️🧟‍♂️

uh…oh…

🗣️ did you come into my home—
🗣️ to run a fucking drop???

🗣️ straight up hand-delivered
🗣️ to my goddamn tweaking-ass husband?

lmfao
no.

✨❄️

let me find that out.

✨❄️

you’re
not
this
fucking
dumb.

✨❄️

because seriously,
prior to that?
he can’t seem…
to stay the fuck
out of “your orbit”
for five fucking seconds,
without…

✨VIOLENTLY CRASHING THE FUCK OUT.❄️

⚠️ across multiple records and jurisdictions ⚠️

and shit,
because the math is ugly:

✱ access + timing + secrecy = not a coincidence.

and if you
weren’t running it?
(lol shut up)
you were
the goddamn cover
for the fuck whoever was.

either way,
bitch, that wasn’t
“aww, newborn!”

nah.
no way.
babe,
you’re not human like that.
you’re a fucking bridge troll.

💊🧟‍♂️

and …🩸let me find out🩸
what the fuck
that visit really was.

🎤🔥 relapse season 2.0: bestie with the baggie? 👤✨😵🥴🤤

🎤🔥 relapse season 2.0

bestie with the baggie? 👥

(dead-inside. glassy stare.
smells like gas station jerky
and fucking court dates)

✨😵🥴🤤✨

…

fast forward a few months—
he’s got no friends.
none.
he’s barely working.
not helping.
just again…
doing some
three-ass-hour long walmart runs
and coming home
with nothing
but jaw tension and swamp ass.

✨🤤

❄️💊🤡✨

i start doing the math.
who’s the plug? 👥
who’s still texting this dude
who’s he on the record calling????
while i’m
losing thirty pounds
to the fucking anxiety and bills?

✨meanwhile✨
the girl who used to
straight up flirt
with all my boyfriends—ever
in front of me
magically reappears.
after a month.
weird vibes.
dry texts.
just enough
to keep her name…
clear??
then poof—he’s gone.
no goodbye.
just up and ghosts to texas.

🥶🦃

and her?
same move. 👤
acted chill,
out of fucking nowhere,
went ✨ MIA ✨
then
after we bounce???
one text—
when we’re
going into a fucking shelter??
✨then nothing.✨
not a word???
childhood best friend????
nothing happened?
but…
full-ass silence.

✨🤡👤✨

i floated her bills.
kept her kid fed—
let her act like
forever as
✨the pretty one✨
✨the cool one✨
✨the popular one✨
✨the smart one✨
because girl—
i didn’t give a shit
about winning.
against my own fucking friends.

✨💩✨

but babe??
she used that shit
the first chance she got
to crawl up
the actual ass of the guy
who fucking punched me.

so…

🎣 if she hooked him up with a plug?

fine.
if she let him crash,
do blow,
and play sad until it…

🍯 turned sexual?

even fucking better.

✨🤩❄️💊🤡

but be real.
that’s not a power fucking move.
that’s not some sexy betrayal.
that’s bottom-ass-feeding
…on drugs.

🙃

but shit,
you didn’t seduce anyone.
you picked at my trash
like a raccoon in a walmart lot.

✨💊🧟‍♂️😦

you don’t go
that fucking quiet
unless the story you’re hiding
makes you want to throw up too.

so…
she knew. 👤
he knew. 👤
they both knew. 🤩🤩
and, shit—
i knew. 🙃

✨💀✨

but now?
i just don’t fucking care. 🫶

i honestly never did.

lol.

babe 🙃
she was
always
that
desperate
for any dude
that might
pick up the fucking check.

you were just the most pathetic. 🙃

🤙✨🤤

so congrats.

you didn’t get
the man i loved.
you got the man
i fucking survived.
right before the cops showed up
and i changed the fucking locks
with a baby,
a dog—
and a goddamn trauma file
thick enough to bench fucking press.

🖕✨🤤
🖕✨🤤
🖕✨🤤
🖕✨🤤
🖕✨🤤

and yeah—
he still tried to come back.
they always fucking do.

especially when the coke runs out.

🥴✨🤤

✨💭 karaoke, cocaine & other fatherless behavior ❄️💊👵🏻 🏍️💨🚬🤡🧟‍♂️

aka💀 🚬 —
the biker blow chronicles: family edition 👵🏻 🏍️💨

—

💭✨

rock bottom wasn’t
fucking metaphorical.

nah—❄️

(✨🤤👵🏻 🏍️💨🚬💀🤘)

so…

get ready for…

✨highly embarrassing full-grown-ass-man behavior.✨

—

it was my uncle’s birthday party.✨
he’s half in the bag,
sad-singing about his dead wife,
and i’m standing there
—newborn, fucking exhausted—
and what’s my
“husband” doing?

✨🤤

🧟‍♂️ demon plotting where to score blow 🧟‍♂️

babe!
i’m watching my man
drool over a
67-year-old woman
with a box dye ponytail
and a voice
like she eats fucking menthols
for breakfast.

—yo. 🛑🚦😄✨❄️🚶‍♂️💨

bro
he’s fully clothed, sober(ish), and upright—
salivating
over a senior citizen biker-scene plug 👵🏻
with straight nicotine fingers
and a hard candy voice
because she
might’ve had a fucking baggie.

🖤

yo.
she used to
hang out with my aunt.
for real,
we love our white trash roots,
but this was
white trash Cirque du Soleil.

💀🎸⚡️👵🏻🚬

he was
LOCKED the fuck IN.
eyes glossy.
posture submissive.
trying to finesse an invite
to stay with his lil elderly girlfriends
like he was auditioning for
an old lady with
off-brand uggs and a voice like a lit cigarette.

i am not exaggerating.
that sentence happened in real life.

❄️🙃✨

this man—
who was
across the country,
hanging on by a goddamn pill—
who had no “real job”,
borrowed car,
no plug,
no fucking shame—

👋🗑️✨

and this is who he made eyes at.
with his whole chest.
this was not passive interest.
this was jaw-dropping,
lip-licking,
biker-bar mating ritual behavior.

✨🤤

but also
trying to line up a backup mattress
in someone’s off-grid meth duplex.
bro had no pride.
just vibes and withdrawal.

❄️💊🤡✨

—

i’m deadass,
he looked her dead in the eyes
like she was
✨the last Christmas ham at the gas station.✨

💭✨ i’m just
looking around 🙃—
scanning for signs
✨i’m in the fucking matrix✨

again,
stone fucking lucid,
watching him
lowkey trying to seduce
the fucking geriatrics
for a bump???

✨😵🥴🤤✨

✨i wish i were kidding.✨

this wasn’t even
during the ❄️ goblin era.❄️

post goblin era bro.
this dude had
already nuclear coded his life—
and bro—
she’s still fucking calling.
so ✨ nah, ✋🚫🧠
we were “good” on paper.
he wasn’t
actively kicking my ass.
but yo,
he was straight up
begging me
to let him stay,
while
literally trying to chill
with the women 🚬💀
who had
just finished comparing
fucking vape flavors and felonies.

✨🤤

like bro. 💭
you weren’t in recovery.
you were in
the parking lot of a biker-themed hospice.

🤤🤤🤤

like he looked her in the eye
with his whole fucking spirit.
i watched it.
straight fucking unadulterated.

👵🧑‍🦼💨 🚬💀

…

✨🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤✨

bro.
💀 even my psychotic ass dad 💀
was like—
”YO—💥
THAT’S A NO, KID

so, that shit was bizarre as fuck?? 🚩

that’s a divorce, bitch”

✨🕺✨

(bro this is when you know
it’s next fucking level)

💭✨
that’s who he was.
he had already punched me
while bankrupting my ass✨
most definitely
getting bj’s and lines ✨
in my fucking car
on my gas money
✨goddamn pregnant✨—

so shit—
what did he have left to lose?

he already knew
he fucked it up.
so fuck it,
he’s out here
trying to barter affection
for blow
a fucking meth-tier tragedy.

😵🥴🤤

this dude?
leaving nothing
but scorched earth
and fucking AARP mailers.

i wish i was joking.

🪦✨

i missed the signs ✨because i don’t do coke✨

✨i don’t do drugs. ✨
that’s the whole fucking story.

—

sweetie.
we didn’t have a
🔥party era🔥—
i barely drink babe.
and by the time
he was “retained”?
i was trapped?
and i was pregnant?
i was:
working seven days a week,
scrubbing toilets—
teaching yoga teacher trainings
busting my ass,
puking thirty times a day,
paying every bill
while his little fucking greek chorus
laughed from the cubicles.

—

listen—
i clocked a few moments
like,
✨ “uhhhh, this feels drug-adjacent,” ✨

but i
wasn’t fucking
living in that world.
i wasn’t scanning for
jaw clench,
cartoon pupils,
5 a.m. vanishings,
extended 7-Eleven runs—
with zero dollars
while i’m almost in labor.

😐😶😶‍🌫️🫥

bro.

i look back at pictures
and want to fucking shake myself—
fucking duh✨—
but in real time,
it was improbable.
highly fucking unlikely.

how does a broke man
i’m financially supervising
afford a whole ass chemical mood shift
that costs more
than my fucking weekly groceries?

✨🥯💫

—

i guess

that’s the pipeline problem.
access had to be coming…
from somewhere.

✨either:✨

✦ working theory a: he was diverting
unreported $$$(✨🥯💫)/hand-to-hand “friendly cash”
into drugs
while i unknowingly subsidized the rest—
billing in my name, drafts from my account,
me footing the fucking “retained” optics; or

✦working theory b: someone else was
bankrolling and hosting—money, location,
and fucking cover—while i was kept out of comms,
out of ownership, out of my marriage,
out of my fucking finances and inside the billing lane.

🪦✨—

baby—

both paths require:

✨access +
✨proximity +
fucking ✨silence.

that’s why this isn’t
a goddamn morality story;
it’s a fucking control-systems disaster.
if you’re supervising reps,
handling my medical data,
and drafting my fucking bank account,
you don’t get to run
a conflict-chaos side door
and then blame me
for not spotting
the fucking powder on the doorknob.

—

bottom fucking line:

i missed it
because i don’t do coke.
i was busy doing bills,
his fucking dog,
prenatal doctor visits,
hospital stays—
paying car insurance + notes
and the goddamn payroll.

but they kept him
fucking camouflaged
in denver
the people paid to notice—
and ethically obligated
to fucking goddamn disclose—didn’t.

you know…
to keep people’s accounts safe?
spot fucking liabilities?
maybe some ✨fucking fraud✨?

✦

so—
that’s not naiveté.
that’s negligence
wrapped in
a fucking commission structure.

💋

trying to like an addict.

read this slow.

i didn’t even fall in love with you.
and i don’t
say that to be mean—
it’s just
that was never even
the assignment.
babe,
i was just trying to like you
between the fucking lies
and the goddamn disease.

they told me
i should be with
a dude like you.

“educated”

whatever.

but nah,
my type?

was always manual labor
maybe a chain smoker
but not a goddamn broke-ass junkie

i fucked men that could
fix my car
build me a bathroom,
never fucking punched me,

definitely rides a motorcycle
but maybe
a neck tattoo
or four.

didn’t cheat—
definitely didn’t lie.

…

…but you?

i said fuck it.

yeah.
that was a stretch.

because babe,
yeah.
you know what you are.
and it’s
not hot,
cool,
brave,
or fucking desirable.
it’s a fucking loser.

but.
truly—
for a second?
i still would have
had your back

but look
now?
somewhere in between
reviewing—
✦ the location tags,
✦ document e-signs,
✦ your blatant lies,
✦ the 5am office run
✦ reviewing the fucking data,
✦ and reading your multi-legal team’s fucking bullshit answer
while we don’t have cash for the electricity bill.

so

i decided,
nah—

you fucking deserve this.

because honestly?
i never betrayed you.
never lied to you.
never even texted them back.
gave you everything.

…and i didn’t even fucking like you.

i was trying to fucking save you.
i was trying to help you.

but sweetie,
that’s what a ride or die
does stupid.
that’s a fucking family.
and i signed the dumbass contract—

to a walking fucking fraud
with probably
multiple oral STDs
because if—
you touched that?
and then forced yourself
into my bed?
fucked up my life?
refused to leave?

almost killed your baby?

and when i on record—
repeatedly
threw your shit out—
you choked me out??????

ok.

babe.
✦ you deserve the hell.
✦ you deserve jail.
✦ you deserve the bad shit.

because look stupid—

i saw a person in there
buried under chemicals and bullshit.
i got fragmented moments,
tiny flickers.
you,
waiting all night in an airport
just to stay sober.

thirty seconds
of clean fucking honesty,
and damn,
you were almost cool,
almost funny.
almost believable.
a weak fucking flashlight
in a flooded basement.
in those little windows,
you were almost someone alive—
almost decent.
almost chill.
almost loving.
almost trying.

even almost a dad.

but babe.

love needs two things:
trust and admiration.
you delivered neither.
you were weak.
you made me carry it all—
while increasingly pregnant,
while you blew a line
off some chick’s coffee table.
you fucking idiot—
you missed every deadline,
missed her goddamn birthday.
broke every fucking promise,
drained me of everything,
put my name on every bill—
and then??
left me and our kid to eat shit
and the fucking fallout
while you
nose-bleeding,
jaw clenching—
heart-beating
dumbass sprinted toward
your next fucking fade‑out.

yeah babe.
and look—i can tell you’re still on that shit.

i see it.
you seem unstable.

because
listen—
i know it’s hard
to look at yourself.
but hey—
you never came through.
not fucking once.
i’m counting goddamn coins
for your kid’s groceries.
you don’t give a fuck.

i look at our kid
and still get her fucking everything.
then the bills don’t get paid.
a grand a month into a dead-ass car note.
you took the stable parts
and left your child with me,
fucking alone—
so you could spiral in peace—
like responsibility was always mine.

you kept
cashing in chaos
like it was a fucking paycheck.

and here’s the miserable part:
i still couldn’t drop the soul of you.
after everything,
i didn’t hate you.
not the mess—your fucking soul.
father of my child.
human,
not a monster,
not a myth.
i kept a candle lit
for the version of you
that only existed
when the drugs ran out
and the lies got tired.

babe,
you fucking trapped me.
drained my accounts.
choked me.
punched me.
spit on me.
then stole my pills.

and then you showed up
at some girl’s place—
the kind
you’d never look at sober—
blazed out of your goddamn mind.
and listen,
you made a choice.
not once.
not twice.
not “the addiction.”
you chose to be a liar.
you chose to punch the mother of your child
because you couldn’t say no
to free yayo and a fucking couch.

so nah,
i audited the wreckage.
pattern‑matched the betrayals.
the “sorry”s that were fucking
gaslighting olympic tier bullshit.

the bragging
about your goddamn sins
like trophies in a locker room
full of dudes who don’t even lift.
you thought it sounded cool.
like yo,
look what this
✨random desperate bitch✨
is offering me—
while i’m married.
and literally everyone else cringed.
you just don’t remember.

and yeah—
the last month you were around?
tracks now.
the crash before you ghosted.
the trailer hideouts.
that twitchy quiet that shows up
when there’s a new plug and an old bill.
was it my friend this time?
did you call up my friend i know does coke?

that we had just hung out with?

because you went from
kinda cool husband,
to piece of shit.
in one day.
funny how the party ends
when the sponsor stops paying.

for the record,
future‑me:
you didn’t just lie.
you fucking shivved me
with the truth you owed and never paid.
again. again. again.

this is a pattern.
you are an addict.

i wasn’t in love with you.
i was in love
with the fucking refund
i’ll never get
on the time i spent
believing you could be better.

so it’s inventory season.
i count the losses.
i close the fucking scrapbook.
i keep the kid,
the peace,
the spine,
the receipts.

you keep the drugs.
you keep the house hopping.
you keep the chick—
that people laugh when they see the pic
(yes, that constantly happens)

you keep
the stories you brag about.
they won’t fucking age well.

and now:
i just watched a boy
rot into a man‑shaped piece of shit.

🪦✨

babe,
your daughter will know what you did.
look back—
there’s no pictures,
no memories,
no presence.
no baby shower,
no “you got this.”
just me vomiting over toilets i cleaned
two days before they cut me open,
so you could siphon my money
through a rolled‑up dollar bill.

there are far more
pictures of me pregnant
documenting—
my black eyes,
swollen faces,
bloody noses,
bruises all over my fucking skull…

than there are of me happy.
pregnant.
alive.

not being beaten.

because that’s what
you turned my whole pregnancy
in to.
getting beat,
getting financially drained.
while you sat on a couch
with a little white line—

and an ugly girl.
probably multiple ugly girls.

who were taking
my private info and fucking money.
lmfao.

you looked
like a troll when our kid
came into the world.
disgusting.
so,
you’re dead to me.
you’re fucking dangerous.
you’d choose a spoon,
a lighter,
a baggie on the side of the road
over your own fucking child.

you’re not a man.
your legacy is a single sentence:

i blew lines, beat my wife nine months pregnant,

and now i live
in someone’s basement—
fucking unemployed,
with some girl, no one wants.

yep, it was coke. ❄️🥺👉👈

ok.
i feel so confident.

after
a gentle
mind-fucking-numbing review
of the
overwhelming fucking evidence

that i will openly say—

i almost got

straight murdered by this dude

❄️😢❄️
bro,
no for real.

yo.

💥i can not fucking believe i’m alive.💥

…i can’t believe
my baby survived it.

❄️😭

…

so nah,
no mercy.
like—

fucking nada.

💥 i’m gunna fuck this shit up.💥

because, holy shit.

bro,
this dude wasn’t
stressed.
he was taking
fucking
lines
and crashing the fuck out

💥💥💥💥

from the
come down—
on the 💥 weekends, 💥
and the nights
he can’t escape
for those 1.5 hour trips.

BECAUSE HE’S AN ADDICT
YOU DUMBASSES.

WOW.

the weekends???
babe,
when the plug is out??

❄️💔

bro,
the timeline?

fucking tragic.

but listen,
the shit i’ve seen?

unforgivable.

next level fuckery.
like done.
forever.

like—🙃

“totally fucking professional”

let’s see
if the legal system
thinks so too!

🗣️ jesus fucking christ.

(yo, i. just. started. and i have enough)

the free yayo?
the plug house???
the theft for tradesies?

🤬💥🌋

cool.
so now?

baby.

shit’s gunna get real. 💥💥

yo,
before?
i was going off
🔥 emails and vibes 🔥
my first time around.

now??

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

fuuuuuuuuckkk.

and
those
amazing fucking denials?

so like,
did your counsel—
ask…
zero
fucking
questions?
or
did y’all just lie?

👿⚡️✊🏻

yo,

THANK YOU.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

LMFAO.

because shit.
now that i look at it?

DUH.

sam.
1
+
1
+
1
+
1
=
BRO WAS NOT WORKING
BRO WAS SNORTING

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

yes.

✨🧂🤨

this
dude
was
so
fucked
up
on so much fucking coke
bro,
he couldn’t even drive✨—
aka totaling your car
in 3 months,
babe.

homie—
the weekends? 🔥
the comedown? 🔥🔥🔥
lol
my guy
never got up
before fucking noon.

😠🗯️

…

nahnahnah.

yo,
wtf—
every text like

🗣️“can you please,
fucking evacuate
my goddamn condo,
give me my car back—
and the fucking debit card???”

but,

NAAAAAHHHHH.
❄️❄️❄️❄️
❄️❄️❄️😤😤

😤😤😤😤

🗣️ my guy would not go.

he did—
spend a few nights—
thinking he was off the grid tho.

🤯 nope.

but hey,
i guess,
you forget
what the fuck happened—
when
you were
fucking blasted 😤😤
out your goddamn mind.

✨🤬🍼

word.

(pussy ass pregnant wife beating—
snorting-with-the-ugly-girls-on-my-money-punk-ass-little-bitch.)

😤😤😤😤

girlie,
you picked
the wrong one,
to defraud and punch
while pregnant.

BRO.

GET
A
FUCKING
JOB.

❄️🥺👉👈

yo.

instead of
a girlfriend
—with a fucking couch.✨

and some blow.

lol…

goddamn.

but
yeah.
i begged this dude to leave.
that’s the only thing
…fucking consistent.

me going—

🗣️ bro, get the fuck out.

and then him strategically
😡😤
beating my ass.

and then
being like—

babe, i love you ❄️

❄️❄️❄️❄️

❄️❄️

❄️

and
me?
just being
financially
and physically
fucking trapped.

in this dumbass fucking pipeline of mid-ass-losers. ❄️❄️❄️

🤯

and yeah—
omg.
THE FUCKING LOCATIONS.

🎯
🎯
🎯
🎯

✨CRASH✨

😡😤

bro.

DUUUUUUH.

i took
so many punches
to the skull 😬—
from a
two-time combat
special ops vet—
9 MONTHS PREGNANT

while he was—

❄️❄️❄️❄️
❄️❄️
❄️
❄️
❄️
❄️
COKED OUT OF HIS GODDAMN MIND ❄️❄️❄️

😡😤🧍

❄️

…bro,
and lived to tell about it.

✨🎱🔌💍💋

a type of legal hell: isn’t fraud, like…bad in court

doing conspiracy to defraud
a single mom, DV survivor
math—

239284
+_)

92493

`!@

so

two out of three
policies lapsed
”due to nonpayment”
in which,
you are the listed payor
on all records—
for consolidated family payment profile,
including your infants!
but at this very moment,
your assigned advisor
on record
is telling you
that you
can’t pay for the two policies
(POOF —they’re gone)
because
”they’re not yours”
+
she knows you just paid
$212
for all three

but now?—
(all documents related!)
that you signed on the record,
have been
erased from the portal
and this
new “advisor”?
states you have to “restart”
your own child’s policy.
but…you just paid?
and you want them?

+

NOW—
in court!—
they put on the fucking archives
that those same policies
are “lapsing”
for non-payment?
within the—

30 day grace period?

…

BINGBONG

02389523-301-2

034931

nope.

………babe,
you do know—
that’s fraud…right?

on the record: liars and cons™

statement for the record (a.k.a. make it make sense edition)

✦

so the official story
they’re trying to sell the court is this:

after the company
assigned me—
a “representative” who was
so professionally involved with my husband
that she literally came into my home
and held my newborn child—
documented photo,
timestamped,
all that shit—
that when
this same rep
mysteriously vanished
from my fucking account
mid-cycle,
post-estrangement
and a completely random
new goddamn person
suddenly appeared
handling my shit,
i, the actual client,
the person paying,
just
never
asked fucking why.

lmfao.

…?????

what????

✦ no questions.
✦ no “who the fuck is this?”
✦ no “where did my previous rep go?”
✦ no “why is someone new in my portal?”

and
months later—
after
i trust this new bitch enough
to initiate a new fucking policy,
out of absolutely nowhere—
they want the court
to believe
that i randomly
“decided”
this vanished rep
(who doesn’t even live
in the same fucking state anymore,
doesn’t even live where my husband lives)
is somehow
tied to
the internal fraud
that wrecked
my fucking finances
while i was goddamn pregnant.

like yeah.
totally.
nothing suspicious
made it up out of nowhere.
no one said shit,
or called it “hostile”—
not damning
at all
that a goblin
who disappears
right after
cozying up to my fucking husband,
that i bought a christmas gift for—
allowed to touch my kid—
that i never even registered
as a fucking possibility—
fucking clearly
because…
bro look at her.
while she still
peeps my private shit
multiple times a day—
like she’s got a goddamn secret.
and a new handler
that’s basically a child—
slides in,
no explanation,
and i just…
never notice?
never ask?

…

made this whole conversation up???
my new rep
is openly—
lying in court documents???

and now…
after i’ve been putting
in writing
for months
that i was told
she was removed for
a personal awkward relationship—
begged for clarification,
filed a fucking lawsuit—
THAT
IT
NEVER
EVEN
FUCKING
HAPPEN.

DINGDONG.
is anyone home??

babe!
she never even said that!

and now?
after i told goblin’s lawyer
the date of my order?

BABE!

she “officially” left—
THE NEXT DAY.

…

yes.

that’s the
fucking fantasy version
they filed—
to a court.
and signed their goddamn names.

and babe,
it collapses the second
you fucking read it out loud.

when you fuck with yay’ed-out stalkers and children handling your wife’s money

the petty files:

how being mid, on drugs, and desperate will get you caught.

—

visualize—
getting away with it.
two years later—

completely,

wife blocked it out.
has zero idea.
literally is posting online,
that it was:
the war,
osama—
and fucking ptsd.

but then
because they have
children running money accounts,
the whole office
is so petty
that they have to mock you
for infidelity that almost got you killed,
that you funded,
and then
defraud you out of life policies—
so obviously,
even your single mom ass
sat up like—
yo wtf??

on the record??????

and then
your side goblin dealer—

…is so fucking obsessed…

babe,
she can not stop stalking.
wife unfollowed her.
months ago.
but goblin??
daily—
for years.
after recusing herself??
to the point,
where your legal wife—
is like bitch,
your homie
just said you were in
an “awkward close personal relationship”
with my still now legal husband—

what the actual fuck
are you doing??

…with that…
face…

yo,
holy shit—
and that’s the only reason…

you got caught???

bro,
yes.

these are definitely the cool girls.
everyone wants to be them.

…

yo wtf is this 🤣✨🤡👇

💀

bro,
are y’all…
aware of each other?

✨🫨🎻

like i stayed up
all night—
exam week…
to just,
dance in fucking circles???

—🤔💭

✦ corporate answer:
“goblin and fraud-girl jr. were the
listed representatives on the policies in question.”
😏🤝🙄 ok. word. obvious—basic shit.✨

✦ individual rep / frat-squad answer:

“never met this bitch. we weren’t actually her reps! she wasn’t a fucking client! she just maybe emailed us!”
🚨 BINGBONG that’s a denial. oh shit 🤣—bro, what? oh, you don’t know me like that? ✨💀

✦ and mr. zero-child-support w/ a law firm answer:

“it was all professional! no abuse! 🪦✨ also i have no knowledge of any rep assignments!”
🧠 my guy’s out here running a solo improv night.

brooooooooo.

y’all took me tf out w these.

😐✨

no lie.
i was reading just like,
wait,
what the fuck?

ok.

👋🏻✨

yo,
it truly
straight took me
~6 fucking hours
to organize
this shit-show in my inbox—
you know,
catch up.
because look,
baby girl??
mid-✨sleep regression✨
for a fucking month,
21 months freestyle,
zero sleep,
homie,
my kid wouldn’t go down
til midnight
🌪️👶🏼✨
and it’s midterms week
week behind in case briefs
i think i have a fucking paper due—
i have like $7
and zero babysitter

but—

y’all.
come on.

😩💔

the fuck was this???

just wanna watch me
run fucking laps?
🏃🔁💫
proving
the most basic-ass shit?
this is true fucking client care, bro.
yo,
my dudes even
out here—
avoiding jurisdiction? 😐✨
”i was never
even fucking there—
definitely not
committing fraud
and punching pregnant chicks.”

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻✨

stop.

…LMFAO.
fucking get it.

🔥💀

…

(now on to criminal law at 5:30am.)

🎪 finance 101: how to get defrauded and 👐😵 manually strangled ✨in fucking unison✨

imagine this scenario—

you’re pro se—
squaring up with
way too many paid “professionals”

✨🎪🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡✨

…

and fucking picture this shit—

they didn’t just
appear to…
💀 lie in pleadings. ✨
💀 they lied in a way that requires you—
to be fucking stupid for their story to work.✨

✨🤡✨

like—
what?
did you think
i got hit in the goddamn head?
oh wait—
you fucking did!
of course,
you had that domestic violence record. 😭

damn babe,
i guess that’s the dumbass fatal flaw.
because shit,
my memory fucking returned:

and babe;
i got the records—

🪄✨ i initiated the policies.
🪄✨ i submitted the medical paperwork.
🪄✨ i completed the underwriting on all three.
🪄✨ i signed the eDocs on all three again, babe.
🪄✨ i had direct comms about each policy with my fraudulent goblin advisor via deleted social DMs.
🪄✨ and they all drafted from one consolidated profile.

and now
wait for it—
their official position is:

🧚‍♀️✨

🤥 “she was just… fucking assisting.” (lmfao)

🤥 “her documented abuser was the true owner.”

🤥 “she has no legal claim to any of it.”

dawg,
that ain’t just false.
that’s strategic fucking erasure
of a documented domestic violence victim;
of which they had the full fucking record—
so damn,
now?
this shit
appears to be
the exact
fucking definition of…
✨constructive fraud.✨

like holy shit—

✨🤡🎪✨

is this real life?

are they
really out here
retrofitting a narrative✨
when the records still exist??—
after the abuse,
after the egregious, continued lack of supervision,
after the policy lapses,
after the goddamn whistleblowing.

…and they’re hoping the court will treat me
like some crazy-ass wife™

????

not like the—
🪄✨client, payor, and primary target of the fucking misconduct.✨

yo,
the documents don’t lie.
but this part?
shit,
it’s appears to actually be
slam dunk civil fucking theft. 🥷💰
because under Colorado law, if someone:

✦ 🐀 intentionally deprives you of something you paid for,
✦ 🐀 uses deception to block your access,
✦ 🐀 and financially benefits from it?

babe!
🪄✨🏰🧚‍♀️🦄🌈

✦ that’s C.R.S. 18-4-405 territory.✨
✦ and shit, entitled to 3x damages + attorney fees.✨
✦ even better: fraudulent concealment voids their deadlines.✨

✨🤡✨

yo,
and think about it:
they’re not denying you were pregnant,
or that goblin had my medical records,
or that i submitted fucking everything.

🔥🔥🔥🔥

they’re just saying:

“well, technically, your abusive husband’s name was on the backend, so... lol you lose.”

(cue circus music) 🤡🃏🎪🤹🍭

bro,
nah.
that’s not a defense.
that’s a crime with fucking metadata.

shit,
i got the records.
they’ve got the fucking audacity.
and when discovery opens?
they’re going to need
a goddamn time machine
to explain this shit.

✨🤡✨

like,
damn,
cool story.

but, you’re fucking cooked.

⚠️ uh oh, reads like a girl-boss rat ✨🐀💍💋✨

aka since it obviously wasn’t work, what the fuck were y’all doing???

—

💭🔮✨

what a woman
not enmeshed with my husband
would have done
as a fucking professional—

⚠️⚠️🐀⚠️⚠️

the fucking baseline expectation
from any reasonable, adept
(fucking married💍💋✨)
✨professional woman
in that position:

🪄✨🏰🧚‍♀️🦄🌈

✦ “your wife’s due in a few months? let’s get you set up to work from home.”
✦ “most people Zoom in. you don’t need to be here all day. take care of your family.”
✦ “she’s the one funding this? let’s schedule a follow-up family financial meeting.”
✦ “you live over an hour away? let’s save you the drive. let’s make it function for you both.”
✦ “we can unquestionably just check in remotely—literally no need for constant in-office one-on-ones.”

…
nah
but,
what i got?

✨🐀✨

she saw me visibly pregnant,
knew i was funding the whole thing,
my entire pregnancy—
and said: 😈💭

✦ 🐀 “i think you should come in.
✦ 🐀 every day.
✦ 🐀 all week.
✦ 🐀 no production?
✦ 🐀 no fucking problem.
✦ 🐀 sit here. with me.” ✨

💋

but babe,
after taking every
single detail
of the spouse’s equity
and monthly budget??—
taking notes on the fact
✨hubby has:
nothing but increasing fucking debt??

ok.
✨💵💋🐍

but then?
miss early 30’s “senior advisor”??
fucking poof. ✨😐😶😶‍🌫️🫥✨

um. 🐀?

so…
for six months…
unpaid…
because…she…asked?

✦ he commuted 2.5 hours daily
✦ showed up 5 days a week
✦ answered constant communications
✦ shared consistent 1 on 1 space
✦ received ritual—yet completely unproductive—direction

but…
wait,
practically same fucking job,
only ~30 min away??
but fucking
salaried??
a few months later??

⚠️🐀

…
babe!
he’s like—
wait…
nah,
for money?
with a laptop?
absolutely fucking not—
this shit is wack, bro.
”she’s controlling me!”
and fucking quits.

✨🐀💍💋✨