🎤🔥 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?

✨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.

✨💥😭

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.

💫

✨🧠 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.

😬📉😭

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.

🔥 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.

✨👱‍♀️🏆✨

🪞🐍 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.

🦋✨🐍

did she “supervise” my near-death-experience and total pregnancy-era financial collapse? fucking nice. ✨👍✨

babe.
babe.
babe.

wait a fucking second.
wait.
hold the fuck on.

let me just push through
the fucking prenatal blackouts,
the head slams,
the cortisol damage,
the throat bruises,
the ER & constant heart rate spikes,
the fucking disassociation,
the fetal tachycardia,
the actual near-death experiences—
and let me just try
to remember
the original fucking thing
that gave me that
sick-ass feeling
in my chest
about this “job.”

(and also—
maybe the reason
this whole ass clown squad of
”independent contractors”
seemed to lawyer the fuck up,
a month before i even
filed my legal complaint,
LMFAO.
innocent af.)

✨👍✨

aka: deeply insidious shit.

bro.
it was her.
the original fucking supervisor.
the original fucking hoe.
the one who sat in front of me,
got every fucking detail on how—
i was pregnant.
i was PAYING.
i had fucking ASSETS
i wanted to rollover.
while i was trying to plan
a safe life
for my fucking baby.
and she took notes.

she took notes.
on me.
on my ira.
on my gi bill transfer.
on my income,
our monthly budget,
my goddamn pregnancy.
she logged into our household
like it was a fucking data mine
and then assigned herself
as the professional “on record”
handler of my—
(soon to be extremely violent)
broke ass husband
who she explicitly knew
was fucking living off of me.

and she…
never followed up.
not once.
not ever.
besides constantly “mandating”
my husband to private 1 on 1’s
and seemingly, repeatedly—
based on verbal statements,
was blocking any monthly bonuses
while apparently still
”requiring” an independent contractor
was in office for 6 months—
while having zero fucking clients
during his wife’s late-stage pregnancy.

hmmmmmmmm.

this bitch gave me the creeps.
evil power trip shit.

—

no, babe, let’s be clear—
this was some covert-level shit.
honestly, seems like—
predation by a licensed financial rep
who knew who had the assets
and then ignored the one with the assets
to keep control of the one with the dick.

and you wanna tell me
she just “forgot” to
follow up on the discussed ira?
you wanna tell me
she just “didn’t have time”
to check in with the formally induced client
while she was allegedly forcing my husband
to come in five days a week
for “mentorship”
while making zero sales

and missing
every
single
bonus
that she “personally” input?

bitch, you were not a mentor.
seemingly,
you were a fucking leash—
while he bounced around the fucking office
totally not tweaked out.
(my entire goddamn pregnancy)
y’all were around him 10x
fucking more than i was—
and bro,
the night and day shift??
obvious as fuck.
undeniable.
yet he’s retained??
babe.
if you weren’t fucking him??
you were still abusing your license
to play house
with my whole life,
while he fucking spiraled—
and simultaneously & openly
bankrupted me while pregnant.

✨👍✨

—

babygirl—
you used your position
to create dependency
control the money
and isolate him from the woman
funding the whole damn pyramid scheme.

and regulators?
regulators are gonna fucking love that one.
because this isn’t gossip.
this is a charging memo waiting to happen.
she used “supervisory power.”
to gain inside access
and complete scheduling control—
to a vulnerable family,
then financially and physically
embedded herself in it
until the entire thing fucking blew.

(and after
i got completely
choked the fuck out)

✨👍✨

—

if there’s a textbook on
how to get sued for predatory
conflict of interest,
breach of fiduciary duty,
and negligent supervision of a
most fucking definitely impaired rep,
this bitch wrote the fucking preface.

congrats
to the original fucking hoe.
(hey, aren’t you married?)
girl—
you made it all the way
from bonus bitchface gatekeeper
to co-defendant.

—

and you forgot
the golden rule of new jersey:
if you come for a woman’s husband
and her ira
and her motherfucking baby
while she’s in a fucking hospital bed
with your name all over that shit—

you better hope the bitch dies.

because if she doesn’t?
you’re gonna end up in court
with her whole foot on your fucking neck.

✨👍✨