My Husband the Meth Addict

After I kicked my husband out of the apartment almost a year and a half ago, he admitted to “trying meth a few times” with some girl he had seen.  Well, over the past six months, or maybe more, he has sunken to new lows.  He was living in a house with a bunch of junkies and whores, and now he’s completely hooked on meth.  He told me before Christmas that he was not smoking it, but that they were injecting it.  I didn’t even know that was possible, but then again, I’m not a meth addict.  To be perfectly honest, meth is the one drug that totally scares the shit out of me and he knew that.

So one of the people living with him in the junkie house was pink-haired girl in her early thirties.  To see her pictures on Facebook you might think, oh, she’s pretty, but those pics are old and I’m sure by now she looks like your typical meth-head.  In fact, my husband looks like your typical meth-head now.  Well, he’s been infatuated with this girl for a while now and still is, even though he told his mom otherwise so that she would think he was serious about getting clean this time.  I don’t know what all is going on between them, other than the meth, but he’s been posting shit all over Facebook about how one day she’s the love of his life, and then next he hates her.  I don’t believe a word he says about anything anymore.

Over the past couple of months I have tried to talk him into getting help, not only for himself, but for his son in particular.  He doesn’t care about any one or any thing anymore.  He had called his mom a couple of weeks ago and she came and got him and was letting him stay with her.  I was happy about it at first because I thought that finally he was going to get the help he needs.

Well, last Wednesday he called me crying and talking crazy.  He said he was driving around and didn’t know where to go.  First of all, I didn’t understand how he was driving because he didn’t have a car.  Or so I thought.  Then he told me that his mom bought him an old car.  That is the stupidest thing she could have done because that gives him the ability to go out and get more drugs.  Then he texts me later saying that he was back at her house.  I thought all was well again.

This morning I messaged his mom to let her know that I wouldn’t make it to church this morning.  She asked me if I had heard from him because he got mad and left on Thursday and hadn’t been back.  I immediately pulled up his Facebook page and saw that he had made a post three hours earlier saying he was stuck at Wal-Mart, broke, no food, no gas, and needed help.  So I messaged him.  He messaged me back saying he was at his mom’s.  Of course I didn’t believe him because I had JUST talked to her.  After I told him that he sent me a picture back and the message “Fuck off.”

There is so much more to all this than I can write about in one post, but this will have to do.  The fact that I never could bring myself to completely stop worrying about him, or to block him from contacting me, or to stop hoping that one day he would decide to get help, has made my life stressful and depressing.  Drugs like meth do that.  They don’t just hurt the people doing the drugs, they hurt everyone in that person’s life.  I have my own issues and problems, but I was trying to help the man who I married, and even though it didn’t work out and never will, I still wanted him to be safe, healthy, and happy.  It doesn’t look like that’s ever going to happen now.

I did block him after his hateful messages this morning.  I am done with him and his fucked up lifestyle.  If his mom wants to keep trying, then good for her, but I’m done.  Meth is an awful drug that turns good people into bad ones, and the bad ones into even shittier ones.  He’s one of the shittiest.  He’s a manipulator, a whiner, a liar, a lazy bastard, and a heartless asshole.

I tried being a better, more forgiving, more helpful person and to keep hope alive, but it’s dead now.  He probably will be soon too if he doesn’t go get some real help at a rehab facility.

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in such a long time, and that my first post back has to be about my meth addicted soon-to-be ex-husband, but sometimes life is shitty and people are shittier.  Sometimes, you just have to let that shit go.  That’s finally what I’m doing because if I don’t, it’s going to kill me too.

Until next time…

Peace, love, & happiness.


The New Tales of a Single Ginger Preacher’s Daughter

I’ve been single again now for almost six months. Of course I’ve had the occasional “relationship” since then, but nothing serious, and certainly nothing even close to “being in love.” I’m completely satisfied with that. I’m in no hurry to get back into a serious relationship. When I was dating the Scotsman, I did start getting a little too attached though. So when he dumped me just a couple of days into January, I was hurt, and a little pissed off. Here I was taking the leap again, and trusted this guy, and he has to go and turn out to be an asshole. I’m over it now, but at the time it really bothered me.

Since kicking Buck, husband #3, out of the apartment for good, I’ve been busy working and haven’t been able to date much. When I do have time though, I’d like to spend that time with someone who is laid back, smart, funny, and sexy. So far I’ve only had very little luck.


After Scotsman, I met Redbeard on my favorite dating site, Plenty of Fish. Redbeard is former military, injured in Afghanistan, and now unemployed. Of all of those things, the only thing that really turned me off was that he’s a ginger. I know, I know, it sounds strange because I’m a ginger myself, but I just can’t help that I’ve never really been attracted to redheaded men.

I gave him an honest try though. I gave him a chance even though he’s going through a bitter divorce and has a 16-year-old daughter, and didn’t seem to have much time to come over and hang out. (“Hang out” is basically my code for have sex.) I just wanted a FWB type situation, and I stated that clearly on my profile. So when Redbeard started coming over for a couple of hours and then leaving, without having sex with me, I started getting pissed off about the situation. I got the feeling that he was only coming over to drink my beer and smoke my weed. That, my dear sir, is not acceptable. If I’m going to get a guy tipsy and high, then dammit, he’d better make it worth my while. LOL

So last Friday, after not seeing him at all for almost two weeks, I sent him a message on Facebook explaining how I felt, and letting him know that I wanted to call it quits and just be friends (no benefits). He sent me a message back two days later saying that he was sorry and had been preoccupied with family stuff, but he still wanted to try to hang out sometime. I told him that once things calm down we might get to. I don’t know how realistic that is though because I’m really not that into him.

Brendan Fraser

Saturday night, Brendan Fraser (he looks like a young Brendan Fraser…duh. lol) came over around 9:30 pm. We talked for a while and then made out on the couch. I had not yet had sexual intercourse with Brendan, but I definitely wanted to. The previous weekend he had come over and stayed for about three hours. We drank and smoked and listed to music and he ordered a pBone when we discovered that we both played trombone and I asked if he had ever seen one. ( Right when Brendan was about to leave that first night, we were standing in the kitchen saying goodbye when he went to hug me and ended up kissing me. My switch turned on and I went for it. We ended up making out on the couch. I didn’t even bother asking if he wanted to go to the bedroom. Something in me took over and the next thing I know I was swallowing his load. So, once that was done he really did have to leave so we kissed goodnight and he left.

When he came back over Friday night, I was ready for a lot more. I wanted the D! LOL And I got what I wanted. I forgot to mention that he is ten years younger than me. He had a lot of stamina, and he didn’t waste any of it. I just hope my upstairs neighbor couldn’t hear me. The only thing that I didn’t like was that he didn’t stay longer. I would have loved to have gotten a few more rounds in with him. Twice was not nearly enough for me.

Doc Oc

This past Saturday night, I met Doc Oc, the optometrist. He’s older than me, but he looks younger, and he has kind of a metro sexual hipster vibe going on. I was digging it. However, when he first got here he was so soft-spoken and reserved that I kept thinking that he might get up and leave at any moment. Once he had a beer, relaxed, and saw my lunch box collection, he opened up a little. I did appreciate that even though he was on the quieter side, that didn’t mean he was shy. I like when men make the first move. I’ll do it if I have to, but I don’t always want to have to be the one to do it.

He started slowly and respectfully by holding my hand, which was sweet. Fifteen minutes later his hand was in my pants and then mine was unzipping his. We stopped there after a while though. He said he wanted to continue when he wasn’t so tired. I was sexually frustrated, but I had to accept his offer of continuing later. If he could deal with some blue balls, then so could I. But O.M.G. I was dying.

I text my sister after he left telling her that I was still alive and that he wasn’t a serial killer. I also told her that I was in trouble with this one because he made my heart skip a beat…and that shit hurts! I have a heart condition! LOL I have a very strong feeling that he might just be the muse I’ve been looking for.

So…it’s only Monday. I have to wait until Saturday to see Doc Oc again. I hope I make it that long. Between the chest pains and the horniness, I might die. We will see. I will (or my sister if I die) update you on what happens. 😉

Until next time…

Peace, love, & happiness.


When you wish upon a star

Sometimes dreams do come true, no matter how small and insignificant they may seem.

sexykiltSix years ago I wrote a post called “Amen Snoop. Amen.” In the post I described a dream that I had about a tall Scottish god of a man in a kilt with legs like tree trunks. Well, guess what? I finally met him last week. He’s 6’3″ with dark wavy hair and legs, well, like tree trunks. Also, he’s Scottish, accent and all. Although he wasn’t wearing a kilt when I met him, he still managed to make me weak in the knees. Oh, and I found the Loch Ness Monster. I’d say I found it under the kilt, but like I said, unfortunately, there was no kilt. So at least I finally got to find out who the Scottish hunk in my dream was.

I know you’re probably wondering what happened with my soon to be ex-husband, Buck.  Well, he’s still being a disgusting whore. Except now I think he’s sunk lower and has become a full-blown meth head who has to prostitute himself out to support his bad habits. I think this because he keeps posting pictures and videos and tweeting about it. He tries to say that all the stuff that he posts is “just talk”, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that.

So I’m working on a strategy for the divorce and moving on with my life. This Preacher’s Daughter has had enough of losers, users, and abusers. I’m ready to enjoy my freedom and maybe even spend some time with a decent man for a change.

Until next time…

Peace, love, & happiness.


Setting Precedent: The Follow-up

In my last post I told you about Buck cheating on me and lying to me.  I am far from over this, but for now I did allow him to come back to the apartment.  We had a long talk yesterday.  I reminded him of the rules that are in place so as to make the “open marriage” concept work for us.  Obviously it wasn’t working for him.  He had it so easy.  All he had to do was be honest with me and not lie and hide things from me.  He realizes that now, but it’s too late.  I’m not sure I can recover from this betrayal.

He told me that he can’t stop and won’t stop being with other people.  I knew that already, but I thought with the rules we had agreed upon that it would not be that big of a problem.  So, now I realize that it’s not just that he wants to be with other people, it’s that he wants to be sneaky and for it to be taboo.  He doesn’t enjoy it as much if I know what he’s doing.  I understand that there is an element of excitement to cheating, but the price you pay is never worth it.  Unfortunately for me, I’m probably going to be the one who pays the greatest price with my health.  He doesn’t use protection and doesn’t seem to understand that you can still get an STD from performing oral on someone.  I told him it’s only a matter of time before it all comes to a crashing halt, and I’m not willing to just ignore his idiotic behavior anymore.

He has no respect for me, and he sure as hell doesn’t care about my feelings or needs.  So I’m guessing that this marriage (number three for me) will probably end much sooner than “till death do us part.”  I swear to God and Jesus and Bruno Mars that I will never ever get married again, not even for the health insurance.  I’d rather die of a wonky heart than have to put up with this shit any more.

Dumb ass.  Just like my sister Fallen Angel says, men are all dumb ass motherfuckers who are selfish pricks.  They can’t be trusted with anything, especially their own cocks.

One more thing.  I owe an apology to my friends in Mississippi.  They tried to warn me about Buck.  They didn’t like him and I just thought it was because I was moving away with him.  I was so wrong.  They were right.  Buck is a lazy, selfish, cheating, lying, son-of-a-bitch.  Damn, I have horrible taste in men.  WTF is wrong with me?


Peace, Love and Happiness

One night, while at the local watering hole with DC, one of her old high school friends  showed up.  She sat down with us and we started talking.  She told us about her kids, grand-kids, and all that good Southern small talk shit.  Then once we moved on to the topic of relationships, she dropped a bomb on us.  She has not had sex in ten, ten, years.  Oh my God.  I almost spit out my beer.

DC was also shocked, but she said that she had also gone years without before.  DC then noticed that I had turned pale and stopped breathing at the thought of not having sex for TEN years.  DC then asked me, “Well Ginger, what’s the longest you’ve ever gone?”  My answer, “six months.  Those were six of the longest months of my life.  DC then proceeded to laugh and snort, spitting out her Scotch, then saying, “That’s all? Six months?!”

So last week I went 4 days without sex.  Before that I went another four days without sex.  As of tomorrow I will have gone another four days.  If I can make it past day four I will have accomplished a tiny milestone towards my new goal.  Celibacy for one *cough* year.  I want to cry just typing that, and yes, I hang my head in shame.


Shame, not from being embarrassed that I willfully choosing to become celibate, or that I probably won’t make it even three months, but that it’s come to this.  That I actually need to quit having sex cold-turkey because I have a serious problem.  You may think I’m just trying to be funny, but I’m not.  There are so many things that I’ve done that I couldn’t even write about on this blog because, even though this is anonymous, I was still so damn ashamed of myself that I couldn’t even to write about the awful things I had done.

So I’ve decided that since I’ve left so much out of my blog because I wasn’t proud of doing those things, I’m going to write about them while I’m suffering through my year of celibacy.  That way, I write more, I purge my sins, and you don’t get left out of the confessional loop any longer.

Call it a cleansing process.  I’m already about to have a panic attack just writing about it, and it hasn’t even been four days yet.  I plan to do anything necessary to stay celibate.  No more hanging out at the bar, getting drunk, flirting with strange men.  No more online dating websites.  Most of all, no more ex-lovers, ex-husbands, and ex-boyfriends tempting me by waving their cocks in my face.  No more dick-blindness.  SLUTS FOR A CURE.  So, there’s my half-assed plan on remaining celibate for ONE YEAR in search of inner-peace, self-love, and authentic happiness.

Peace, love, & happiness.