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Saturday, December 28, 2013

Rambling rant

If God exists, a God as biblically described, then He has really screwed the pooch when it comes to His treatment of my wife. There is no doubt in my mind that if God is an involved sort of deity, he has failed to involve Himself with her well being. She is saddled with the impossible task of caring for me, all the while maintaining her composure while I cry at the drop of a hat. She has, literally, no time to herself. I am a project that requires around the clock attention. All of my weaknesses must be met by her strength.
A raw fucking deal for her. Her sadness must be veiled as mine dangles, bait for empathy and pity. She never falters. I cannot meet the expectations fallen upon me while she exceeds all expectations she thrusts upon herself.
Indeed, the religion based God thing needs to step it up. He will find no more deserving soul. Don't give me that original sin shit. She is no sinner, never was. She is a saint, my saint, perfect, and she doesn't deserve the hand she's been dealt.
So....... If you're the praying type, pray that God gets His head out of His ass and helps her.
I'm tired of all of this ALS crap. Help Amy. Don't waste your time on me.

3 comments:

  1. Just to (hopefully) pre-empt all arguments pertaining to the infallability of God, I ask you to consider that any contradictory content places you in opposition to my well supported premise that Amy is perfect, as she was, is, and always will be.

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  2. she is. i love her. i am lucky to have grown up around you guys. she is a role model to me and i adore her spirit. god is a dick.

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  3. AAAhahahahhaaa.a.a.a. You guys are soooo funny. Good thing God has a sense of humor. Just because you don't understand Her/Him/Me doesn't make us wrong:)
    And before you go bitching too whole heartedly how rough we/I have it- You always said we get along better the more time we spend together. You constantly wished and wanted for me to have more time for you. You wished I wouldn't make myself crazy with silly craft projects and deadlines. You wanted me to cook (you should have mentioned WELL). You wanted to be around the grandkids. You wanted to be able to see our kids more often. Wanted to find a way to retire (be specific, be specific, be specific...) Beautiful home, great neighborhood, loving friends and family,
    I'm just saying....
    But- while you are in this mood- by your own admission I MUST be RIGHT since I am perfect! This means that YOU WILL GET WELL. We will show the flying finger to those doctors who were throwing dirt on us from the first moment they met us and You WILL write a few awesome books one of which will be about our adventures together.
    And yes, I am perfectly perfect for you in all my imperfections.
    Have all got ushy tummies from all this mushiness yet?
    Anyone who prints T-Shirts feel free to make him an X-Large one that says - Dang, I hate that she is always right.

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