found this off facebook

How I made $2000 off a meth dealer.

A few years ago I was married to a degenerate tweeker (she wasn’t originally like that, but y'know, meth does what meth does).

I kept interfering with her tweeker lifestyle trying to get her treatment etc and she rewarded my efforts with a restraining order (lied, said I beat her and other overly dramatic stuff).

So, I get kicked out of my place and end up in a studio apartment with nothing but my toothbrush and the clothes I was wearing.

One of her great plans was to get a front for a ton of dope using EVERYTHING OF VALUE WE OWN as collateral.

Drug dealer literally takes everything and puts it in a storage unit somewhere in town. Wife plans to stomp on the dope, sell it and by the weekend be a millionaire (tweeker logic).

Of course, she fucks off the plan and ends up just doing the dope so now all our expensive stuff is in the wind.

I try to work out something with POS drug dealer but he wanted an absurd amount of payback, plus I made some threatening comments he didn’t appreciate so negotiations stalled.

Eventually, I catch wind that he got locked up and that some friends took all HIS property and put it in storage for safekeeping until he got out.

I hit every storage place in town with my story and his picture hoping to catch some kind of break.

Eventually, I find the place. Owner tells me that the unit is going up for auction the next weekend for non-payment. He tells me if I just pay the 3 months back rent that he’d write it up as I won the auction and I can have the unit.

$320 gets slapped on the counter and we go drill the lock.

All my stuff is there! And, whaddaya know, now I own all his stuff free and clear.

And, cuz I’m a nice guy, I dug out all the personal irreplaceable stuff (old photos, important documents, etc), boxed them up and gave them to his mom (found her on Facebook).

Actually made quite a bit of money off the deal selling his shit on Craigslist (came out about $2000 in the black on the deal).

Divorced now, have all my stuff and am happy….

Last night my husband showed me a local Beaumont news story about a woman died in my hometown as she tried to stay afloat in the floodwaters of Hurricane Harvey. The little girl was rescued alive, but the mother was unresponsive. I shook my head. The next morning, I saw a post in the Facebook group for my high school senior class about the tragedy. Photos appeared in the comments and that’s when I fell apart: police had identified the woman who died as my friend Collette.

Articles about her death were published all over the country. The LA Times called her death “a true testament to a mother’s will.” The NY Times headlined her as “Drowning Mama.” I don’t mention these descriptions because they’re wrong, they’re all true, but because it felt strange to read about someone I knew described as a near-anonymous victim.

Many people in my senior class had trouble remembering her. They dug up old yearbook photos and confirmed she did indeed graduate with us at West Brook Senior High School. That’s understandable, you can’t know everyone you went to high school with. But I knew her, and I’d like to write down what I remember about her before she becomes another Facebook profile memorial.

I don’t remember how I met Collette. It must have been soon after I moved back to Texas, and we were friends from middle school until we graduated from high school. We ate lunch together when we had matching lunch periods, went to the movies, showed up at each other’s parties, had sleepovers and hung out at the mall. I can see her sitting on my couch, or my bedroom floor, chatting the night away about nothing in particular. One night, just for fun, I recorded our voices and played it back.

“Turn it off,” she said. “That conversation was boring the first time.”

One day I took a plastic frog to school and pretended to pick it up from the ground. I told her I’d caught a real frog and when I tried to show it to her, she backed away. I tossed it at her and she squealed and ran off. When she came back I admitted it was plastic and she gave me that smile and rolled her eyes. At lunch, I left the frog on my soda can while we went to the food line and when we came back, a group of kids were circling it. Thinking they were crushing a real frog, they smacked the can and spilled soda all over Collette’s food. She was very forgiving.

She was late for every movie. All of them. Not “missed the previews” late, not even “thirty minutes in” late. She would show up a full hour into every show. I usually let her pick the film and she’s the reason I saw Curly Sue and Threesome in the theater. Threesome was so bad, I leaned over near the end and whispered, “This is awful, let’s just go.”

She folded her arms and clenched her teeth. “I paid to see this movie,” she said, “and I’m gonna’ watch it.”

I didn’t argue with her, she’d paid full price to see half a movie. I sat back and watched Stephen Baldwin have an awkward sex scene because fair was fair.

People gave her a hard time about her weight. “You have such a pretty face, they tell me,” she said once. “You would be so pretty if you lost weight. That just, uch…” She didn’t need to put into words how vicious and useless it was to say things like that. Collette was tougher than the people who tried to define her by her body.

Collette and her mother were close. One year her mother rented a hotel room for her daughter’s birthday and invited a group of us to stay. We watched Single White Female and scared ourselves to death. There was cake and a sparkly chandelier from Party City and we stayed up too late and it was one of the best nights of my life. Collette loved parties.

Dooney and Burke handbags were a must-have among affluent girls at my high school. We weren’t affluent girls, but Collette’s mom gave her the money to buy one anyway. There was only one store that sold them at Parkdale Mall and they had a reputation for using saleswomen to intimidate teens into leaving the store. I didn’t want to shop in a store like that but she wanted me to go along so I went with her for support. She marched right up to the counter and picked out a purse without paying any attention to how the saleswomen were looking at her. Collette was fearless.

I tried to find pictures, but I haven’t yet. Pictures were physical back then. I did find the note she wrote me in our senior yearbook. It read:

Hi Georgia,

Well, it’s four years later and soon we’ll be off to college. I can’t believe we’re SENIORS. We’ve had a lot of fun over the years but it seems like we’re always busy. Good luck in college and the future. Have fun and remember you only live once.


Collette Sulcer

Ps. Stay in touch.

We didn’t. Every graduate in 1994 knew how hard it would be to stay in touch in a world that had stopped writing letters but hadn’t yet discovered cellphones, Facebook and e-mail. I went out of state and she went to Lamar. She became the kind of medical technician her co-workers can’t stop raving about. An entire hospital of medical professionals in Port Arthur, Texas is grieving her tonight.

When Facebook took off, we found each other again and I followed her life from a distance. She had a baby and I thought, “We’re both mothers now, look at us.” On August 27, I was working late and I saw a Facebook notification pop up that read, “Collette Sulcer has marked herself safe from Hurricane Harvey.”

“That’s nice,” I thought. She was in Beaumont, not Corpus or Houston. She was safe.

Except a few hours later, she wasn’t.

I’d been thinking about Collette a lot lately because I’ve been writing about her. I’ve often written about her, under different names and characters. She exemplified how to be a friend, and I admired her honesty, her positivity, her support and her compassion. Collette was someone I wished I could be more like.

I hope Jordyn reads this someday, when she’s older. I’d like her to know what her mother was like when she was young, that she was a hero who loved her more than her own life, but that she was also a person worth knowing who uplifted everybody who knew her. They deserved more time together.

Ohmygod! Just found this off Facebook. Really would remember if I’ve seen this before!!! 🙌👍🖤🖤🖤

and how freaking cute is he in a backwards hat?? 😍😍😍

I found my neighbors’ facebook pages (which are stupidly public) tonight, which may have been a mistake.

I learned so much that just makes them (both the ‘tree-hating neighbors’ to my left, and the creepy, harassing neighbor to my right) seem SO MUCH WEIRDER.

Also, I learned that the creepy, harassing neighbor likes to take pictures of the snow in his backyard from his porch - a view that also often gets our house and backyard in the shot. *shudders* He also posted two, months apart, pictures of his busted up car - and in comments he won’t say how it happened, just complains about it, so I assume he was to blame for the accidents. His adopted son’s biological father works as a cashier at the grocery store I go to each week, and I know exactly whom he is. *shudders more about the connection* And, he’s a firm Fuckwit In Chief supporter, too - tho, I coulda guessed that.

At least, according to his ‘facebook check-ins’, we don’t frequent any of the same restaurants. Of course, it’d be difficult for me to visit Taco Bell several times a month like he does.

jessicas instagram posts are always so funny like she’ll have a picture of her sitting on some nondescript stairs and the captions always something inspirational that she found off of the white mom side of Facebook 

There was a guy I dated a while back who was really great but I just didn’t feel anything for even after several dates, and I wanted to think of someone to set him up with, but before I even had the chance he got engaged. Anyways, although he was a pretty happy and laid back guy, in all his shidduch photos and everything on his Facebook he always looked SO serious, to the point where I personally found it off-putting. 

But I looked at his Facebook today and he’d changed his profile picture to one of him and his now-wife. He has the hugest smile (and so does she) and it’s honestly just so freaking cute. I’m so happy he found her.

anonymous asked:

Hi! I am doing a research paper and was wondering where you got the "I tried" poem. If you could help me that would be great! :) (btw I've been through it and back so I know that the best way to get better is to get off this wretched website)

Hey, I found it on facebook, the page is called “scream poems.”
And tumblr helps me a lot, I post everytime when I don’t feel good, which is every day.

Hey guys, soooo…Tumblr’s new feature is really killing artists here. Heck I’m a small time and it’s hitting me too :T So! If you guys get to actually see this post, please please PLEASE check me out at the following locations! I would greatly appreciate it ;-;

Facebook (my most active)

Twitter (I tweet a lot of sketches and WIPs not found on my Facebook. Trade-off is that I Tweet random stuff too >>)

Instagram (when I remember I have it and actually post to it)

anonymous asked:

I started googling "i regret h" and it inmediately guessed "i regret having children" lol. Anyway, I found a facebook group with the same name and thought it was like a goldmine for this blog. I recommend you check it out. Reading it is really sad but as a CF it's so sooo satisfactory at the same time

If I ever need a strong antidote, fast, to all the well-meaning people who warn me in prophetic tones that my life will be dark and cold and lonely, I google “I regret having children”. It’s like coming up for air. 

I found that Facebook group, too! Thank you for the tip-off. It’s not exactly a fun read, but oh my, it’s illuminating.

I am really struggling with my 3 year old girl. She has always been a bad sleeper and today I had to miss work, as she only let me sleep for 2 hours. I then had a panic attack and a meltdown where I was telling my husband I will leave them as I can’t take this anymore. I even vomited as a result of my emotions. I do not know what to do. […] We have no family and friends. No support network. What do I do? I hit her yesterday and feel so guilty. I wish I never had her, she takes and takes and we are empty.

“She takes and takes and we are empty.” 

That’s chilling.

If reading that scares you, you have at least one Damn Good Reason not to have kids.