Coffee and Breakfast

Men Only:

I have nothing for you.  I have no more desire.

Congratulate the legs who belong to another woman.  I find it disgusting and revolting anymore.

You should have aimed the sight at my temple instead of the white circle on my chest.

A romantic voice in the night, the travel-worn man are too late.

Look what that disgusting man did for entertainment.

Who do I get to go to for help with that? 

Who do I get to talk to about that?

Congratulations for my humiliation.

I hope it makes you feel like a man to humiliate a woman.

You Are Wrong

You have been wrong.

You have been more than wrong.

You forget my brain is more powerful and capable than your rules.

In your competition and scoreboard of wins and losses, you have created the destruction of history, civil rights, free-will, and the power of choice.

I do not see a black man wearing glasses, his bald head, his facial hair, or the color of his clothing.  I see a retired policeman, who has pain that he lives with nearly every day.

You have turned black men and women, different ethic backgrounds into bad people based on the color of their skin, the color of their clothing, the color of their hair.  Rather than based on their actions, harm they have done to others, or work they have done for others.

Congratulations Humiliation

I love you.

Sitting in the passenger side of his pick-up truck as he was dropping me off home late one night this is what I hear, I love you.

It’s too bad I was unaware then that is was possible to see inside another person’s brain.  How could I have known I had such an extraordinary gift?

What I saw when I heard, I love you.  I was standing with my back straight and tall with my head held dead center.  I was motionless, and my emotional pool was vacant.

He was bent over, almost cowering, looking up at me.

I knew I did not love this man.

We met while starring in Right Bed, Wrong Husband at Chief Charley’s Dinner Theater.

I knew I did not love him, however I believed at the time I was inexperienced with love.

I was not.

This is what happens when you fail to listen to yourself.

To thine own self be true. – Shakespeare

I believed the television, magazine lay outs, and happily-ever-after movies to be reality when they are nothing more than fiction.

Fairy tales are not the truth.

You think it’s going to send me into a writing fit of being wronged.  You know you are wrong, you are unrepentant.

No, I am not afraid of Michael Wayne Brown, for I would rather be dead than continue living like this.  That is hardly a victory for anyone.

It couldn’t possibly be difficult to find Michael Wayne Brown, I kept his information if I ever needed to use it.  Hopefully, you found him in the penal system, it is where he belongs.

I was seventeen when I met MWB.  If you’re looking for puzzle pieces that is why Bella Swan married at eighteen.  I would have married MWB when I was eighteen.

The first weekend I moved in with MWB, he took me to Fort DeSoto Park.  What school was he enrolled in then?  Film and television?  Editing?  Camera work?  I do not remember anymore.

Within 45 minutes of being at the park to have a party with his friends from school, MWB broke another man’s jaw with one punch.  He later pleaded No Contest.

One punch.

To me it had less to do with the man he hit and more to do with him showing me what he was capable of.

The whole time I was involved with MWB, he barely held a job, yet he always had the car.  So, I walked or took cabs.  I paid for nearly everything, he did not pay.

One taxi ride home the driver asked me when I was expecting because I was unaware I was pregnant.

Sitting on the floor of our home, the television was on, the lights were all on, I remember the color of the walls.  MWB sitting behind me holding me in his arms carrying on a conversation of baby names all to himself because what was playing in my mind were horrifying-terror filled scenes.  The one I remember most was, me with a pregnant belly and MWB throwing me down the stairs causing me harm and the death of my unborn.  Yet, there were many variations of abuse to me and my unborn baby.

This was a different time then, in the late eighties.  I did not believe that any police, agency, or persons could protect me from MWB.  Seems that still holds true.

I had an abortion.

Had I known I would never be able to have any children for the rest of my life, I would never have had an abortion.

MWB stalked me and tormented me for years.  He is a terrible man.  I guess that is why Tuesday was such a terrible night at work having to protect my own mind.

I had to file bankruptcy previously because MWB would open my mail, illegally spending money at strip clubs and elsewhere with credit cards in my name.

I remember when I first started back to college at HCC, turning off my car and scanning the horizon, the bushes, behind objects and things for MWB.  He was such a terror.  Then, I was afraid of him because I wanted to live.  I was afraid of dying.  But, there is no use pretending this life is worth living.  My death would mean nothing to anyone, so what’s the point.

The story they want me to write is the one I talked about in my head to the elder Phillips.

MWB and I were in Jamaica – I believe I paid for that trip.  Also, I told this story when I was trying to work in timeshare back in 2015 it lasted only a week.  It was their job to employ me, so I have no idea why they did not make exceptions for me.

It was their job to employ me.

Renting a motorcycle MWB and I went about Jamaica on our own.  I had been to the island a year before and still knew my way.  We brought freshly boiled lobsters back to our hotel room where MWB proceeded to make love to me into the night.

I am not interested in giving this man’s dick any more credit.

The point is he was still in love with his first wife, I believe he was using my body and making love to his first wife.

So, congratulations for humiliating me once again.

DKW knows no bounds when it comes to humiliating me.  It is his favorite pastime.

The story of my life, I am 46 years old and have yet to have a man actually fall in love with me, make love to me, and marry me for the rest of his life.

I was born to marry a man.

I was born to be loved by one man for the rest of my life.

Everything else is unimportant without the ability to love a man and be loved in return.

Congratulations on horrifying me, terrorizing me, manipulating me, humiliating me, shaming me, uglyfing me, and making me suicidal.

What a great man it takes to make a woman feel worthless.


Marriage Proposal

The reason I saw an orange shirt on one knee to a woman in a pink shirt was to shame me into exercising, so that every man that looked at me naked – WITHOUT MY CONSENT OR PERMISSION – would not have to view me with any body fat, cellulite, varicose veins, or any other unsightly hideousness.

Also, it was meant for me to then watch the movie Fifty Shades Freed.  I am not interesting in watching that movie.

I am not interested in watching bondage, or S&M, I do not find it appropriate.

There is no such marriage proposal to any man.  It is all a con and a scheme.

I do not believe.

I know men.

There is no straight man who would propose to a woman that he does not touch, speak face to face to, or have a real relationship.

No, David, no.

No James, no.

Never should have been an Edison – EVER!

For all the money in the world I never want to know of David ever again.

The tire baby is also, a no.

Both your options have expired more than four years ago.


Any man who tells me what underwear to wear can shove his own dick in his mouth and suck it.

Because you have not allowed me to have a choice on my own I am unable to change my opinion of you.

David Kahit Wolfe, you should have criminal charges filed against you for what you have done to me here.

James Franco/Edison, you should have criminal charges filed against you both for what you have done to me.


Clearly, I am not special, or I would be employed elsewhere.

Clearly, I am not extraordinary, or I wouldn’t be living here.

Clearly, I am not pretty, or I would be allowed to have a real man who I want in my life.

Clearly I am ugly and fat, or I would have been allowed to date real men all these years instead of David’s fake men.

Clearly no one wants me to feel I am worth a man’s time, or they wouldn’t have robbed me of my body.