As a cop, I had to suck everything up. Move on. Desensitize. I actually think it helped me cope with a lot of personal crisis. So for that, I am thankful. Could you imagine if I wrote down every thought I had when I was on a sinister child molester case? I wonder what was really going on inside my brain. Were the inside thoughts being beaten down by the rules? Or were my outside thoughts really how I felt?
Who knows. Who cares? Right. That's an episode for Dr. Phil.
After decompressing for a year, my feelings are starting to reappear, the shell is cracking and falling off. Heavens to Mergatroid, Gertrude Applebottom! (That's what my daughter thinks I should change my name to.) Her father actually asked me last night on the phone, "So I need to know for airline ticket purposes, what name are you going by now?" Seriously. I responded in polite tone, "Are you fucking kidding me? You are going there?" He was blushing from foolishness right through the phone and tried to justify it by saying it was a legitimate question. Strong work there, DADDIO.
Shit. Poop. Let's put those all those divorce issues back in the box as well along with the cry baby poopy pants moments.
I like my stoic self much better.
It's a Dad day. I've been thinking about him a lot. I miss him. Bug missed out on knowing him. It makes me sad.
I don't know why, but on Facebook and on here, I had to share my thoughts about the negative happenings. For those that don't follow me on Facebook, I had posted a police shooting incident and was taken down temporarily by Facebook because of a reader complaint. Here it is if you can get to the link. If not, look up and like The Boogie Man on Facebook.
Same thing occurred on my personal Facebook page, but the person complained the post I shared from Coffeypot about Hedwig, not Harry Potter's owl, and that the post had inappropriate nudity. It was a picture of her in 1933s cinema blockbuster, King Kong. Geesh. The story, not the partial nudity pic is here:
Here's what I think of being reported to Facebook Police, compliments of Dad, circa 1970s.
Put your big girl panties on.
Speaking of big girl panties, mine are on. I will not let life's spit balls, road bumps, pimples, potholes, or whatever you call them defeat me! I'm Ok now. SUPERSTAH!