I’ve seen this show before. Despite all my pain and suffering at the hands of these people invoking family only when they want something, an affront to their dignity to ever ask them to do anything, because I worked hard and became a doctor, with no help from my parents or them, despite having lost everything I ever had for family, including my health, and even though your true believer never managed to get around to helping me with a few hundred a month I’d asked as condition of signing the house over, I’m supposed to let him piss in my face show leadership and service him anyway.
Mamma’s Memory Is Not Blessed
Going to piss in my face about I don’t keep my word of signing the house over when I told your true believer when he came flying in as sheik of Araby the time before that I was just asking a few hundred every month until I could get out. Your true believer could remember the yes, I’ll sign it over part, but can’t remember the if you to make it happen. Such a piece of shit, he can’t remember anything he doesn’t want to hear. Your true believer claims to remember Dada who had his heart attack to become senile chasing the little rat bastard because he was refusing to do something he was told, but doesn’t remember me. Or Shahid whose wife made his father kick the little piece of family shit out. Time and again, your true believer’s been given ample opportunity in a variety of settings and has refused to show any honor integrity or good character. My parents tried to teach your true believer values, and failed.
With his She’s my mom. religious belief, he can’t comprehend that my life and business that I’d worked so hard for was pissed down the tubes at $3000 a month with a $20K down-payment to move momma and Dada to Houston, 12K to make the house ready that I rushed into without handling the purchase properly because I was paying over $1200 a week for 24/7 agency nursing after they got kicked out of the retirement home for Dada’s night-time senile wandering. Me sleeping on the floor in my home office while they were living in my bedroom. Given that your true believer’s social-promotion semi-retarded, he could have had somebody intelligent do a few internet searches to verify that these numbers are actually low for the issue.
I even had my accountant go over the numbers with momma before I did it. I should have made her give me durable power of attorney and sign a contract as he suggested, as I had the sense to require when they were trying to foist the little rat bastard off on me when he was a baby. As with your true believer, only under the direst circumstance, with a heap of chasing and begging would she chump me some money, a regular project to beg from her every month. That while she was hoarding her money and paying their bills in Tulsa and couldn’t give a rat’s-assed damn about what she was doing to me. Little piece of shit rat bastard going to spray this shit in my face about I drained all momma’s resources when the bitch didn’t even need to go into her CDs, but just pass through the social security and we’d have been fine and wouldn’t do it.
Should Have Known Better
I should have known better. Rank bitch wouldn’t fill out the student loan papers worried about medical school asking them for some money when doctors and lawyers kids were getting financial aid. I had to take shark loans in medical school, typical 13K owed on $2500. Couldn’t help me get my car fixed in D.C. with $1300 so I ended up losing the car. Nevertheless, I’m the one being called at three o’clock in the morning with that ‘Your Daddy’s standing in the door and won’t come to bed, what are YOU going to do about it?’ This, while their bitch-ass daughter was a mile away living off them free.
Momma’s memory is not blessed.
I was in a tax moratorium when I did that dumb-ass moving momma and Dada to Houston project and I’m still looking up at least $250K in penalties and interest. The last time I talked to the IRS, they laughed at me and told me I needed to get back to making over $250K a year to hope to pay it back within my lifetime. Momma wouldn’t even front me 3K to do a fellowship in Florida after I passed the written boards in 1994, trying to recover from that private nursing home project.
Hurry Up and Die
It was this lying-as-he-breathes piece of shit rat bastard’s tone and what your true believer was saying that reminded of how he was talking to momma when I cussed him out when visiting. Telling momma, yes, that she needed to hurry up and die and get out of their way. Just like your true believer’s telling me I need to move on with my life and he wants houses and children and pissing down on me about how he doesn’t understand why I’m such a bad person that I screwed up my life. Such a dim-witted piece of shit he believes that house belongs to his lying and thieving mom the same as he participated in and defends stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down from Ricci Hendrix’s house because Ricci thought she ought to pay her own utilities while living there free. House so hoarders trashed up it couldn’t be shown for sale, the premise of her being able to stay there. That just shows how depraved and psychotic they are. Anytime anyone tells them they’re responsible for anything beyond taking, they’re being ‘not fair’ persecuted.
Regardless of mom excuses, your true believer – that person, is a complete piece of shit, is rotten in its heart. He doesn’t have any capacity for compassion for anyone. What kind of low piece of shit, aside from the verbal abuse, participates in denying momma food and water so that she had to call a neighbor while these people are living in her house free? Momma drinking sour meals on wheels milk out of a dorm refrigerator that’s not cooling in her own house and can’t use her own kitchen and refrigerator while these scummy people entitled as family are paying no bills. Went to school if and when he felt like it, into a truancy issue for being late – between classes. ‘Not fair’ persecuted by being expected to do homework like everybody else. Your true believer was managing to screw and smoke reefer, needed to be saved from Juvie, all but joined the Crips, but can’t bring a drink of water? A kind word? Be human? It’s not in your true believer anywhere.
While living with me and momma your true believer refused to do anything to help while lying into my face time and again, staying up all night in an old woman’s bedroom to make its pious dawn prayer, its ‘good works,’ then sleep all day until it’s time to go play Smoking-Reefer. Until put out of its reefer friend’s house like Dino the Flintstones dog because some people have to go to work, just like your true believer’s mom stayed in the mall until put out by security, pushing a stroller. I even offered the rat bastard my TV and he refused to stop. Aside from never helping, momma whipped my ass all the next day because she was tired.
They can claim all the religion they want, like momma telling me that ‘You were a good son to me.’ while she was dying; tried to give me your true believer’s ‘Who Loves?’ when she finally realized she was going to die without the little rat bastard piece of shit bothering to call. Clutching the phone I had to disable the dialing because she’d call 911 if I didn’t come within a few minutes. Dogged me all my life, and I’m supposed to believe you now? Save it for whomever whenever wherever.
No, momma’s memory is not blessed.
He’s My Grandson
Momma threw my back out by passive-aggressive clutching the rail while I was trying to turn her over while asking her to talk to your true believer, that maybe coming from her it would be received differently. In other words, ‘Fuck you, kiss his ass and fix him a plate, he’s my grandson.’ Momma couldn’t give a rat’s-assed damn about what she was doing to me on their behalf at any point in history. Only she knows how all that’s working out for her wherever. Trust me. Momma’s memory is not blessed.
They’re entitled by Birthright, not that they ever did any act of kindness to anyone in the family. Time and again, whenever I asked your true believer or the mom for any kind of help, and we’re not talking money, it was an automatic no. For months your true believer was supposed to help me start taking stuff out of my storage every day, then the next, then the next, then like November, he leaves me hanging at the last minute. Their phone numbers were a secret in case they might be called for help – until they think they’re going to get something like a house for the pain and suffering of being pushed out of a vagina. Purely because the mom managed to drop out of momma’s uterus, and your true believer out of hers, their only accomplishments in life, entitles them as family.
Just like momma was obligated to pay all their bills and let them stay in her house while they were abusing her, Ricci Hendrix was obligated to pay all their bills for letting them stay in his house. As they extended this madness to just a friend, their ‘not fair’ persecuted if ever asked to do anything delusion is their deeply held and psychotic religious belief. I’d offered the bitch half the proceeds of the house if she’d help me sell it, before momma died. No, I just need to ‘deliver.’
Like your true believer, she probably remembers the ‘half,’ but can’t recall the ‘if,’ a violation of their religion to ever ask or expect them to do anything. This bitch blocked me at every turn while trying to get out of that hell by people she’d whined ‘not fair’ to. Then, just like I’d planned to give her a lot of really nice kitchen stuff that was in my storage, she harmed herself by harming me. Too stupid to be family when it’s in her own interest, just like your true believer special-needs’ ass. And momma who was ashamed of being a white man’s bastard, then proved it true by not knowing how to be family. Ended up signing onto their deluded ‘not fair’ persecuted if ever asked to do anything version that she’s taken with her into eternity. No, momma’s memory is definitely not blessed.
Try to imagine the impact for momma of his decision not to call, who ruined my life supposedly on his behalf. Then had me do that trust trying to get her out of a clearly abusive situation with a ridiculous provision that I’m supposed to take care of them the rest of their lives as retards. That the Bank of Oklahoma wouldn’t sign onto, rightly. Then dogged me with that he’s my grandson while I’m wiping shit stinking so bad a gas mask didn’t help for five solid years with no help or pay. Never a break. Even when ‘Respite’ people came she found some reason that they needed to keep me from sleeping – once a month. Me and the dog getting fat from cooking at least three meals a day under‘What else is available?’ Not at all.
And this low piece of shit couldn’t find it within himself to call her just once in five months? Momma’s grandson definitely made her proud, outdid itself. Your true believer’s never demonstrated any compassion for anyone under any circumstance to this day. Even she had to admit by the time she died that her grandson, your true believer is and will always be a piece of shit. Forgetaboutit.
Save the Boy
Dada’s last words were ‘Save the Boy,’ and I tried to honor his request. The reason I had a three bedroom townhouse in 1993 – 1998 is that I was offering for your true believer to come at least for the summers. No. She didn’t want her piece of shit corrupted with ‘values.’ I then tracked Shahid down who had cut him off for parroting her delusions every time he tried to talk to ‘the boy’ to ask him to take the bastard and I’d help him do it. Momma disagreed, felt like because ‘she’s his mom,’ it would be wrong to try to get ‘the boy’ to Shahid, would lie on her behalf.
Then when ‘the boy’ was old enough to decide on his own, already too late, he turned Shahid down because he did whatever he wanted with her, smoke reefer screw and be a juvenile delinquent lite. Your true believer’s still everything lite. This while the mom treated him like a mouth-kissing boyfriend, had to break-up whenever a man came around. Too dense to go to a four year college as an ‘afleet,’ your true believer’s devoted mom talked him out of taking a junior college athletic scholarship to ‘keep company.’ Ruined his face with a non-Plastic Surgeon that I told them they shouldn’t let operate on his face. Then she gets to piss into my face to this bone-shaker D.O. barely-beyond-optometrist with He used to be a doctor. She just wanted to keep him in Tulsa so she didn’t give-a-shit that his face was going to be fucked up, as I warned.
They’re the Same Piece of Shit
Your true believer’s mom is a psychotic nut-job, but that doesn’t make him a good person, human. He’s never demonstrated any compassion for anyone to this day. Both of them are a piece of shit, fused at the hip. They sent her to D.C. to work as a stewardess as though I could be a positive influence while I was in my residency. I told them by 25, it is what it is when according to psychologists it’s five to seven, and definitely too late after adolescence. Romney was and is a bully and just learned to do it legally. She didn’t care that I could lose my residency by being late for rounds behind driving her to Baltimore or Dulles for her to sleep ten extra minutes. That little rat bastard was fixed in cement as a piece of shit long before I came back to Tulsa.
I was living with somebody in an efficiency neat and clean in the same building and you couldn’t walk across her floor without playing Twister. Same with your true believer when living with me and momma, needed a gold star and a kiss on the ass for putting his plate in the sink while leaving the glass he was drinking from by the chair. Shahid, whose wife made him kick the sorry rat bastard out, euphemistically told him that he has no ‘work ethic.’ ‘Not fair’ pissed for persecution with me the same as Shahid for putting family out. They’re all about family when they want something, but asking anything of them is against their religion. She created this ‘no-work-ethic’ monster and is then complaining when she finally has a place she agrees she’s responsible for, and he wouldn’t do anything to help there either.
She doesn’t have a shred of humanity in her anywhere, and the point here is that neither does he. There’s nothing anybody or any thing can ever do to change that they’re both rotten inside. She needs someone, anyone to believe she’s not just a total piece of shit, as does your true believer. People in Tulsa know how she, as well as your true believer, treated momma. Child protective services threatening to take him because she was ‘too good’ to change a diaper. What kind of wonderful mom can’t change her own piece of shit’s diaper? As with your true believer’s buying peanut butter in response to being asked to help when living there with me and momma, the mom just brought him earlier for momma and Dada to wipe his ass for her. Shahid did it alternating with momma and Dada before he pulled out and then they had to take it all over. Little piece of shit has these fantasies about how devoted she was but she not only refused to be a parent, she didn’t want anybody else – momma Dada Shahid me coaches teachers or anybody else parenting him either.
The context of the trust I did in 1995 was trying to get momma out of their Adult Protective Services monitored abuse. Social workers and police were thrilled that I might be able to do something about it but momma blocked me by threatening to revoke the trust as she repeatedly blocked them. By now, your true believer’s made a conscious choice to be the same kind of low piece of shit she is. It’s not like he doesn’t know of and hasn’t seen the alternative. Every crackhead’s offspring doesn’t aspire to the tradition.
Pretend and Sound Sincere
The little rancid piece of shit’s word has never meant anything. Your true believer is her shitty little product of conception in the on birth control and would convert to Islam deception and as she has no honor or character, he wants to pretend and sound sincere, as long as you don’t expect the bastard to actually do anything. If he’s pressed, as a third ten-pound box, he gets pissed and flies into a rage.
The little rat bastard piece of shit came over under the pretense of coming to help me do the audit the IRS was asking to get the levy lifted off of momma while we were subsisting on $1000/mo, half a month in her medicines. Then I stood there and watched him intentionally wreck my only chair after five hours of ‘checking my email’ when I finally had to tell him beyond asking to stop so I could get it done and turn the thing in before midnight as I’d promised the IRS. I had to wobble in that chair as a constant reminder of what a piece of shit your true believer is for the next ten years for the lack of $30 to buy the part to fix it.
Your true believer knows that other people don’t act like that, going into a sissy-fit and stomping his feet and whining after being asked to pick up a third ten pound box while my back was out – with nerve compression. Dragged a box across the top of my car because its mom asked him to carry a box. Your true believer’s lazy to the bone as a ‘She’s my mom.’ no-work religious value.
School teacher late for work every day, your true believer bumming rides to get to school from the same neighbor across the street, the bus an impossibility to imagine. I was out there at the corner of 28th and Lewis at 5 o’clock every morning to get to Central band practice. I went to the top college in the country on full scholarship, then worked three part-time jobs for spending money, went through medical school with no help whatsoever. Then it’s as though all my accomplishments in life were at their expense. Instead of my success being a benefit to lift up the family, I needed to be denied any assistance in life, to be ‘fair.’
As momma wasted mine listening to her, your true believer’s mom wasted ‘the boy’s‘ because he couldn’t listen to anyone else. I tried to tell momma’s grandson what it’s about at various points, and it’d just run back to the mom and suck that floppy tit while professing undying fealty. Just like its straggly unkempt beard as proof of Islamic piety, your true believer has to lean into her ‘not fair,’ field-Negro persecuted if ever asked to do anything delusion as somehow right. That he’s not seeing what she’s really about every time he dares to look in the mirror.
I understand When you can’t trust your own mother.… At the same time, that doesn’t excuse the kind of piece of shit momma’s grandson’s decided to be. I’ve been wrong for over-doing do the right thing, and your true believer has none of it at all. The little piece of shit is completely selfish and doesn’t have a soul – of compassion for anything or anybody. And most importantly, never will. Kindness, integrity isn’t there, at all. None of it. He’s an unmitigated piece of shit, beyond even his mom’s greatest aspirations. At least she’s vaguely aware of the issue while addicted to that ‘not fair’ delusion so can’t help herself. Your true believer’s dim-witted, clueless, and has no honor.
She’s My Mom Religion
That your true believer’s been operating from ‘She’s my mom.’ religion explains everything. He doesn’t intend to learn anything if it doesn’t jibe with her no-work-ethic, ‘not fair’ persecuted if ever asked to do anything. It was a religious principle not to call momma because his mom wouldn’t have ever known. Which also explains why your true believer couldn’t give-a-shit that I was dying there, as you of all people could have attested. You forgot about all that apparently. Or I exaggerated perhaps. Or even lied, need to account for what your true believer said to momma while living there with its mom. That matters when ‘the boy’ has been a complete piece of shit to this day? Screwed me into the wall just a few months ago — apparently doesn’t matter.
Just the fact that this shithead who’d be glad if I was as dead as Zarif the father would have been (was — which doesn’t matter) received positively were it not for Zarif the son says it all. Done and done. How would I know ‘why’ the little piece of shit didn’t call? Importantly, what difference could it possibly make? What lame-assed excuse is supposed to work for that beyond he’s a twenty-something rat bastard with no character or honor and sucking that ‘She’s my mom.’ titty like he was nursing standing up with a full set of teeth in his head when he had to wean itself? A witless vassal of a monarch, your true believer certainly wasn’t incommunicado in some terrorist training camp. None would have been needed if he had any character or integrity.
I didn’t grasp the implications of that ‘felt sad for that man’ and the context of questioning my veracity with that ‘you don’t seem to be the kind of person that lies, but…’ grasping at straws of excuses that your true believer was young and under the moms’ influence about when he said what to momma until I thought about it later. After all, despite all you know, he’s been cool with you, helped Mumtaz move. No matter that he wouldn’t help me save hundreds of thousands of dollars in my storage, my stereo, art glass, and kitchen stuff alone worth more than that house – when it was in good condition. That, not to disturb her K-Mart, junkyard, and 1950s aluminum trash stolen from Ricci Hendrix. No matter that having had to beg your pious true believer over these past four years, he leaves me hanging at the last minute, again. Within a year.
I’ve expected her to eventually get religious because like momma, she’s going to be afraid to die and have to account for all the rotten chicken-shit she did in her life, will need to be saved by grace. She probably has a vague idea that there might be some issues even with all her psychotic delusions intact. Just like she wanted me to lose my residency to chauffeur her around, every friend she’s ever had is eventually placed in a ridiculous position to show their willingness to sacrifice themselves for her. There’s not a single age-appropriate person that will touch that bitch with a stick in Tulsa. All she has left is tired old women who’ve got to be dying and passing senile by now, who are just happy to have anybody still talking to them while she calls them her real mother. Old dogs whose own children don’t bother.
She’ll need to find something to haunt, somebody’s air to stink up with her foul stench. Telling me she ‘wants to spend more time with her family, and survey her stuff’ that I’m supposed to have been storing for her over ten plus estranged years. If I’d let the rank stank bitch in, it would have only been for some melodrama. Anybody sick and twisted enough to think Ricci Hendrix owed her for letting her stay in his house is just bad news coming, always. Just like him, she comes with a pretense of good will, but soon enough, goes left into crazy; just can’t help it. Just as she presses all her relationships to failure, so does your true believer, refuses to learn from being repeatedly put out everywhere he’s been.
Such a dumb-ass, the idiot thinks I’m still messing with him after I hang up in his face and cuss his shitty imbecilic ass out. She’s always been and will be a sick piece of shit, and your true believer’s exactly the same. Just that you want to pretend that they’re separate people and wanted to deal with them notwithstanding all I’ve said except for Zarif, reflects either a lack of understanding or denial in desperation. Or just don’t care. Like Norman Bates of Psycho, your true believer is her. With no separate identity stuck in the oral phase of child development, he’s always going to be under her influence.
Religion doesn’t change anybody, but gives a context for some to pursue the Good and others as absolution for say-do-whatever. Your true believer’s a walking poster-boy for religion doesn’t change people, with all this Islam he parrots. The only reason she would go to a Jumu’ah or whatever, is to get sympathy as righteous victim from Shakir, Kabane, or you. In the end, she’s going to have to settle on that saved by grace, works not an option. O right, went to a Jumu’ah, dawn ‘prayer.’
Duty to Mitigate Damages
I determined before momma died that my relationship to them as family died with her. That’s why my will leaves the house to the State of Oklahoma if nobody else wants it. As the mom refused to come to momma’s burial, your true believer’s decision not to call momma while she was dying cut it with me. I have no illusions that the little piece of shit only came slinking around FIVE years after momma died to try to get his moms’ house back. I engaged it in a duty to mitigate damages, helped its mom as compensation for whatever weak assistance it’d managed to extend on consideration.
Try to imagine that as selfish and wretched a bastard as momma was, despite not being capable of ever having any compassion for my suffering, that didn’t mean that I didn’t have compassion for hers — my character flaw. In do the right thing, from our poverty we paid her grandson’s ATT long distance to keep the phone number and I emailed calling card numbers. Yes, I emailed him several times. If your true believer had a shred of humanity in there anywhere, it’d have called. She and Dada were the only people that loved its rank and shitty little rat bastard ass, except perhaps Shahid. ‘The boy’ couldn’t have been kind to momma if it were in it? Be human and call her just one time as she was dying? Your true believer is a complete piece of shit and always will be. Just like the mom is a hopeless piece of shit forty years after I was supposed to be a positive influence, that will never change.
Your true believer was a rat bastard living with Shahid while grown, living with me and momma, then since he came back into the picture trying to get the house. To this day. That the little piece of shit believes its moms’ delusions explains everything. I was done with the mom, regardless of anything your true believer advanced on interest when the bitch turned around and tried to sue me for the house after I pulled it out of the unnecessary back surgery fire with my dumb-ass do the right thing. Just like I should have let momma’s ratty scared-to-die lying ass hang in Houston and doing the right thing extended her life by years, only I’d have known. I should have let her go ‘to her reward’ years before she did. I should have let your true believer’s mom get unnecessary back-surgery cut-wrecked and be in pain the rest of its life.
My Suffering Is Imaginary
My suffering is imaginary. By your disagree with my attitude about family and fellow Muslims cannot be judged, I heard you loud and clear that my pain losses and suffering, the hell I’m still in are as nothing. So fortunate and blessed to become a doctor with no help from any family, living or dead, obviously, I can afford from my vast skills in need plenty to forgive them wrecking my health and everything else. Inevitably, because I’ll never go back to live in Tulsa, I’ll need to be generous and forgiving of shitty people who’ve never had a shred of compassion for anyone in their lives, family or otherwise. Your true believer says, I should show leadership and kiss its ass, as though ruining my life for family wasn’t.
I’m impressed that permanently thumping on the death from hypertensive kidney-failure door, worried that having to take a piss every few minutes here is going to become an issue, another fourteen years of my life gone, no house, no children, no wife, no love, five years in Pet Cemetery, another nine in the deepest poverty in redneck hell, everything I’d owned and worked for, my practice and health, still with no contract or income, looking up at an insurmountable mountain of IRS penalties and interest, that piece of runny pig shit gets your sympathy. Brilliant.
When kidneys go, it doesn’t get better, only worse. Still a doctor by the skin of my teeth, I know my health took a heavy hit from that MaxLend costing me $600 a month on a $275 loan because my fingernail-bed changed but I haven’t had the nerve to check the numbers yet. Now, third 5K promissory note signed, I’ll need to pay back 15K and counting, still in an extended care. How badly you feel for that poor poor man that jacked me into the ground just this past November when I can get a transplant, maybe.
That bad (doesn’t want to hear the make business opportunity) Zarif exaggerating what a rank absolute rat bastard it is. As per routine, dealing with them at all means accepting their delusions as facts. Just like talking to Zionists, you have to accept their finders-keepers, no right of return and intent to keep taking into the depths of time as justice. As well, they’re apparently right that all you have to do is say make business and all ‘injustices’ are forgiven.
With no thought process, your true believer doesn’t have any make business ideas. Talking about starting a doctor recruiting business with no money when there are hundreds of businesses that have already been doing that for decades. Those he claims as mentors want to pay a third less than the standard to find a man who’s wife doesn’t mind wearing a burqa and not driving while making the same rates as Board Certified in the United States. They’re offering an opportunity to recruit and for doing the footwork and labor it can have two-thirds. Then he’s turning around with the same intent not to have to actually do anything — beyond slinking around talking about ‘you can have a cut;‘ its idiotic make business plan.
When I thought it was making a web site your true believer wanted, no problem, but they already have a very nice web site. He couldn’t ever answer what he actually wanted me to do beyond I can have a cut. What the little idiot apparently wanted is that I’m going to go trolling for doctors with no money during the day while I need to be answering calls in my minimum wage job, choking to death on mold and destitute. Dumb-ass talking about getting free advertising in medical publications that it could have contacted as well as me. Everybody needs money and no medical society or publication is posting free ads as though money isn’t involved. But because I owe the little piece of shit rat bastard, I’m going to magically make all this happen from my indebtedness. He couldn’t listen to how the business works, or any ideas about how to make it work specific to that situation. All your true believer could think is that ‘you owe’ for a few piss-ant hundred dollars, less than the Chicago people advanced on interest.
So we’re going to make business, your true believer trying to claim on my medical knowledge; with the gall to pretend to be some sort of medical recruiting consultant on LinkedIn. I doubt those people he’s talking to believe you can start any sort of business with no money. Just like I had to take its little grammar test to get its English as a second language job, he’s going to sit there with his mouth hanging open while I git ‘er done. Can’t hear when it involves him doing anything, like I told him to clarify the scope of work and the business plan as a starting point (since he couldn’t listen to anything I was saying). Like his mom wanting money from the house, just make it happen, you owe. Deliver.
Apparently, the make business your true believer was he talking about is that Tom-Sawyer whitewash my medical-recruiting business fence for free and I’ll give you a cut if you score a recruit. She hasn’t been working for years, why not have her do it? Especially if no prior experience or thought is required as is the case with this illiterate special needs ignoramus. The reason the dumb-ass came after you Mumtaz and Zarif is he needs to prove he’s doing family a favor by giving an opportunity to do all the work and deliver a doctor while he does nothing beyond has the EuroSynapsis connection.
Why pay him when Google still works? Just deal with them directly, it’s not like this special needs idiot teaching English that doesn’t know grammar invented the idea. Your true believer has another of its moms’ delusions that he’s intelligent, but that would be too much like work. By way of illustration, as usual, I talk too much, but am reassured and relieved that he can’t remember anything I said while trying to be constructive because the little piece of shit’s Maybe he’s telling me something I ought to do. would filter everything out. Your true believer can’t fathom the idea of actually needing to do anything beyond talking that ‘you can have a cut;’ consultant indeed. ‘Professor’ without a Master’s degree indeed.
Honor and Integrity
I was blessed by the kindness of strangers when my engine block froze and knocked a freeze-plug out and trashed my water pump this winter. That understanding from Dada while in the garage working on my car laying on the frozen ground, fifty dollars to manage a four-hundred dollar repair, was an important milestone in my cosmological understanding. He approved that I denounced the lying rat bastard for leaving me hanging in November. And he waited on momma’s rank stank lying ass. If there’s honor in my born family, it was from him.
Dada is aware of how they treated momma, and doesn’t want these assholes to get the house. It was he who reminded me of all that history I’d put aside in the hope that your true believer would come through. Not out of compassion of which I know he’s incapable, but by it being a really good deal. Most would understand that a few hundred a few months until I could get out for a house is reasonable, but your true believer couldn’t because he believes her ‘not fair’ delusion that I owe them.
Everything I’ve ever done doesn’t count, moving momma and Dada to Houston to lose my practice and end up in locum tenens hell for ten years then five years of 24/7 care-giving without a sliver of aid or respite. Stuck in the deepest hell of poverty for another nine. In kidney failure from hypertension. Your true believer’s been coming and going and doing what he wants since a child, walking around with hair between its legs two-thirds of his life and over thirty these past few years that you of all people would know I’ve literally been on the brink of death.
Now I understand why Shakir called to check on me after he’d helped me out. It was probably your true believer writing that shit on my car, already in town before I left. Has money to jet all over the place at a whim, but I need to sign the house over for a piss-ant year of taxes. I, ever naive, mentioned to Shakir, not making the connection to your true believer, that you don’t agree with me about family, then ‘Whoops, here it is.’ You’ve decided they’re deserving of your cannot be judged compassion. Your prerogative if not necessity to believe Islam, religion, does something, we all have Free Will.
Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Blood is thicker than water. It’s apparent that you want(ed) to deal with them by your interest in doctor recruiting while trying to manufacture rationales that he’s not just a completely hopeless rank stank rat bastard piece of shit. Ya, I inhaled once upon a time, and didn’t miss a beat. Weed is a weakest of excuses for being an asshole. Religion works far better. I more believe in karma than this saved from say-do-whatever by wafers and wine or ablutions or mikvah delusion. Or sanctified into a cannot be judged by going to a Jumu’ah. How wonderful.
You say I need to be careful imagining that as a human being, I might be entitled to some small compensation for working for momma for no pay 24/7 for five solid years. It’s just normal in families to do that with no expectation of any sort of recompense or aid whatsoever, with no support system from family. I’ve been so fortunate and blessed, the same as I was flushed down the toilet in 1990, I can take it, no problem. After all, I’m an independently wealthy doctor with no help from any family living or dead, resources infinite, my reward in Valhalla.
While I hadn’t considered him as representative of Islam, for better or worse, I do regard you that way. While I’ve been fantasizing about how I’m going to be able to help you out when I get money, I was deeply saddened that you’ve sacrificed my friendship for this little rat bastard that threatened to beat me with a chair when I finally had to ask him to leave, has talked all this rank shit to me and threatened me again. While I’m still mourning my dogs that kept me alive, whose lives were of no moment to you, still staggering around so weak I seem to be drunk. Doesn’t matter.
You’ve schooled me that none of my do the right thing matters to most if not all, just another story to be thrice checked, to affirm that I haven’t exaggerated defamed or lied, to be cannot be judged — neutral about. Aware of everything, witness to my pain, your feeling sorry for that piece of shit asshole and that they went to a Jumu’ah matters to you has to matter then to me. Certainly, you’ve made the case that Us sticking together is more important than justice for Them, misguided to think otherwise. Whether they’re true believers, I’m certainly not.
There’s no question that these assholes would be glad if I were dead so that they could claim as family heirs to get that dust-bowl house in the middle of nowhere. Beyond that I wouldn’t piss on them if they were on fire, I’d consider it a blessing if they were. Beyond not wishing them well, I’ve blessed your true believer’s children’s children to the fourth generation, my fervent prayer that they be the same as they are. If perchance I’m wrong about them, well and good, no harm no foul.
Just like it was a religious principle not to call momma, it’s now a religious principle within me to refrain from ever saying or doing anything that might accrue to their benefit, directly or indirectly. Whether they will ever have any value on any level to anybody under any circumstance, it is you who’ve been care less.
All of a Sudden All, Just Today
Thankfully, all my paperwork came through, just today. The malpractice carrier approved covering me, the DPS gave me my license, the DEA application has been sent, the psychologist is sending them the letter (as of my follow-up visit yesterday) that I’m not on drugs or crazy, and they approved fronting the CME I wanted to do albeit I’ll be reimbursing, as well as approved me revamping their electronic health records system to develop some of the things I talked to you about as ideas. I will be on schedule to re-pass the boards by next summer.
Your true believer claims somebody bought the house. In addition, today I found out it’s been burglarized, everything of value stolen, and vandalized. Burglars don’t trash beyond looking for things of value; your true believer did this.
It may have seemed that all this talking here is about them, but it’s not at all. I can’t tell anyone how to think or feel, who to have compassion for and who not. What I know is that you are not a friend, but as you said to hear that you didn’t care what happened to Zarif but just need money. It isn’t that you told me they came to Atlanta, but like those people in Chicago in breaking by a saying, that ‘went to a Jumu-ah! and cannot be judged.’
What’s done is done, no need to pretend and sound sincere. You might as well deal with them. That I’ve lived and lost my life and health in do the right thing is inconsequential to my being a haughty and assimilated infidel, another Jew undeserving of compassion for imaginary suffering. Now, you can be magnanimous on my behalf to these people who’ve had the hardest of hearts with respect to repeated entreaties for aid over the course of all history.
Déjà vu All Over Again
Yes, déjà vu all over again, I’ve most definitely seen this show before. As Dada thought, I have everything I could possibly ever need forever, and anything I have, even from the sweat of my own brow, should be gifted to those ‘less fortunate.’ Same as I had to take the moms’ beatings as the Jew in the family when we were children, I’m supposed to be a willing martyr ‘to be fair’ to people with less honor than the plague clinging to rat fleas. Scum who’ve never had a moment of compassion for anyone under any circumstance. I should give more than Bishop Myriel’s candlesticks in Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, but my actual life, my health to an early death. The would-be lifeguard that allows themselves to be drowned while trying to save family.
The deeper significance as I believe in providence, at long last, I’ve arrived at the wisdom of loving myself enough to refrain from Compassion for the Suffering of Amalekites with compassion for no one but themselves. That’s great progress for me, and I thank you sincerely. As I told you, I’d struggled going to multiple therapists about my character flaw in do the right thing to the fault of devaluing self-preservation.
Finally, doing the right thing includes having compassion for my, our own suffering.
The blood of compassion is thicker than water.