Au contraire

You stand there, a picture of righteous indignation, and protest that I am “ruining your life”.

Allow me to retort.

You went home to your nine-months-plus-pregnant wife at five o’clock this morning, after pub-crawling all night.

Thirty minutes after getting to bed, your offspring decided — as is Mama Nature’s prerogative — to begin the whole “Hello, World!” thing; necessitating your wife (being the pregnant one, and all that) waking you up with the Time Honoured News that it was time to go to the hospital.

According to statements from residents of the four adjoining apartments, your response was to bellow — and do let me quote — “You [deleted][deleted], how could you [deleted] do this to me?!”

Seeing as how your wife was going into labour, you pretty much had to know this was coming for a least a month or two.

Anyhoo, again according to witnesses, you followed up this wonderful display by flinging the car keys out of the window of your second-floor apartment into the parking lot, where they went Goddess-only-knows-where.

While your wife tried to find the keys to your family’s only means of transportation to the hospital (have I touched upon the whole going-into-labour bit?) you went to the bathroom, where you consumed the contents of a bottle of Tylenol PM; a bottle of melatonin; a bottle of prenatal vitamins and six Sudafed — and this is the truly heroic bit — washing them all down with half of a bottle of Listerine.

Dude … Listerine?

Apparently being somewhat of an over-achiever, you then proceeded to pound upon several doors in the apartment complex, demanding that the inhabitants there-of — and, please, allow me to paraphrase — “Shoot you and put you out of your misery”.

Unfortunately, no one stepped up to do society a favour, and you wound up — unventilated, damn it — back at your apartment, beating your head on the door and wailing at the top of your lungs to an uncaring Fate, until your complex manager — for the sake of peace and quiet — informed you that your father-in-law had taken his Baby Girl to the hospital.

By-the-by, your wife’s loving father has tried to post your bail. Four times. Apropos of nothing, if I were you, I’d meditate on the fact that the weather in Outer Mongolia is absolutely splendid this time of year.

I’m just saying, is all.

Somehow you managed to find the car keys that you had previously chucked into the parking lot, and proceeded to drive your hung-over, buzzing, yet fresh-breathed self to the hospital to demand the whereabouts of your wife.

I’m sure that you are correct and that your in-laws did arrange for your wife’s admission to be kept confidential, however, the proper way to deal with this is not to sit down on the floor in front of the Admissions Desk and continually bellow your spouse’s name.

I’m guessing that you have figured out all on your ownsome that flinging yourself onto your side when Hospital Security arrives and kicking your legs in a circle, while shrieking at the top of your lungs is also not a wise response.

I’d dearly like tell you that the sentence in the Security Incident Form that reads, “… forcing us to deploy PepperFoam and our flashlights to gain compliance …” doesn’t make me giggle like a school-girl — but I’d be lying.


So. Here you are, sniveling that if we don’t let you go attend the birth of your child, we’re going to Ruin Your Life.

*scratch, scratch*

Old cock, I think you’ve already got that part sewn up quite nicely.

You’ll be out of here in four hours — if you’re sober. Shut your mush and go to sleep.



The Bourne Syndrome
Apropos of nothing ...

44 thoughts on “Au contraire”

  1. My goal for this month (year? life?) is to realize that I cannot fix people’s personality disorders. The best I can do is not let them get to me.

    Good story. Keep ’em coming.

  2. I think I may have taken care of that guy last week or at the very least someone just like him

  3. The sad part is that the upside of letting this mouthbreathing, troglyoditic excuse for a six-foot walking sphincter loose again is that it will give him an opportunity to correct the gross genetic malfunction of his already having reproduced. And from the sounds of it, he’ll do in the mother too. I feel bad, but if her judgment is so poor that she’d actually carry this misbegotten, ugly bag of mostly water’s offspring, it’s probably best if she doesn’t get another chance at reproduction either.

    This asshat is as clear a justification for retroactive abortion as I’ve ever seen.

    Don’t mind me, it’s late and I’ve been grading papers all day.

  4. Anybody else get the idea this specimen of modern maturity stopped aging mentally at about three, maybe four years old? I mean, lying on the floor and kicking in circles? Really?

  5. It’s always the random, no context, out-of-the-blue ones that leave me rolling. You owe me a keyboard, or would but for he fact that there’s a youngin’ involved. Much less one with a “father” like that.

  6. If he keeps putting the stuff you described in his system together, he might not last long enough for his wife to divoce him. When drunks throw up, there’s a reason for it. Your body is trying to tell you something. Asprin and alcohol together, or even exceeding asprin doseages is asking for fatal consequences. You’ve only got 1 liver.

    Let me guess, you’re law dog because you keep a shield in your wallet, right? The bozo you’re talking to isn’t the same is he?

  7. Dear Lord, the mess that poor child is being born into! I hope the in-laws have strong morals and enough temerity to be there when daughter and fiend bail on the kid.

  8. Tylenol + alcohol = destroyed liver. I recommend it for this guy.

    Ky Person

  9. Sigh…..

    Another chapter in ‘dealing with the dregs…..’

    There is something wrong with a society that allows, encourages, such a specimen to survive and thrive. I’m sorry you have to deal with such.

  10. Just more sad evidence of the grand conondrum; that one needs a license to fish – but not to spawn.

  11. Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. I think some of his genetic specimens have made it to my school…. poor kids.

  12. I once watched a physician inform a 17 year old tantum-thrower that he’d committed suicide.

    The death wouldn’t come for another week or two, but the full bottle of Tylenol (acetaminophen, or paracetamol to those who favour the British version), had destroyed the lad’s liver. No transplant would be forthcoming. Congratulations, you not only succeeded in your suicidal quest, but you still have time to say your goodbyes and make your apologies for the pain you’ve caused.

    In this story, I think it’s a darn shame the father wasn’t allowed to throw bail for the sperm donor. With an uncle and/or brother or three waiting outside, a full tank of gas, and some time to kill, I think they could have made sure the fellow took a long vacation and never came back.

    Shame you’re so far from alligator country, ‘Dog. Surely y’all have some hog farms, though?

  13. Some people are still alive because they aren’t worth the cost of a five-cent cartridge.


  14. Dang, I “thought” you were gonna put more chlorine in the gene pool! Looks like one got missed. And yes, pity the poor child, IF it survives this set of parents…

  15. Animals like this one are proof that we are now governed by “Survival of the Dumb and/or Unfit”
    He is a prime example of what the gene pool seems to be headed towards these days.
    They can pop out new copies of themselves quicker than Mother Nature can get rid of them.

  16. You’ll be out of here in four hours….

    And dear father-in-law will likely be waiting. Heh.

  17. “I’m guessing that you have figured out all on your ownsome that flinging yourself onto your side when Hospital Security arrives and kicking your legs in a circle, while shrieking at the top of your lungs is also not a wise response.”

    He wasn’t by any chance shrieking “Moe, Larry, the cheese!” was he?

  18. If the idiot in the story did keep a whole bottle of Tylenol down, he’s a dead man walking.

    As kbcraig said … 2 weeks or so, max.

  19. The only saving grace here, to my mind, is that – having downed a whole bottle of Tylenol with god-(and the breathalyzer)-knows how much alcohol in his system (along with, what sounds like, whatever else he could find in the medicine cabinet – dear old dad-in-law isn’t even going to need to do anything to get this bozo out of his daughter and grandkid’s life.

    All he needs to do is keep this guy away for the next week or so, and he’ll have…gracefully…taken himself out of the picture.

    It’s a pity the kid has to grow up without a dad…but it’s better not to have a dad than to have someone who can’t even pass for one in bad lighting. Hopefully, the mother’s the smart one of the two.

  20. The daughters will be kidnapped should they ever take up with such as that. (Though I’d like to think I’ll raise them with a greater sense of self than that poor woman obviously has.) It won’t get so far in this family, I’ve a load of cousins with low morals.

  21. Depending on how many were in each bottle, the combination of the Tylenol, the prenatal vitamins (high in iron, and you can indeed OD on iron) and alcohol, may very well take this guy out of the gene pool.

    Liver failure is a particularly unpleasant way to die.

  22. Makes me remember the Police Dispatcher in “Blues Brothers”
    “The use of excessive force is authorized” Just for reference, which is better(worse), pepper foam, taser, or performing the drum solo from In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida on the critter’s head with a baton?

  23. ye gods and little fishes! i thought my 115 mph run from putney to b.m.h. in a tr-3 with my wife and soon to be first born was bad, but at least i was cold sober and in command of my senses. i’m not as medically sophisticated as some of the posters here, but for the sake of the mother and child i hope their prognoses are accurate and “baby daddy” soon joins the choir invisible.

  24. WHOA. Fascinating. In a ‘watching the train wreck’ sort of way.

    Poor baby!

  25. Will of WillandLeigh,

    This is a temporary condition. Darwin will eventually claim his due, as he always does. It may or may not be soon, but it’s always a good idea to be ready for it.

  26. Oh My GOD!!! What am idiot!!! I vote to let dad make bail.

    The sad part is, the little princess has to know what she married. I doubt this is the first time he’s behaved this way. When will we women learn that codependence is not “standing by your man”. You should only stand by the ones that stand by you.

  27. I wish I believed that posters who claim what this schmoo swallowed was going to kill him in short order. However, since he seems to be equal parts goat, jackass, and cockroach I sadly doubt it.

  28. TOTWTYTR said…
    “He wasn’t by any chance shrieking “Moe, Larry, the cheese!” was he?”

    I hate to admit it but this was the first thing that went thru my mind, followed by the slogan on my favorite tee shirt

    “Some people are alive simply because it is illegal to kill them”

  29. The crazy part is, if one of the neighbors had shot him in the hallway, they’d be the ones in jail. What a world!

  30. The crazy part is, if one of the neighbors had shot him in the hallway, they’d be the ones in jail.

    Not in Texas, I don't think. You could probably make an excellent case you feared for your life & property.

    God bless Texas.

  31. sounds like he was channelling Marlon Brando and auditioning for A Streetcar Named Desire.

  32. This is a commong theme here in itty bitty rez town!

    While I’m driving momma to the big city hospital for delivery, daddy is frequently being driven to the big city jail–conveniently located just down the road from his new pride and joy.

    Why can’t they ever do the right thing and pull the trigger already!

  33. I keep seeing references to both mother and father being horrid excuses for humanity, but only see evidence to support that title for the father.

    If the mother in this situation has an ounce of intelligence she will take her wain and go home to her momma and daddy’s house.

    That sorry ass excuse for a husband would never see that baby if she was my daughter.

  34. TaoistBiker sent me the link to your blog. OUTSTANDING!
    You just described my former neighbors.

  35. I wonder if maybe the mamma didn’t leave that sorry sack of sh*t before this was because she’s scared to death of him. So many of you guys are cops. Isn’t the most dangerous time for a woman in an abusive situation the time when she tries to leave?

    With the intervention of her parents and the law on this particular occasion, maybe she’ll be in a situation safe enough to kick him to the curb and sleep at night.

  36. Seriously, though, hasn’t this guy blown his liver to hell? Isn’t he going to be in a permanent horizontal position in a month or so?

  37. We had such a bottom-feeder on our rig one night. (His) Problem was, the overly-pregnant wife had planted the CLAW end of a hammer firmly into his forehead prior to the arrival of our first ambulance.

    I drove the second ambulance (his) – and Bandaid 101 took hold. The instructor was quite emphatic – NEVER remove an impaled object.

    All righty then — ten rolls of Kling later he was ready for transport — four immobilizing the impaled object, one stuffed into his foul mouth (he was a spitter too), another to secure said roll in his yap, four more holding his formerly-flailing limbs to Mr Ferno Washington. 10-8 Trauma Center

    We arrive at the triage nurse's post and she asks "WHO did this to him?". When we referred her to the extremely pregnant woman who arrived on our first ambulance, the laughter of the emergency room staff disturbed Mr Room Temperature IQ and he began thrashing around a bit.

    He was a portly fellow – his beer gut placed him in serious competition with his wife's condition. The gurney upset, spilling him and his 16-oz appendage onto the floor.

    He had to wait for us to get off the floor to roll him into Room 2… 🙂

    Ah, life in the urban setting.

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