Whiskey Tango?

17 Jul

There’s no photo on this post mostly because I’m on my phone, but also because I couldn’t find one that would work here.
Most of you know that I have reached a new level of white trash since May 29th. No, I did not have an out of wedlock baby and name him Damien. I also did not move from a single wide to the luxurious double wide, because remember folks, I’m a public school teacher; a double wide is a pipe dream. Meth pipe.
May 29th was the day the mister went to jail. Sadly, he didn’t go to jail on a super classy domestic violence charge or drug possession. No, he went to jail on a probation violation. Yeah, I know that sounds potentially Cops worthy, but that’s not the case.
Even though I spend my weekends at the jail where my husband is currently housed, he shouldn’t be there. He is a victim of ignorance and vindictiveness. It should NEVER be a crime to call 911 when you need help. As you recall, that is exactly why the mister is in jail!
Now, while I fall into one very clear category of white trashdom, I actually, finally live in a really nice house; it doesn’t even have wheels!
I love my mister and I hate my county. I am fighting for my mister as if I was wearing ripped Daisy Dukes with a diapered Damien on my hip and a Pall Mall dangling from my lips and I won’t stop until he’s back in our new, wheel-free home.


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