Re: She's Hot Looking And Oh So VERY Dirty


"Ruthless" <roothliss@xxxxxxxxx> wrote in message
news:4746851d.2774205156@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

What I mostly remember about living in filth was realizing that we
*stunk*. I walked into my classroom one day when I was in the fourth grade
(9 years old) and saw a couple of kids wrinkle their noses as I walked
by... recognized that they could literally smell the stink on me. By that
time, all the housework was primarily my responsibility (I was, after all,
the oldest girl...) and I actually started trying to do it. Rather than
hide everything under furniture, I'd pick up the *** and scrub the pee,
try to rinse dishes before they were stacked, try to put clean clothes
where animals wouldn't *** on them, try to get the garbage into bags and
out on the curb on time for pickup, beat up my brothers and my sister to
make them help me clean house after school. I had to spend my Saturdays at
the laundromat, and was expected to clean the house and feed the kids
after school during the week. Sundays were a joy because even when my
parents weren't willing to go to Mass, they would get up and take us and
drop us off at Church if we asked. I loved going to Mass. After Mass, we'd
go over to my best friend's clean and stable house and watch television
and have Sunday dinner. We didn't have a television, and we didn't have
Sunday Dinners. Sundays became my favorite day from the beginning of fifth
grade until I left home after the 8th grade.

Davi


The house I grew up in was always clean. We never had any pets until I was
a young teenager and my father brought my mother a puppy as a 'peace
offering' in one of their fights where he'd moved out of the house for
awhile. My father is a *clean freak*. My grandma lived only a block
away, so she came and cleaned our house until I was old enough to take over.
From the time I was in elementary school on, I came home from school and
took care of my sister. It was my job to start dinner, what ever that might
have been. It was also my job to clean the house. I learned to do it
properly, because if I didn't do it to the standards of the old man, I did
it over and over until it met his standards. I learned to wash the clothes,
iron them, clean the house, the old man cut the grass, but I did all the
trimming with a little yard scissors. By that time, my sister became his
little *pet*, the favored child. I remember once asking 'how come she
didn't have to do anything?' And he said 'because you are older.' And I
said 'but when I was 7 or 8, I was already doing such and such', to which I
got smacked across the face for 'back-talking' him. Somehow sister never
got 'old enough' to do any chores. The old man had the attitude 'a kid who
isn't working at some chore, is a useless kid'. So he always found
something that needed doing, even if it was something that had already been
done and completed. I spent my summers cleaning, doing laundry, ironing,
and watching my sister. During the school year, I did those things after
school and on the week-ends. The worst part about it all, was that my
sister grew into a real bitch. She would make messes, so the old man would
make me clean them up. She wouldn't listen to me, when I was supposed to be
watching her. I remember one day, when the old man got home from work, my
sister wasn't there. I told her she had to stay home, but she wouldn't
listen to me. So I got beaten cause I 'let her' go off somewhere. So the
next day after school, she tried to take off again. I had to physically
restrain her in order to keep her home. So when the old man got home that
day, she told him 'tiny *hit* me. I said, 'she wouldn't listen to me, she
was going to go off somewhere when she wasn't supposed to. So the old man
hit *me* again, because I'd hit and physically restrained her in my efforts
to keep her from leaving the house. I learned that no matter what I did, I
was going to get beaten for it. If I didn't physically make her stay home,
I'd get it for her not being there. If I did physically 'make her' stay
home, I got it for 'putting my hands on her'. I remember what upset me the
most about all of it was all those years I spent protecting her, taking care
of her, when she was too young to take care of herself, and then when she
got older, she did everything she could to get me in trouble all the time.
She would *say* I hit her, even if I never laid a hand on her. Or she would
say "if you don't do such and such, I'm going to tell daddy you hit me." It
was at that point in time that we, my sister and I, grew apart. I basically
ignored her, because all she ever did was get me in trouble to get
favoritism from *daddy*. So by the time we were both teenagers, we
basically went our own ways.

Something that really struck me as *off*, after I'd grown up and had kids of
my own, was my fathers *using* of me. He liked to go camping, but he hated
having only 'girls'. Because there were things I wasn't physically able to
do. Chop wood, carry big containers of water, etc. So once I got to be
about 12, when we'd pull into a campground, he found, if I walked around the
roadways throughout the camp ground, I could usually pick up a guy or two.
So once I *attracted* some male/s, then the old man could get them to do the
heavy stuff that I couldn't manage myself. He basically pimped me out to
get teenage guys to work for him in order to 'spend time with' me. He
really knew how to work things so he could get the stuff he wanted done
without actually having to do any of it himself. Oh he loved camping. He'd
plant himself in his lawn chair and *supervise* the setting up and equipping
of the campsite.

td


--
People are like diamonds. They have many facets.


.

Loading