Taboo
Goodbye Rhea, Hello Mommy
People often talk about the ‘5 stages of grief’ when referring to how to cope with a loss. Often the loss of a family member or friend, a childhood pet, a marriage or even love lost. Grief is rarely considered acceptable when referenced in the loss of one’s former self, the life or person you were before this or that happened. Taboo isn’t even harsh enough of a word to use, when someone (I am someone), uses grief to describe how they feel about their pregnancy or motherhood, because who would do such a thing.
By R.A. Moseley4 years ago in Confessions
My Friend’s Wife Threatens To Kill Herself If My Friend Leaves Her.
My friend just rang me via our work channel. I found it odd, as we are in two separate departments, we have no work-related topics to discuss together, so there was no need to call me via Microsoft Teams.
By Oberon Von Phillipsdorf4 years ago in Confessions
I Ruined My Friends Life When I Introduced Him To A Psycho
I have a confession to make — I made a big mistake. One year ago I introduced my close friend to a girl that I didn’t know too well. Last summer my friend went through hell, his wife kicked him out and robbed him because he finally stood up for himself.
By Oberon Von Phillipsdorf4 years ago in Confessions
Instant Karma at Sweet Lips Topless Bar
Man... I loved that bar. It was lime green. What other building has that kind of audacity? There were paintings of women in bikinis all over it. I like women in bikinis, almost as much as I like them naked. It was two blocks from "La Armada" housing projects...down Port Avenue, a particularly downtrodden part of town. It was owned by an elderly black man named Robert, who was always there during business hours, but asleep most of the time. The staff were all ex-convicts. They had a low-down sexuality from repressed times, doing time. Don't think because these women were ex-cons that some of them weren't pretty. A few of them were stunningly beautiful.
By J.D. Bradley4 years ago in Confessions
Yvonne
Yvonne the one-eyed whore; that's what she was known as. She had no problems with that designation. I had a bit of a crack problem although I managed to keep a regular job, which is rare. There's generally no balancing a crack habit and paying bills. I lived in one of the barrios of Corpus Christi. I was about as down and out as I've ever been. The crack cocaine lifestyle is not one I recommend but like any such subculture it has a tendency to give you a tribe of sorts. Yvonne was the matriarch of our tribe and I somewhat of the patriarch.
By J.D. Bradley4 years ago in Confessions
