Today will mark the 100th day that we have been “on the run” from family who have lost their minds. This is what they are saying with their loving actions….
“Sorry, Dear, you are guilty of theft, period. We will not ask you anything about your guilt directly. We will only speak through emails. We will tell anyone that may give you a word of encouragement that you are a piece of shit that deserves nothing. And now that we have reached 100 days, we will be forwarding out a three-month old email, trying to prove that this entire FEST is all your fault. We did nothing wrong. We did not steal clothing and give it to Goodwill. The JUDGE did that remember?”
“Of course, Dear, we read every thought you wrote, typed, or drew, and kept for 20 years. We had to steal something we knew for a fact you could not get back from us. Here are your thoughts back dear…See, we cannot give them back. However, we can and will share them with others…friends, family, police, courts, CPS, and anyone else we can think of. We are so happy you are good with that! ”
“Oh, your son? Well, we thought it would build his character for ALL of us to completely ignore him on Christmas. We wanted to show him exactly what kind of people we are. We spent the day with his sister, we had to make sure she got her gifts. Oh, his sugar glider died? I am sorry, we cannot ever acknowledge that. We do not even see him. You allowed him to have a potty mouth in the email he sent out, and our eyes filled with our own blood blinding us for life.
For this 100th day, in recognition the death of the innocent sugar glider, “Shug Zoe”, mate of “Shug Night”, I am posting that twelve-year old’s email as he sent it, potty mouth and all. I guarantee he has handled this shit storm better than the adults who dragged him into it.
December 28, 2012
So, you screwed us once again. You know…. I’m starting to lose count of how many times you have just straight pissed me and my entire family off. Come on what the hell did me or my family ever do to you prior to these events? Nothing…Absolutely nothing. You know, I don’t consider you family anymore, or anyone else in that bloody house. Except “XXXX”, who I would consider a friend.
You are one fucking idiot, man. By the way, who in the hell fucked with my father’s FX Light Saber? That shit was sealed, and we got it only to find it open. I am done being quiet now. It’s time I gave my opinion on this stupid situation. You tried to get into my mom’s safe, didn’t you? By the way, the only way you could get into the Ford Explorer is… Guess what?…BREAKING AND ENTERING!
I am absolutely fed up with your bullshit. I hate you with a passion, I guarantee you that. Oh, and guess what happened, just today?….You know our sugar gliders? Yeah, there WERE two of them…But guess what? ONE OF THEM IS DEAD! And you know it’s your damn fault. If you didn’t drive us into this damn hotel, we would have been able to care for them properly, and they would have been fine.
All because of this lie XXXX said, you automatically, Hell, I would say INSTANTLY accepted as one-hundred percent correct without even asking us. Nice job with the restraining order against my mother, but you didn’t get one on my dad or me. That means we are allowed to go to the Explorer, and you can do nothing about it. Because you can try to twist the law into your own vision and make it all happy for you and your family, but in the end you will pay. You can think yourself a god, but once again, you will pay.
Nice talking to you, Asshole.
The Twelve-Year Old
A little “FAMILY FEST” dialog between Spun and King Punk
What have we done, invasion of privacy what have we done,conversion of property what have we done???????????? maliciously made up the lie caused my SUV to be impounded. Did I thank you for that one yet?
You keep asking why we are doing this, what is it we are doing? Umm, what have you done? Are you sure you are still unclear on that?
I’m trying to stay out of the mess between King Shit, and you.. I believe since you started the “mess”, I will call you the creator of FU8K FEST 2012 and yes I got copied on e-mails from King Shit and yes I copied him e-mails that you sent me…A warm up to sharing our journals, letters, medical records, etc. Was there not enough mail coming to you, address to us, so you felt the urge to share other ways? My apologies to everyone, I should have had more mail going there…
Did you enjoy touching everything? Too bad our personal sex tapes we made were in the storage you thought needed to be auctioned off to strangers. Really though, your kindness overwhelms me at times. How can we ever pay you back for all you have done.
Just kidding about the sex tapes. They are actually DVD’s not tapes, and we picked them up on one of the several drugs runs we made to Vegas. We thought you were going through a lot of trouble invading our privacy so we put them on the internet to make it easier for you. Are we not the best or what?
So don’t e-mail me anymore, that’ll show me….What? Are you saying you no longer want anymore words of wisdom from me? Now if you spent half the time you do on the computer trying how to get an O of P on King Shit finding out all about the laws about this and that, how you’ll show him a thing or to and that he’s just not dealing with some idiot that knows nothing about nothing…
…Sorry, I had to break up your really long thought… Yes my King Punk, that is exactly what I do all day….Your Peter Rabbit is the one who makes sure my son has a roof over his head and food in his stomach…I understand the Internet is a lost concept to you, to each their own. However, learning to read what is on that order of protection concerning the words PROPERTY, and NECESSARY DOCUMENTS took two seconds. I guess none of you can read those big words.
Like I told King Shit back in the day…have someone outside your cult read some shit once in awhile. Stop analyzing My Emails, My Welcome to FU8KFEST2012, My PRIVATE mail, thoughts, medical records, trying to find out “this and that” as you like to say…the big words will confuse you…
you might find time to get a job and find a place to live and put a decent roof over your son’s head and give him a normal life. No thanks, I have seen what “normal” people do all day. Thinking up ways to invade our privacy, steal, lie, and finding even more ways to be the biggest hypocrites, not to mention assholes, is not something I want to teach my son. You normal people should get a hobby to expand your horizons beyond me.
I know its not your fault, its mine, mrs.King Punk, King Shit, You are correct up to that point, this mess is not my fault. As far as the following two, Twerp and Twerpette, I am not certain yet, time will tell. However, I do not believe Peter rabbits,Tom thumbs ,Supermans, and all the other people in the world, had a freaking thing to do with this, you get all the credit. You should feel special..
Feel free to copy this to anyone, and tell us all…Thank you for your permission, I will feel free to do what I want with this…Just a quick FYI….Permission is something you did not have from us to touch our personal property. Permission is something the Judge DID NOT give you classy people to touch, move, sell, give away, read, our property. Nothing of ours, was, is, or will ever be abandoned…
WHAT HAVE WE DONE? Oh, I do not know…Maybe created and ran off the tracks the biggest FU*K FEST of your lives… 🙂
- ScottsdaleSpun2013-Fest Fun Continues On… (spun360.me)
- ScottsdaleSpun2013: Doing Christmas…The Fest Way-Part One (spun360.me)
So much in life is taken for granted. If you can take a breath and a step you are already ahead of many. If you live in a county like the United States, even in an economic downturn with morality flying out the window, be thankful. There are people trying every second to get into this country who would trade places with your shit life in a second. There is someone out there who has it worse off than you do. That being said, your shit life is still yours to deal with. You are going through it and there is no one else that can fully understand.
I believe the more shit you go through the more empathy you have for others. We were walking out of Wal-Mart a few weeks ago when this “kid” (I do not know when I became old enough to call a mid 20-year-old a kid) walked up to us. Pointing to a car, he explained that he and his girlfriend were trying to rent a hotel room. They had nowhere to go, and it was getting colder. I watched as my husband talked to the kid. After about a minute he made eye contact with me, and I just smiled. He reached into his pocket pulling out the last twenty we had and handed it to him. We had food, a roof for the night, and gas in the car, and at that moment we did not need anything else.
The kid could have been full of shit. We might have been his millionth mark. Maybe he took it, and went straight their dealers house, I do not know. Their shit was their’s and they were dealing with it the best way they knew how. He could have put a gun in our face, or anyone else’s to get what he needed. Personally, I think it takes some balls to walk up to strangers at midnight asking if they have any change. I would not have wanted my husband to handle it any other way.
If King Punk had the kid’s phone number he would have warned him months ago not to talk to us. He knows we need someone to help our son run some Heroin out of Afghanistan and Coke out of Columbia. The human trafficking business we run has slowed a bit, so we are short-handed. Which when you are competing with the Mexican Cartel for the Meth trade in the US, things can get a little sketchy without the proper help.
I was about to post this, and I thought I better put a disclaimer about that last paragraph. It is not true. My family would actually print it and take it to the police thinking “off to prison they go”. After the theft and publishing of our personal journals and documents it would not surprise me in the least. When you frantically deflect because you do not want to deal with your own shit life, the mirror I hold up is going to start reflect back… Wear your sunglasses…
Mental Email of Wisdom (spun360.me)
- The Fine Art of Giving A Shit (thegoodword.me)
Christmas Day 2012 started with a race against the clock. Eleven AM was our drop-dead time, and my son did not need to be moved again. I had a system for picking and paying for our hotels which required the internet. Per my luck, the hotel internet was down for a few hours, so I found myself driving to our second home McDonald’s. The streets were deserted and the parking lot completely non-existent of human kind. It was Christmas, and most people were with their families, enjoying their own special traditions and making new ones.
I thought about how my son must feel. Trying to explain why he was being treated like he did something wrong was not possible. He had already noticed not being invited out to my parents during Thanksgiving while his sister was in town. Now it was Christmas and his sister was once again with them on a little holiday trip. When he asked where his presents were from them, I lied. The truth was, I had no freaking idea. Who does that to a child on Christmas, who is already in the middle of a mess created by adults?
I heard the “Merry Christmas” sounding exactly like I needed it to. I could feel warm childhood memories calm my emotions. My uncle sounded just like my grandfather, and I held on to those feelings until I heard how he said my name. It was off, and I knew they had been told something by my mother. When the first thing my aunt said was to calm down because we needed to find a half way house, I had to hang up. I could not believe how far this had gone. Over what?
We had been forced out a week before Christmas with no reason. Every time I turned on my computer there was another email from King Shit. We were being slammed to anyone my family thought we may have contact with. My son was being treated like shit. My father’s only words to me on Christmas when I called to ask him to shut up his psycho brother, was for me to do it myself. Heartless is word that comes to mind when I think about that day.
I needed it to stop for two seconds before I lost my mind. I had not threatened King Shit, yet he kept saying how he was going to get an order of protection against my husband and myself. I needed a break from him for two seconds so I gave him my F*** Fest Manifesto for Christmas. He said thank you by getting the Order of Protection against me. I slept for almost two days straight after that. It was just the break I needed and well worth the OPP.
- ScottsdaleSpun2013: Welcome to F*#K Fest 2012 (spun8.wordpress.com)
I pulled up to the house and the images of a week ago came fast and full of detail. I was living it again, feeling the coldness and watching the confusion turn to anger in my son’s face. The mob mentality that had been created from a perception was inconceivable. The resulting damaged was something I would be dealing with months later.
Sleep that last week had been fractional at best, making it difficult to pull pieces of information together. I was at the house for one reason, to get my son’s PS3 back from KS.
I followed the officer to the door thinking about how KS had told me not to come over on Christmas. Apparently, they were going to have a wonderful time and did not want any interruptions. I was not trying to upset my grandparents, but I was already a thief to them and I was certain that KS would continue to spin something from nothing. It no longer mattered what the truth was.
KS came to the door, his face showing a small hint of concern as I met his gaze. Once the recognition of who at his door, out walked KS Smooth Operator. The pretty red stone walkway should have been splattered with my puke while I stood there listening to his mouth run. Motioning with his hands, he explained to the officer how they had put everything I had in the house into my truck. The same truck that was locked and not on his property.
As the lies and slander start to flow from his “Godly” mouth he smiles, as he explains about my long history of drug use. I start to say something to him, and he calmly says my name, implying how sad it is and how he knows all about it. I stomped to my car and hit the roof, took a breath and walked back. My mental state had been pushed to the limits by King Psycho, who by now was thinking he was untouchable.
The cool, calm, and collected “XANAXED OUT” KS continues on, sighing with a sadness as he tells how he tried to help another poor drugged out family member with the same result. God’s humor was in full effect that day as that was the same cop who had been on that call. I am not sure if KS knew or just thought he was that smooth.
The officer doing his job, questioned me about drugs and the welfare of my child. KS had already crossed a lot of lines throughout his play in my world. However, putting a question into a cop’s head about the welfare of my child is a line crossed you do not come back from. Especially after he had no problem kicking him out into the unstable care of his “drugging thieving parents”. Once I told that to the officer and showed him the note KS left on our door, he did not say another word about it.
When I told KS I wanted my PS3, he looked a little surprised, even stumbled a bit in his smooth talk. He says, “Oh, that is in the room under the TV stand”. Really? Did you not just tell that officer everything we owned from the room was in the truck you broke into?
He brings the out the PS3 and hands it to me. I walk to my car telling him I will see him in court. I am certain he was saying something smooth back, but I was sick of his mouth as it was brown from all the shit he talked. I really just wanted him to shut up for a few days and leave me alone. I got into my car and started it, but I could not breathe. I shut the engine off as the cop came over to see if I was alright. I said I was, and he told me relax for a second before I tried to drive. We exchanged Merry Christmas’ and after a minute, I drove away.
Now King Shit was starting to get very board with his own life, so he created a different universe in which to tell his stories. He has quite a few followers who drank his Kool-Aid, and even a couple that must have taken an extra cup. Because in the real world…she is on drugs + she is freaking out + she backed into the police car…would equal “field sobriety test” not “they let her go”. That Kool-Aid must be good…
- Scottsdale Spun 2013: The Beginning… (spun8.wordpress.com)
- ScottsdaleSpun2013: Doing Christmas…The Fest Way-Part One (spun8.wordpress.com)
I woke up on Christmas with my head throbbing. I had not slept very long and had wasted too many hours trying to respond to more bullshit. We were a week out, and I was still being accused of things I could not make up if tried. I kept waiting for anyone in my family to explain what the hell was going on. They must have been busy with the holidays and all the joy that comes with it this year.
King Shit’s email on the night of the 18th was full of “blah, blah”. However, one sentence stood out, ” I’d have to tell him about the Dumb Shit’s missing DVD player and drugs that were gone after you both were over there cleaning.” The person KS wants to tell is my son, because apparently KS has no ability to decipher sarcasm. There was a lot more he would “have to tell him”. I saved him the trouble and printed it out. Now my son can use the wisdom it contains as a guide to get through life.
My father had also sent an email about the mysterious “missing” items. I did not read it until after K.S’s ramble, but his included a little more F-you in it. His let me know that my mother had felt so bad she bought Dumb Shit a new DVD player. If anyone would have bothered to ask, we would have given her one of five that we own. I often wonder what they think I was going to do with another one, pawn it for fifty cents of crack? Oh, wait I guess it would be for fifty cents worth of the same “pills” they all take.
Since every dime we had been able to scrape up had been to keep a roof over our heads, there was not much for Christmas. When my son asked if his gifts from everyone were in the truck that was parked by KS’s house I wanted to throw up. I had sent emails to my parents demanding a few things that only came out because I was pissed. However, the one demand I did mean was they needed leave their grandson something for Christmas before they went on their “holiday”.
Another family member did tell me later that they did not know where to leave anything. That is ironic because the one person who took ten seconds to think about my son managed to get us some goodies without even seeing us. I remember Christmas as a child, and I know for a FACT that my deceased grandparents would have made sure I had something. Even if my mother was sitting on the corner smoking crack after stealing their diamond’s to buy it. I guess the fact they think I am not entitled to human decency, runs through my blood into his.
In our mad rush to get out of the Hell House, we left our son’s PS3 in the room. In a week we had gone from you can come by to get your things anytime to ” step foot on the property and I will call the police.” Which by now there was no way I would step on the property without the police. So much shit had been made up I had no idea what was going to come next. Maybe… steal my grandmother’s antiques?
Within two days of the “missing” DVD player KS had spun a little story about “antiques”. I would like to think that one of them had made a comment to him about how asinine the DVD player sounded. However, now these were not missing, I was “planning” on stealing them so I think he had digressed a little. My father did send an email asking if it was true that I was planning on stealing some items from my grandmother that had been under fifty feet of dirt and crap scattered across a half an acre of backyard.
The police followed me to the Hell House to get my son’s PS3 on Christmas Day. I had promised him I would get it and I do not promise my kids anything unless I know I can make it happen. However, if I had known KS was going to play dirty I might have thought twice before making that one…
- ScottsdaleSpun2013: Welcome to F*#K Fest 2012 (spun8.wordpress.com)
- Scottsdale Spun 2013: The beginning… (spun8.wordpress.com)