So my idiot father is dating a psycho woman.

I think I’ve blogged two things before. One that my parents are split and second that my father is dating a crazy woman, whom I have re-named “Maryse”. Why? Because I don’t want to be sued. That’s why.

For a short back story on Maryse, please read my last major post about her: http://codenamesailorearth.blogspot.com/2011/12/does-charles-nyan-or-meow.html Additional notes to today's story, Maryse is 39 years old, a Twilight fan, an ex-cheerleader, and a Public School French Teacher for SMALL children. Oh, and she talks like a nasally wing bar waitress. Leik a total Hooters waitress an' stuff. Leik Ohmaigawd!! Oh and I'm sorry to tell you, she has bred. Her son is a teenager, and she has more than one boyfriend, outside of my idiot father.

Oh, and one more thing, her teenaged son has a 1 and a half year old daughter. So she's a grandmother. Isn't this special??

Now my father the last three weeks has been more than a nightmare to handle. So far, he’s called me a lazy bitch loser for not cooking for him, and a deadbeat because I just “draw pictures” (that’s what he calls cartooning) and I never have a “real” job like the one he was fired from. (Working at a 7-11. No really, I can’t make this up.)

Now he’s blamed most of this on the gout attack from Hell, and just a bit ago, I got a reason “why” he’s been acting like a demon in a Baptist church.

So in a “civil” conversation with my single mother, he tells her the following story:

Maryse is angry with me, because I won’t babysit my father. Mind you, he’s over 50 years old, that’s old enough in my book to take care of himself. But because I won’t go to his apartment, and cook and clean for him, massage his feet and peel him a grape, I am somehow a horrible human being, and she thinks I need to go to her house, obey her commands, clean it and apologize to her for not being my father’s slave. I am not joking, I have yet to even speak to her face to face, and already she wants to destroy my freedom? Bitch, I’m 25.

Oh, and she keeps telling my dad that my life is a lie, that every show I ever went to, and every person I ever met is me lying to her through my dad, and I need to apologize to her, and all three of her other boyfriends, because she also thinks I’m somehow standing in the way of her marrying Billy Corgan. Mind you, she’s never been to Chicago, and God willing, it stays that way. I think Billy deserves better, don’t you??

So because she is so angry, Maryse has been taking my father all over the place at all these garage sales. She feels that by keeping my dad around (and I’m being honest when I type this) she is keeping “the devil” at bay. Yes, that’s right, she thinks that the devil has been living inside her back, and somehow my father and shopping garage sales makes the devil go away.

Oh wait, this is just the forward to the tale.

There’s one strip of land that she calls Garage Mahal. She claims she made up the word to describe this strip, that is chock full of nothing but people having garage sales, and that the new TV show with Bill Goldberg doesn’t exist… and neither does he.

Maryse is aggravated at my father’s gout, and his constant complaining that his doctor told him not to spend too much time on his feet. Doctor’s notes are just silly excuse post-it-notes that mean nothing, after all. Now he says he cooks and cleans for her, and tries to do right by her, because she is a hoarder. He says there is trash in her house from floor to ceiling, she says he needs to respect her pizza boxes. (Wow, what a charmer, right? Keep reading.)

So since he won’t “just stop” having gout, she put a hex and a spell on him.

… I will state this again. She put a hex and a spell on him, because she isn’t able to handle the fact that he’s got gout. That’s as batshit crazy as if you saw somebody putting a curse on a guy in a wheelchair, because that person is handicapped. And I’m fairly certain that witches tend to believe that what ever spell you put out, comes back to you 10 times over.

Now the hex and spell she placed on him? She did this to make the gout WORSE to teach him a “lesson” for his having gout.

By the way… she’s a school teacher. For small children. In a public school. Wait, there’s more.

So then she tells him that she wants to continue casting spells on him, so that they will both eventually die (dad first she says) and then their souls will become intertwined, and he will be reborn as a Black man, so he can properly pay for his sin of having gout in her presence.

… AND SHE’S A SCHOOL TEACHER?!?!?!?! AND A GRANDMA??!?!?!

Now the logical question here folks, is “Why don’t you break up with her????” which is exactly what I asked while looking in the phone book for the padded wagon.

He says “but I like her drama. It gives me something to talk about.”

For Christmas last year, one of my uncles sent me an apology, for smacking him face first with a baseball bat when they were children. Had he known the damage would be permanent, he would have just played with his erector set instead.

Does Charles "Nyan" or "Meow"?

My parents are separated. I feel obligated to open every story about my father with that line.

So my father just got back into his apartment in my basement, looking rather disheveled. He claims that he just got back from an “emergency” trip to Target… for cat food.

Now for the record, nobody in my local bloodwork owns a cat. In fact, I am severely allergic to short hairs and “Garfield” style cats, so a feline is out of the question here.

Ergo, one must surmise that my father was buying cat food for his girlfriend, and this would be correct. So this is the tale he told me about this late night excursion.

Now if you were a fan of my MySpace blogs between 2009 and 2010, then you already know about her. But for those of you just joining the party here on Blogger, let me catch you up.

My father began asking my mother to help him pay for coffee for his girl “Maryse” in 2009. “Maryse” is 39 years old, huge Twilight fan, has a teenaged son who is her personal slave, has more than two boyfriends (One of whom is serving a decently sized sentence for touching a 13 year old) and is an ex-French teacher for children … who “LEIK TOTALLY CAN’T UM UNDERSTAAAAND WHYLEIK THE SCHOOL LEIK TOATALLY WANTED TO FIER HER AND STUFF? LEIK WOW WHAT’S GOING ON MAAAN?” Can you imagine this bitch trying to speak French? “LEIK BONJUUUR COMOTALLYVIEU??” I should point out her nasal, wing bar waitress voice. Also, she is an ex-cheerleader.

So now that you know who Maryse is, let me tell you why she needed cat food.

A while ago, Maryse went to Japan. There, in a city outside of Harajuku, she went down a dark alley.

There, she found a one-eyed cat, marching between two boxes….

I want you to hold onto that image of the cat marching for just a bit.

Maryse found the cat to be so attractive, that she snatched the cat up, and ran back to the airport.

She paid $500 to have the cat sent to the US.

… No, God forbid she spend that kind of money on a local US shelter cat, where she would know ahead of time if the cat belonged to anybody, naaaaaaah why risk it? Sure, let’s plunk down Fie-Hundred-Dollaz on a random stray, and not even bother to check if he belongs to someone, is sick or has been neutered.

So $500 later, the cat is now on United States soil. She named him “Charles”. (No really, that’s his name.)

Now Charles is a black and white cat… but his patches aren’t exactly what you would expect.

Charles has one patch over his missing eye, in the shape of an Emo haircut…

The other black patch is small, box-like, and stationed under his pink nose.

This is Charles, photo taken right after he had his shots. Assumed age at the time thi photo was taken: Barely one year.

O_O;;;

Once more, Charles loves to march.

And in case you are wondering, this Japanese cat has yet to “Nyan”. However, when he hacks up a fur ball, he has a nasty habit of dry-heave coughing “HIEL mew HIEL”