You're still a fucking prick

I'm walking out of the pub and the sky is so blue I decide I should go and lie on the heath for a little while before my son comes home. Perhaps I should eat first. I'm debating this when I run into a school mum who's with her kids. When she asks how I am, I tell her I've just had a hair of the dog!

"You're not still going from Friday are you?!" I tell her yes, but hang on, I only had one can at the disco and then I stayed in. She tells me to have a liquid day and eat something sweet like biscuits. I say a cheery "bye bye, see you in the morning!"

"Message from the dark side there is" It's Yoda, alerting me to a text message on my phone.

Whaddya know, a dark fucking message indeed. It's the Foca saying he's sent me an email. He's not bringing my son back today.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH. The internal screech splits my eardrums. I text him back, saying for fucks sake, he's out of order. Friends have suggested I stop access but I don't want to punish our son like he does.

RRRAAGH RRRAAGH RRRAAGH

I want another drink. A Jack Daniels. On ice. I want it now but I've just been in a pub on my own. I'm not doing it again however bloody much I want to.

Relationships on the rocks
Aint no suprise
Pour me a drink
And I'll poke you in the eyes
Yesterday's gone
And you're still a fucking PRICK (Neil Diamond featuring a very fucking infuriated Stigmum)

I text Steve. "r u around?" He's not my Alco buddy, he is my buddy. I do not have an Alco buddy. I am my own Alco fucking buddy.

I get home and I read the email.

I can't tell you how much I hate seeing his name in my inbox. Perhaps one day I will, I'll write a poem or something scratched onto his skin with my own sharp nails.

It crosses my mind his wife might be dead or something. There is always something wrong with his wife. Oh look, yes, she does feature but no she hasn't died, he's just reminding me she's had a second baby.

He's emailing me to tell me he's no longer going to bring our son back on Sunday. There, like it and lump it, he doesn't give a fuck. It cuts through our son's time with his brothers and cousins. The journey time is 'ludicrous'. He'll talk to the school. If I have a problem with it, I can make the journey to Brighton and back on a sunday because it won't 'interfere' with my life.

It's all WANK.

I hit reply and BREATHE. No expletives dear, it may have to be presented in a court of law.

It was your choice to move to Brighton, you didn't realise how tired our son was the last time and it effects his whole week (same old shit that I said the last time basically)

My own brother is fully able to return his kids to their mother when he's visiting the family down south

You have a driving licence, you have a car, you do not need to rely on public transport

And as for my making the trip to Brighton. You make decisions without discussing them with me then expect me and my son to carry the cost of those decisions?

I hit send. I send a text telling him I've replied to his email, to bring our son home today.

Relationship on the rocks
Aint no surprise
Pour me a drink
Let me poke you in both eyes
Yesterday's gone
You are still a FUCKING PRICK.

I go to Google. I stab my laptop. What is on at the cinema? I have a free fecking evening infront of me now and am I going to stay in so I can throw plastic plates at the walls. I want to throw REAL ONES but it won't achieve ANYTHING.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHH