Left Hanging

I’m so sick of false promises, of failure, of missed opportunities, chances and deadlines, of being whipped and flogged by those close to me.

Not just by those who are of my own blood, one of whom ironically forced me, through deceit and manipulation of my incredible stress and fear and mental anguish (holding me financially hostage, exploiting my lack of any money and her unwillingness to spend hers on anything decent and necessary), to rely on Legal Aid for my defence . . . while she buys a condo for herself on a mortgage of a quarter of a million dollars, even though she already owns more than two houses (every time someone tells me how “lucky” I am to be inside a condo instead of being at least represented by someone who would put up a fight on my behalf in a court of law, who could’ve gotten me out early but also fought tooth and nail for my rights and my innocence, I very badly want to tear out their fucking jaw, slowly and painfully, watching their eyes screaming, in such a manner that they would only fear me, so that they’d never say such disgusting callous horse-shit to me again, especially to my face), then in November 2011, mysteriously puts a deposit of a meagre $3000 towards a lawyer she chose, allegedly on my behalf yet in reality without my knowledge . . . and never told me about it for months. By the time I found out about this, it was too late for him to use him for my appeals.

Not just by the illiterate, serial-quitting lawyers that were hired by Legal Aid, one of whom, Garth Buitenhuies, was severely mentally ill and stole documents, refusing to return them to me for a full 3.5 years (and only returned it when he was told to do so by my negligent, procrastinating granny), and everyone knew it, including the prosecutor, who took advantage of it to push her own agenda, and my granny, who literally prevented me from firing him even though she wasn’t the client, while the other lawyer was manifestly sleazy, lazy, incompetent and all-round greaseball who was in trouble with the Law Society in 2007 and 2008 for fraud and forgery (and plead guilty to all charges, yet didn’t lose his license), and yet despite his disastrous role in my affairs by completely selling me out without reading a single damn line of documentation, he was hired by the same granny to handle my sister’s divorce matters.

Not just by any supposed council in that deserted wasteland of a former province of mine that is taking a fucking long-ass time to find, with a lack of any prompt and proper resources to back me to find someone at least decent, and that almost all of them being from Saskatoon, literally defend the actions of these assholes despite the obvious evidence pointing out how incompetent and inadequate they were in defending me, and how illegal and unethical their actions were, as well as their shitty advice. I just want someone so I can let them do the dirty work while I can get back to creating. Yet I’m barely finished with even explaining anything to these people, and they just reject my request outright, judging without having everything in front of them. Over and over again.

But by those who call themselves my friends. Specifically those in Saskatchewan. Nevermind the ones I got here, they’ve got nothing to do with this rant.

Every one of those lazy, negligent, indifferent, time-wasting fucks in Saskatchewan, though, I want to punish for their slacking and fucking around, failing to help, and pissing me off every time I open my mouth. One of them, who was supposed to be a witness but was dismissed by Garth for absolutely no reason, was and is unwilling to write down her testimony or go to the police or anything while her memory wastes away. Granted she put little effort, but she called the prosecutor instead of my lawyer. Another one is Tiarnan Quinn (or for the sake of this article, T-Bag), one of the laziest pieces-of-shit alive, a spoilt-senseless brat. I met T-Bag at swimming lessons way-ago. He’s an example of why I’ve never been out with my friends much on my legal nightmare that’s strangulating me to death. Last Saturday, I was calling him to see what’s up, how he’s been. You know, what friends do. Midway into the beginning of our conversation, that scummy little fuckbag hung up on me. Just suddenly. I called him back a few times, only to be hung up on over and over again. Finally, he talked. But all he said was: “I’m not a lawyer, I can’t help you.” And hung up on me.

First of all, what the fuck is he talking about? What the fuck’s wrong with this asshole? My call had nothing to do with my legal shit. I was calling him to see how he was, to catch up on the five year gap of time between us, to know what’s been going on with him for the last five mother fucking years.

Granted I’ve asked his dad before to for some help in finding me someone who’d be willing or able to defend me, much to no avail (though this guy also suggested I’d try Legal Aid . . . to sue Legal Aid, and repeated himself despite me repeating myself that I’m trying to sue Legal Aid), and that I’ve wanted to have T-Bag help me out somehow. Still, what the fuck!

Secondly, I’m honestly now convinced that my friendship with him has been a total sham. That I was merely his dad’s patient, and that I was some house-hold chore for Tiarnan and his brother to take care of, that they were only nice to be because they either feared me or something. The only thing me and he did was take me to the pool hall at the university they lived near, the lamest adventure I’ve ever done with them. Probably because their dad told them to. Nothing else epic happened afterward or before. I suppose this is why people are usually so nice to me.

Finally, he may not be a lawyer, but if I was trying to get some help from him, he should at-fucking-least help me in finding one. And even if they don’t know any personally, what pain and anguish is there in helping me do the research? You don’t leave a friend hanging like that when they’re going through serious rough times and ask for some kind of support from you. Equally important is you don’t fucking treat people like that, especially me.

And to think that T-Bag would care about his friends. Well, he doesn’t. He’s full of shit, a fraud, and an indifferent, lousy, cowardly spoiled brat. It’s as bad as being falsely accused by people who were your friends for a few years, like I was. I’m so glad I’m no longer friends with that brainless, misery-inducing failure. If this bothers him or upsets him or hurts his rep, good. Lets hope people learn from this. I mean, why is it that in the matters of justice and fairness, Canadians have this totally defeatist attitude? Even if the crime is minor, you don’t think that people should be entitled to decent council who’s level-headed and sane?

Then I got stuck up today by someone who was supposed to be doing a photoshoot with. And somehow, every time I call, it’s a bad time. I’m suspecting that she didn’t want to do any modeling  unless I’m proven wrong. If you don’t want to model for me, you don’t have to goddamn pretend to be interested.

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