Plot Outline ~ Episode 4 ~ The Shit Hits The Fan

Based entirely on the machinations of Desperate Douchebags of the Valley:

Watch in horror as the character we all love to hate Catty McNasty befriends the naive and unsuspecting – well, she did suspect in season three but that was covered in the season’s finale – Kari TrustYourGutbberg. Deftly worming her way into Kari’s world, borrowing household items, staying at Kari’s home, Catty hides her true colours for a time.

After several years of friendship in a wider circle of other blissfully unaware friends and acquaintances, Kari’s world explodes leaving her bereft, terrified of leaving her home and suicidal. Reaching for her friends in these hours of greatest need, Kari is puzzled and later profoundly hurt by the resounding silence from her circle of support. Efforts to connect are rebuffed, including a spectacularly rude rejection from Catty when Kari offers help via an email.

Pieces fall in to place over time as it’s revealed that her “friend” has been entertaining Kari’s  former spouse, all the while never offering a word of support or concern – let alone offering a meal or movie to her! Suspicion grows in Kari’s normally empathetic and trusting heart as taunting photos appear on Catty’s social media of activities that Kari knows her spouse is doing. Meanwhile, what the world doesn’t know is that Kari and Rocque still speak on respectful terms and Kari is not afraid to ask him the tough questions. The last straw is seeing Catty trying to insinuate herself into the lives of Kari’s children – the line has been crossed but more evidence of Catty’s lack of any shred of human decency is yet to come…

In the explosive finale, Kari learns that not only did Catty try to move into Kari’s home, family and bed – before it even had a chance to cool – her most disgusting and desperate move has been to initiate a smear campaign against Kari. It is with complete shock, dismay and nausea that Kari learns the depth of Catty’s depravity… little wonder so many of Kari’s friends turned their backs! Kari has been “shacked up with another guy”. Oddly, not a single person knows this, including Kari or said (silent, invisible, fictitious) guy. Poor Kari already wounded, gun shy and lonely, checks with her true friends and family and they verify that no, she isn’t living with anyone, not in a fugue state and not with TV amnesia to boost ratings. In fact, Kari would have to Google “guy”, “man”, “fella” to be sure what one is!!

It all becomes clear after a chance meeting and Kari, heart broken by the betrayal but finally vindicated, feels she can now begin to reclaim her life.

Tune in next week to watch the fallout from these revelations. Will Catty finally be hit by the Karma bus? Does anyone know how a chance remark about her selfish nature, bizarre jealousies and desperate clinginess has given Kari hope? Will the other women in The Valley wake up to the shark in their goldfish bowl?

Stay tuned for the following messages from our sponsor Tide has Turned.

10 May 2015
~ kei

“Don’t try to screw up someone else’ life with a lie when yours can be screwed with the truth” ~ unknown

And really, really… don’t screw with a writer.

The Preface

I paused for a moment, watching the haze of condensation on the outside of my wine glass.

“Yes. It’s true that I made some bad decisions and telling myself that they were made with best of intentions… well, we can talk about that crap later. Bottom line is, I never pretended to be someone’s friend and then moved in on their husband the second that the wife was out of the picture.”

The interviewer leaned forward, setting down his glass of wine. This part of the story was off the record. He looked at me from under lowered brows, elbows on knees, hands loosely clasped. His phone was off, he’d kept his word.

All I wanted was for my side of the story to be heard. Too many people had formed opinions based on their own narrow little worlds, their own wants and needs. Not a fucking one of them ever stopped to consider that I loved my husband. Always had, always would.

Sometimes, there just has to be a bad guy and for whatever reason… some of my  so-called friends had decided to cast me in that role.

As if they’d been able to convince themselves that somehow, I deserved to be lied to. Deserved to be cheated on. Deserved the betrayal that they thought I’d committed.
I guess it’s how they justified their betrayal of me…

… to be continued

~ kei
6 February 2015

~~~~~

Shelter me in love that’s shaped like the bay
Keep my heart safe from the storm and the waves

A Lifetime Ago Lake

A Lifetime Ago Lake ©Karin Bole Tupper

 

Aside

So…

When you say that you haven’t had sex in three years and you’re trying to get into a gal’s pants; it’s important to be specific. If you mean that you haven’t had sex with gnus in three years, or wildebeest or Peruvian wombats; please do make that distinction.
Whatever it is that you HAVEN’T had sex with.

Because…

Like your girlfriend – and the other one – your flings round the world, your wife and every other normal average woman; we assume that when you are making that statement to US, that you mean you haven’t had and aren’t continuing to have, sex with another woman!

Crazy right?!

I know MY response would have been significantly different. I would have you double bag that thing. Yup. Cut the fingers off a Playtex glove and get that covered wouldja?

Well I’m off to the clinic.

Turrah!

~ kei
7 December 2014

Stop Thinking With Your Little Head

As always: I am writing from MY experience and it is with men. I am perfectly aware that there are female predators out there. There is zero requirement to point out the obvious to me.
Though I don’t have to defend, I will expand to say: I have many wonderful men in my life including my beautiful son, my Dad, brother, even my former husband.
Predators are NOT the norm or the majority.

Okay Ladies. There’s this thing. It’s better than Hermès on sale or finding Manolo’s at the thrift shop.

It’s called “The Sisterhood”.

Can we all please just get with the program, stop being catty, high school morons for a moment? Seriously, I never much liked my gender but that’s increased a million-fold since I started on WordPress.

There are bad men out there. They look like men, walk like men, may even speak in full sentences, write beautiful poetry or paint pretty pictures but they are not men.
They are predators.

If you’re just on here “For Play”, stop reading now – I don’t care about you. If any of you actually believe that you can have a meaningful relationship or that you know one fucking thing about someone on the internet – you are wrong and you are putting yourself and perhaps those you love at risk,

I’ve had well-meaning people comment off the cuff that you can get a sense of a person from what they share in venues like this. That statement is complete and utter garbage. I am an amazingly warm, loving,intuitive human (I’ll give you references if you need ’em) and I have been royally fooled once and had another person try to pull the same game again.

Here’s my proposal:

I have more experience than I want in this. I have resources. If this message reaches you and you have even the tiniest bit of doubt about the man you are communicating with, please – please – message me for those resources.

I swear, I don’t want anyone else’ man. I don’t stalk. I don’t chase boys. I am not a crazy bitch. I do not bite. Period. Hell! In the 3D world, I’m regarded as rather “a catch”!
But… that’s the primary way that these animals find their way in – divide and conquer.
What I am is someone who was victimized wholly and completely and in this little pressure cooker, I get to watch history repeat itself.

If you hear any of these, they are red flags:

I’m in a loveless relationship
I’m in an open relationship
None of them understand me
You’re the first one to understand me
I’ve never connected so deeply with another
I would marry you if I were single
It’s a business trip
I don’t know why she left me

There is a Sisterhood – it should transcend petty jealousy and contrived competition – we cannot sit around and trash men and their shitty behaviour when we turn around and do the exact same thing. Open your eyes! If a dude is going through women faster than loo tissue – who has the problem? Do any of you honestly believe that there is an endless stream of crazy stalker bitches just waiting to tear apart a man and that you are the only good, decent, understanding woman out there? Get serious. If that were the case, the human race would have imploded long ago. So many women are disgusted by men who “think with their little head”. What do you think you’re doing when you go after some dude without a care or a by your leave to the wife, girlfriend or partner? AS IF!! You just believe what some dude tells you and don’t even ASK her? Nice Human Race. Real integrity there.

Please, ask good questions and for the love of whatever… don’t fall for those same tired lines again. These guys get us because we ignore our own intuition and we piss on the Sisterhood the second a dick walks in the room. Is this what you want to teach your daughters?

I thought not.

I have resources, I have good ears for listening. I have solid facts and information.
You are welcome to use that “Message Me” tab way up at the top there.
Of course you don’t want to know the truth – that buggers up the fantasy doesn’t it?
I’m here to tell you, the fallout is a fucking shit ton worse.

Talk to each other!

~ kei
7 December 2014

I cannot thank deeply enough, the brave women who chose to hit “send”. You’ve validated all my suspicions and my responses. We’re all wiser and safer for that.
The resources I mentioned are all encompassing and if you are a man who has experienced or is in a relationship with someone who lies, cheats, is internet-obsessed, takes no responsibility, is always the victim; you may be involved with a Narcissist (or a shitty human being) these resources welcome and are helpful for men too.

Still Burning Bright

I have had to relearn trust in my instincts

There was trepidation in breaking it off

Was that niggle in my brain just residual fear?

Let’s face it

I’m pretty canny, quick wits, quick feet and can scent a predator but

I got took down by the King of Big Game Hunters on the Internet Serengeti

Not this time though

Validation comes from the strangest places
I find the truth of my life in strangers’ faces

Too bad that other’s can’t yet see
But that one revelation is enough for me

Sniffed you out like Tanqueray
Now I’m The One That Got Away

I may be twice shy but I’m not twice bitten
You messed around with the wrong Kitten

~ kei
6 December 2014

Tiger Woman black white

Tyger, tyger…

 

My Brother’s Keeper ~ Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers prompt for 17 October 2014.

What is Friday Fictioneers? Rochelle presents a challenge to write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end, based upon a picture that she provides on her blog.

Here is today’s picture prompt (below):

FF Photo Prompt ©Douglas M. MacIlroy

FF Photo Prompt ©Douglas M. MacIlroy

My Brother’s Keeper

Word Count: 99

Genre: Fiction

I knew he’d been planning to leave. That he did it so suddenly, without warning is what threw me off. It’s a year later and nothing’s changed in the room that was his prison. The ladder is still at the window and the shell compass. “Use it to come find me”, he said, the day before he jumped off the ladder into another dimension.

One where school gym teachers didn’t tell you that it was okay or that they’d hurt your little brother too if you ever told anyone.

I wonder if these shells point in the right direction…?

©KbT
15 October 2014

Hunted, Hurt, Haunted

Hunted
Just prey
In his sights
Lured with his words
Loved only as a pawn
His long distance trophy
An unwilling captive
Soul maimed
Caught

Hurt
My heart
Ripped to shreds
The gift reverently given
In hands filthy with his
Keystrokes to his whores
Lies of magnitude
The Devil
Envies

Haunted
Despised revenant
Creeping and crawling
Disturbing my midnight dreams
Smiling his protestations of love
Staining newborn clean thoughts
With his memory
This lingering
Ghost

~ kei
7 October 2014

Proposal of Peter the Poetic Predator

Permit me a rant?
Seeing as I’ve pretty much outed myself and there are several here who know the score… Some witless fool, who should be shown what he thinks of her via his emails to me, is promoting the piece of excrement who ruined my life, on her public forum. Short of slapping her silly (which is frowned upon) I can only say this:

Who in their right mind insists on portraying a liar, a thief and a fraud;
As something wonderful, talented and deserving of laud?

Even with the truth right in front of their eyes
They insist on perpetuating more and more lies

How can you sleep at night, knowing you promote a liar
The evidence is everywhere, found by Professionals for hire

Who would be so callous, cruel and low to flaunt this monster?
Are you clueless or heartless, I really do wonder

~ kei
30 September 2014

Poetic Proposal 1

Poetic Proposal 2

Poetic Proposal 3

Why?? Writing…

The king is dead, the joker said
Atlas shrugged and shook the floor
Poe is shouting off with her head!
The Red Queen says nevermore

Nights in white satin
Kiss my Cheshire grin
This is what happens
When I let you in

The magic in the mushrooms
Makes me laugh until I puke
My tears are blood and mascara
Isn’t that a tragic fluke?

(c) KeiB 25 March 2012

Alice's Mirror

Stood Up

This story was originally a letter that I wrote to my then-boyfriend. It was after yet another failed attempt to come see me and seal the deal on our long-term, long distance relationship. The excuses were simply becoming too outlandish. What I didn’t know then was that he is a Narcissist Predator. There was no intention of coming here, it was just another in a litany of lies. He liked me spread eagled on his computer screen like some bizarre foreign butterfly in his collection. I rewrote this, softening it a little for inclusion in “A Grain Of Truth”, published last year. I think I wanted to spare my feelings, I felt raw, stupid and over exposed with the real version. I didn’t want anyone to think I was some sort of loser. This is the reality and legacy of being targeted by a Narcissist.

Anne Lamott wrote: “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

This is real. It happened to me. Someone tore me and my world apart for their enjoyment and I am still trying to pick up the pieces. This could happen to anyone and it is but one incident in a two-year relationship. I was left emotionally and physically destroyed. My lack of enthusiasm for the “reason” that this callous twat gave for his not showing up, was further cause to be subjected to his rage and abuse.

This story is ugly and the repercussions of the relationship continue with innuendo and slander whispered still. Truth however, defends itself, thankfully; so does evidence. 

This was a day in my life last year, with the painful and embarrassing bits added back in. They are the True True…

 

When I woke, I was baffled in the muzzy, “not on all thrusters’” way that one sometimes is upon waking. I just couldn’t figure out why it was so hard to lift my head. Then I realized it was because I wasn’t in bed with my face on my pillow. I was lying on my living room floor and my cheek was stuck and sticky on the hardwood.

I spent all day at work, trying like a maniac to clear my desk to have no worries for the weekend and daydreaming about the evening. I scurried home to clean and do dishes and to shower, then went to a little style shop close by to get my hair done because I wanted to look my best for our first Real Life face to face. I carefully applied my makeup, praying that I could disguise the strain that is showing around my eyes and mouth from the stress of the last week. There’d already been two failed attempts to get here and then finding out about the “No Fly” ban that you were informed about by the US Border guards. All the hassle, calls to your lawyer… we’d both had several sleepless nights over that.

I put on new lingerie – matching, a luxury I rarely indulge in and a new dress, that I can ill afford. Stupidly, I bought you flowers. I had it in my head that no woman had done that for you and I wanted to be the first. So when you finally decided to allow me to know what was going on – after my several texts and many calls to you through the day – it was 4:30 or so.

The time that you said you’d be landing at Toronto.

When I jumped out of my chair to grab my phone, jumped because I’d been running on adrenaline and excitement all day, what I was expecting was you saying “Here safe and sound baby.” I had been in the middle of searching the taxi schedule to surprise you with my bravery and with my stupid flowers.

Instead, what I got was a text to say you weren’t coming. You never even got on the plane.

Have you had a panic attack? Of course you have. You mentioned it a few times in the last couple days. That feeling of terror and disorientation? The roar of an ocean pushing against your eardrums? Of howling loss the week before when you were held back at the gate? The fear and the wish to die that you told me you felt? Just like that P____, only it wasn’t circumstance or a crazy stranger that caused it for me. No. It was you. You made me feel like this on purpose.

No warning, no discussion. Just “I’m not coming.”

And that’s what happened. Panic. The ground opened up and it was like I was on a runaway elevator, the faster it fell the hotter I got. Staring and staring at those words, while my eyes were trying to push out of their sockets as the symptoms started, as the heat built up from my feet to my head, and the intense pressure. I was dizzy and disoriented, I dropped my phone and fell, trying to hold back what would have been vomit if I’d eaten anything all day. Thank god I didn’t, I had been too excited and busy. When I fell, the tears were starting and my heart had started to race and skip, wanting to jump track like a runaway train, I could feel the pressure in my head get worse. My nose started to bleed, all over my new dress. I panicked as the drops fell faster, and then started to stream. I ran the back of my hand over my nose, in a vain attempt to stem the flow, got blood all over the bouquet. At the same time, I could feel a warm trickle down my thigh and blind fear joined the disorientation and disbelief. In the last two months, as you know, every time we’d have fight – or more correctly, when you’d rage at me for no reason; I would start to bleed as if I was having my period. My OBS/GYN was worried and a round of blood test and biopsies had been started to determine the cause. I wasn’t actually very aware of all of that because I was tying to wrap my head around grief that was like broken glass in my guts that you were pounding with a baseball bat, gasping for air because I couldn’t even cry, my body was so pulled into itself that the tears couldn’t get out… and then I fainted.

I came to on the floor, in a mess of blood, snot, tears and crushed flowers.

Roses. I’d chosen a bouquet of three each of red, white, pink and yellow; passion, purity, perfect happiness and friendship. A kaleidoscope of meaning and intent… They looked how I imagine a bird of paradise in flight might look, when I threw them off the balcony…

 

The original ending: And that was my Friday night P____. The night that I was supposed to be meeting you for the first time, the beginning of my new life. So pardon me if I’m not exactly jumping for joy at your great success but don’t ever dare try to say that I haven’t supported your career or that I held you back.

 

~ KbT

Excerpt from “A Grain Of Truth” ~ Book Two by Karin Bole Tupper

~~~~~

For information and help should you suspect that yourself or someone you care about is being targeted / victimized by a Narcissist, please visit and read Kim Saeed’s blog “Let Me Reach” and also the books and Facebook page of Sam Vaknin.