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M.A.D.D.

door Nellie Cake

Reeksen: Russian Watch (6)

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Memoirs From My Outhouse; True murders, crimes, drugs, incest, alcohol, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, narcissistic abuse, beatings, rapes, and nasty words. I have half a lifetime of experience, the other half sober. I'm a humble Appalachian inbred Hillbilly, ain't nothing wrong with that. People write similar stories, but are not an inbred Hillbilly, my story is unique.

Names were changed so family and people from the past will shut the hell up. Hillbillies make moonshine, grow weed, carry double barrels, stay bare-foot, don't wash overalls to impress city folk, and don't eat road kill lesson it's soft. I'm not blue, no defects and not a sympathy monger, I have a legit message if you get it.

I was kidnapped, beat and raped. The same man kidnapped, beat, raped and shot my two nine year old Hillbilly girl friends. I witnessed the brutal murder of an elderly man. Four children were stolen, the fifth robbed a bank with Jesse James. My first husband's arm was shot in Vietnam and beat me with his hook and did shocking things to me with his friends.

My second husband carried an arson, beat me, shoots towards me, and hunted me like an animal. Many pregnancies I lived in snow then hitching in snow hunting for my babies. Cock fighting, drug dealing and strip dancing were survival in the wake of being annihilated by spouses. My stomach exploded putting me in a coma for nine months.

A 16,000 pound building fell on me causing gangrene, surgeries, procedures then worse case M.R.S.A.. I maintained employments and writing through destitution, pregnancies, savagery, prisons, and Northern winters. Life's accomplishments: I won six turkeys, nine cock fighting trophies, ten cakes, nine ten pound bass, birthed five kids, own gloating rights to angling stories and jaded memories.

Victims have a voice without people judging or alienating us thinking they're Holier that others and authors of my genre are a bad image on their perfect life. I can't compete with third world country's tragedies, but my story is horrifying and shocking. ( )
  NellieCake | Dec 21, 2018 |
Memoirs From My Outhouse; True murders, crimes, drugs, incest, alcohol, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, narcissistic abuse, beatings, rapes, and nasty words. I have half a lifetime of experience, the other half sober. I'm a humble Appalachian inbred Hillbilly, ain't nothing wrong with that. People write similar stories, but are not an inbred Hillbilly, my story is unique.

Names were changed so family and people from the past will shut the hell up. Hillbillies make moonshine, grow weed, carry double barrels, stay bare-foot, don't wash overalls to impress city folk, and don't eat road kill lesson it's soft. I'm not blue, no defects and not a sympathy monger, I have a legit message if you get it.

I was kidnapped, beat and raped. The same man kidnapped, beat, rapedm and shot my two nine year old Hillbilly girl friends. I witnessed the brutal murder of an elderly man. Four children were stolen, the fifth robbed a bank with Jesse James. My first husband's arm was shot in Vietnam and beat me with his hook and did shocking things to me with his friends.

My second husband carried an arson, beat me, shoots towards me, and hunted me like an animal. Many pregnancies I lived in snow then hitching in snow hunting for my babies. Cock fighting, drug dealing and strip dancing were survival in the wake of being annihilated by spouses. My stomach exploded putting me in a coma for nine months.

A 16,000 pound building fell on me causing gangrene, surgeries, procedures then worse case M.R.S.A.. I maintained employments and writing through destitution, pregnancies, savagery, prisons, and Northern winters. Life's accomplishments: I won six turkeys, nine cock fighting trophies, ten cakes, nine ten pound bass, birthed five kids, own gloating rights to angling stories and jaded memories.

Victims have a voice without people judging or alienating us thinking they're Holier that others and authors of my genre are a bad image on their perfect life. I can't compete with third world country's tragedies, but my story is horrifying and shocking.
 

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To my five children who were stolen:
Mary Etta Stamper/Spikerman,
Shawn Lee Scott Rose (Died of cocaine overdose),
William Allen Johnston (Died of cocaine overdose),
Chastity Merrideth Johnston,
Mischelle Marie Shaffer
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Noid told George I had a bag of cocaine and weed, but I told George, "Search my house and drug test me."
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Homelessness is not a black, white or race thing. It's not a woman, man or gender thing. It's not a gay, straight or sexual thing. It's not a rich or poor thing. It's not a political thing. It's not a thing, it's people.
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