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March 29, 2024, 12:57:10 PM

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MARRIED CUNT

Started by DukeDeMondo, November 29, 2019, 12:55:22 AM

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DukeDeMondo

I received in the post today something that warmed my cockles to such an extent that the guts all around them were sizzling and I could taste them when I swallowed. This was a card, and a card within a card. A card from my best friend wishing myself and my fiancée and my stepdaughter the most wonderful time of it on Saturday. This from my best friend, who I love. To do with Saturday, when a wedding is the hour of things.

The other card, well. I was overwhelmed. I cried. There are drawings of cocks in the inside of it that had me howling till the dogs were levitating in the houses either side. Thank you, CaBbers who made me that card, who wrote such beautiful things, who wrote such terrible things, who drew such handsome anatomical anomalies and forced them into shirts and ties and rings that only just were fit to hold them.

My fiancée looked aghast. "MARRIED CUNT" it said on the outside. I beamed and beamed and beamed. My fiancée said "what kind of a website is CaB, anyway?" and I said "only the best in any worlds bastard known or unknown."

She knows I spend a lot of my time on it, she knows I met a lot of my friends through it, but she doesn't really know what it is.

I think she was worried it was some kind of Grindr with jokes about Nigel Farage falling out of a plane crash. I wasn't able to say if it was or it wasn't.

Thank you, sincerely. MARRIED CUNT.

Not yet. Saturday. Saturday I'm getting married. Married and then a jazz band throbbing away in a sort of Silent Way kind of key while we all sit on sofas talking about boats or windmills. Keep in mind, now, that only two and a half short years ago I was on here posting every other night drunk as a pair of old boots with no toes in soliciting pictures of cocks from anyone that had a cock to show me and generally acting like a tiresome attention seeking twat.

I worried a lot of people. I worried a lot of my friends. A lot of my friends on here. Worried them. I didn't mean to, but I did, for my behaviour was the behaviour of a man circling a drain. I know I would have died if I had carried on as I was doing. I know it. Physically I could probably have handled it, although I was already shitting myself when I least expected it and waking up to the sound of my own projectile vomiting smacking off the walls. But mentally, fuck me. I was going. I was going to die. I was going to kill myself. I know that. It was going to happen. A nurse said "Statistically, Aaron, it doesn't look good... One day you're not going to be found in time." Sometimes I would wake up and my mum would be standing at the foot of the bed. This was in London. Called in the middle of the night to come over from County Antrim in case I didn't wake up.

Imagine walking about with that weighing on you. My fiancée saved me from that. She saved my mum from it too, in her way.

I heard a man recently say "Jesus but I loved it when they would call me a wild man. Jesus but you were a wild man last night. The state that it was you were in. The things Holy Christ you were up to. You're a wild man on the drink."

"If they'd have told me the truth," he said. "Wild man? You're a bag of shite."

Some people on here did call me a bag of shite, and they were right. One of them died and it saddened me greatly.

What is this about? I don't know.

I remember once on here I said something along the lines of "I would like to be a father one day," and Danger Man, I think it was, said "Duke, if I so much as saw a cat following you home I'd be on to the social services within an hour."

Now I have a stepdaughter and I don't give a fuck what anyone says, I am the best stepdad in the fucking universe. She's seven years old. I love her like I never thought possible. She's funny (walking around the shops to get her friend a birthday present but coming away empty handed; "Well I got something," says she. "Bloody bored." I thought that was fantastic.). She's amazing on the piano and the clarinet but we just have to take her teachers' word for it because she won't tell us anything about it or play anything for us. Absolutely refuses. Won't practice, and yet she's two or three stages ahead of the rest of them regardless. I love her.

We make films. The next one is about someone having to travel to Croatia because they've run out of patience with their child and they come to believe the patience they ran out of has made its way to Croatia. Something like this. She writes the songs too. I love her.

I love my fiancée. She works with people nearing the ends of their lives, and she works with people whose lives are only just in bloom. She's just opened a performing arts and dance school. When she met me she hadn't danced in years because a succession of cunts had trampled it out of her. We opened other up. I support her in everything she does; she supports me in everything I do. Fingers crossed, if the peer review goes ok I have a book coming soon, academic film / philosophy book. She reads every chapter. I released an album I'm very proud of. I hope it's ok to link it. An album about an album that never got finished because I wasn't well. Album about then and now. She listens to it as she walks about the town and she tolerated my hours of sitting with headphones in listening to fragments of masses I'd recorded on the fly just to get the right bit.

I'm finishing my novel.

My best friend, who sent me that card, she reads every word of that. It wouldn't exist without her. It's as much hers as mine.

This is just to say that if you are circling the drain, there's absolutely nothing in the world that says you have to keep circling. I managed to not go down it.

Am I totally fixed? No I am not, but I am better and happier than I have ever been in my life. The things that are wrong with me well, well, they're wrong with me. I have some bad habits and some strong diagnoses but I'm happy and I'm fine. And I was circling, man. Circling.

I miss it, sometimes. The circling. I miss being fucking wrecked. I miss the smell of stinking cheap fuck rot minging strong drink. I see people on the street who are walking into shuttered up storefronts and punching at the air and staggering this way and that and I get jealous of them. I sobered up two years ago. I've had two relapses since. Thankfully they were 40 minute jobs in each case. My head burst, I ran to the pub, downed whatever I could as quick as I could, blacked out.

For you can't be complacent. A man told me, and he was right: "You're in the living room with your feet up watching Tipping Point like you've won and you're done. Meanwhile your illness is in the next room doing press ups."

Anyway. I'm getting married on Saturday to someone who understands me to my atoms because she's exactly the same. The choices we had were to destroy each other or to spur each other on to the kinds of greatnesses we believe the other capable of. We might never get there, but we believe in other. We say "keep going, for fuck sake, go."

If this sounds like a load of bragging I'm sorry, it's really not. I just got a really, really lovely card from some of you and I wanted to thank you and I wanted to say that I will not let my friends down and if you are falling down down down down there's no reason why you can't get back up if you have the right support around you, if you're engaging with the right services, if you're attending the right groups. You can get out.  I know I was very, very lucky. I had people who loved me very much,despite what I was doing, and I loved them too.

I'm with someone who was almost as lost as I was, albeit in a different sort of way, and we propelled each other up out of the shit and the muck and into a radiance fit to blast your eyeballs to bits and pieces.

I'm scared of the wedding. Terrified. I hate having attention on me. That maybe sounds absurd coming from someone who was as relentlessly ME ME ME ME LOOK I'M DOING SOMETHING WILD ME ME ME as I was, but it's true. And yet I've written a song. I've prepared a dance with my partner. It makes no sense.

But I'm not scared of being married to her. Not at all. No difference. I don't intend to ever be without her.

What gnaws at me is that my happiness is built on the unhappiness I brought upon other people. I think often about the fella I was last in a relationship with, and the person before that, and how they were beautiful, beautiful people, and in the case of that man, at least, I cheated and lied and manipulated. But I was ill. Sick people will do things like that. And it's no reason to carry on doing it. The people who love me now don't deserve to suffer because of how I treated someone else three years ago.

Anyway he sent me a beautiful message when I told him I was getting married. He knows I was sick. He is a good person. I think most people are good people, but he is especially touched.

That's that, anyway.

I fucking loved my card. Our card. Thank you. The badge is amazing. The cocks are colours out of space.

I have nothing but love in my life, and I used to have nothing but guilt and hurt and shame and regret and thirst, but, boys, roaring thirst. I still get it sometimes. My therapist brings it up on me deliberately. K Cider. Has me fucking foaming proper American Werewolf fingers all extending. See right now? If one was beside me? Well, I wouldn't, but I would fucking love to.

A great and important thing I realised is that drink will not get me drunk. My head will get me drunk. Jealousy, insecurity, accusations with no weight whatsoever. Swirling like fucking sharks. Eventually they'll bite, and it doesn't matter where the booze is or what I have to crawl through to get it, I'll get it.

I love this place. I have friends I've found through this site that I count among actual real world friends that can ask me to do anything. I met my best friend through this site and I'd slice my head in two for her.

I read this site every day. I love writing on this site, I love reading what others have written. I love the music bit and the film bit.

So, I dunno. A postscript to the CAB ARSE LONDON, maybe.

One thing that gets to me is when people - people IRL, I mean, family members and what not -  imply that all that double-cocking I was up to at that time was a sort of dark night of the soul sort of job. Like Michael Fassbender in Shame sucking a cock because his soul has reached the end of its tether.

That is not what was happening.

I'm bisexual, we exist, my partner could just as easily have been becocked, but she isn't.
 
Favourite Film Of The Year: Rocketman

Favourite Album Of The Year: Kanye West – Yandhi (Bootleg) OR Richard Dawson: 20/20 (To the person who wrote the lovely thing in the card about how they like reading me write about music but don't listen to anything I talk about bar Richard Dawson, I implore you, listen to "Shoulder Charge" by Jessica Hoop if you haven't already. It's probably my track of the year)

I also love "This Is Not Who I Want To Be" by Joanna Sternberg.

Anyway. Thank you. If you're circling, circling, you don't have to be.

Twit 2


DukeDeMondo

Aw yeah, that too.

TL;DR: MARRIED CUNT. I LOVE YOU.

Cerys

I am so fucking happy for you.  There aren't enough of the right words to express how happy I am for you.

dallasman

Great news, Duke (the bits I skimmed anyway). Congratulations and best wishes!

DukeDeMondo

Thank you. Sorry for going on and on. Jesus Christ. On and on.

Mr_Simnock


dallasman

Quote from: DukeDeMondo on November 29, 2019, 01:27:24 AM
Thank you. Sorry for going on and on. Jesus Christ. On and on.

Don't be sorry on my account. You narrowly beat me out for longest, most rambling post today, and mine was a story about temporarily losing a bag in 1992.

tookish

I can't express how overjoyed I am for you, DDM. You are a beautiful man with a beautiful soul. You always have been.

It's there-are-no-words wonderful to see how your life has changed shape, and that you aren't as unhappy as you were.

I'll be thinking of you on Saturday, you soon-to-be MARRIED CUNT.

AllisonSays

Good man. For some reason I'm sure you're a brilliant stepdad. Take care, good luck with the wedding.

poo

Love you Duke. All the best.

Shoulders?-Stomach!

Good luck in MAWWIAGE mate

Life's hard enough without adding all that to your plate, but farewell and mind them old dregs.

Buelligan

Thank you for writing this Duke.  There were some things in there that I thought were really proper marvelous, it was all great to read but some paragraphs, that I won't quote, were even better. 

Be happy all the days and nights and when you can't, remember, it exists, you can and will return.  Hold fast to that.  Huge love to you all.

non capisco

So bloody happy for you, Duke-o!

checkoutgirl

Marrying a woman?!!? What the...? I thought you were a gaym'n. Congratulations. Give my best to your beard bird.


Lisa Jesusandmarychain

You're a lovely, beautiful ( in at least two senses of the word) feller, and I'm very happy for yer.

Having said that, could you please just get massively pissed on a vat of K Cider one last time and write about it on  'ere, just for old time's sake? Jolly entertaining, those posts, so they were.

Gregory Torso

Congrats, mate. Your posts are always a joy to read.

Small Man Big Horse

There aren't words to say how happy I am for you, a couple of years ago I was kind of mentally preparing myself for losing you so it's amazing how you've managed to turn your life around, and I wish you all the happiness in the world and then some.

Beagle 2

Hey man, so many congratulations to you. What an inspiring thing to read on a sunny Friday.


Danger Man

At the back of the church, dressed in black, quietly sobbing......the stick.

Doomy Dwyer

Aaahhh. Lovely. That's lovely, that is.

You scared the absolute fucking shit out of me that time, Dukey. But even with all the drink and the pain you were a funny, clever bastard and you deserve to be happy. So, be happy. 

bgmnts


checkoutgirl

I have no particular objection to you getting married. I may have a general objection to it but I can raise that issue at the appropriate moment at the wedding service in the church.

shiftwork2


Hard for someone to express genuine happiness for a guy they've literally never met without sounding like a cunt, but that post cheered me up so much and I'm delighted that you have love in your life. Good luck with the wedding and enjoy every second.

P.S. your stepdaughter sounds cool as hell

Dex Sawash


Had to stifle a bit of a cry at this and LJAMC's sister. Emotional exteremes of CaB.

Good lad. I still use the word hoop to my wife and she pretends to be appalled but she loves it really. I'm glad you're doing well. With an child, you are now officially more responsible than me as well.

Small Man Big Horse

Quote from: Bobloblawslawbomb on November 29, 2019, 01:06:30 PM
P.S. your stepdaughter sounds cool as hell

Just think, in eleven years time one of us could marry her and Duke would be our step-dad!

jobotic

That's fucking fabulous. Congratulations.

I mistyped that as fabpuss. And it is fabpuss.