Posted by: cousinbrandon | September 28, 2009

The Angry Alphabet: Things I Hate, From A to Z (M)


More specifically, my life.  See, the past two years have been, well, fucking terrible, really.  Wish I could “happy” that up a bit for you, but unfortunately it’s just plain honest.  At the end of December, 2008, I wrote the following rant — “The Year that (Almost) Killed Me” — for a journal my buddy was putting together.  (Incidentally, he never put out the journal, so thanks a lot, dick, for making me re-examine all of the shit that got me here.)  It was initially focused on 2008, but expanded beyond to an extent (August, 2007 to, well, now.)  Since then I’ve updated some of the information and tacked on additional examples of why I am the way I am.

Don’t get me wrong:  my anger and general displeasure with the world surfaced well beyond August of 2007.  Just saying that the past two years in particular have been nothing short of a nightmare.  And I’m talking about the sort of nightmare that wakes Freddy Kreuger out of a sound sleep. 

Hell, just last week Job called to tell me how sorry he was for me. And then sent me this shirt…

Thanks, Job.

So, without further delay, I give you letter “M” in the series.  (You readers with weak stomachs and a general disdain for the pathetic might want to look away.)

“The Year that (Almost) Killed Me”

That’s a lie.  To call it a year, I mean.  It’s been 16 months of unrelenting hell.  I feel like a piece of sheet metal that never comes off the line, but instead continues to endure the hammer of the metal punch over and over and over again. 

We all of us have had runs of bad luck — stretches of time wherein we’ve fully accepted Murphy’s Law as the greatest truism to ever exist.  Still, we convince ourselves that the proverbial light is visible, and that karma is, in fact, real and on the horizon.  But what does one do when that light continues to grow dimmer, and the horizon is as reachable as a sunrise in Alaska’s day-long runs of total blackness?

How does one become so jaded?  Take a look for yourself and decide whether or not it wouldn’t be best to do some mid-day shopping for a new “hunting rifle”:

  • August 2, 2007 – My step-father passes away.  I’m in his hospital room when the machines are turned off, and have the honor/misfortune of watching him die.
  • December 6, 2007 – My wife of four years tells me she no longer wants to be married.
  • December 2007 – During a horrible snowstorm, the tree in my neighbor’s front yard collapses on top of my CRV, damaging the roof and windows yet failing to total the automobile.
  • December 31, 2007 – While attending my cousin’s wedding (where I served as one of the groomsmen), I discover that my “wife” is not only seeing someone else, but went away with him the previous weekend.
  • March 2008 – My aunt passes away.  In the span of seven months, my mother loses her husband and sister.
  • July 4, 2008 – My good buddy’s 25-year-old brother overdoses and dies.  Apparently he was up all night partying on a variety of drugs.  When he finally fell asleep, he simply never woke up.
  • July 27, 2008 – After a night of drinking, I decide it would be a good idea to leave my house and drive back to the bars.  En route, I try to read a text message and crash into a parked car.  I total my car and wind up in the hospital for observation.  I am forced to purchase a new car.
  • August 12, 2008 – I return from a wedding in Seattle to find that I’ve been charged with a DUI.
  • August 2008 – I wake up at five in the morning with numbness in my hand.  Scared, I have my father take me to the emergency room where they determine my blood sugar is elevated.  After visiting my doctor for tests, he comes to the conclusion that I might have diabetes, despite the fact that there is no history of diabetes in my family and I weigh only 150 pounds.  (Note:  In January, I returned to the doctor for further testing where I was, in fact, diagnosed with Type II Diabetes.)
  • September 2008 – After continued numbness in my hand, I develop chest pains.  I schedule an echo/stress test at the hospital.  While they determine that my heart is fine, the doctors are unable to tell me what’s wrong with my body.
  • October 2008 – My grandmother, just days after celebrating her 100th birthday, passes away.  My mother has now lost her husband, sister and mother in the span of 13 months.  I have experienced four deaths in the same span of time.
  • November 17, 2008 – My furnace quits working.  A plumbing company (these assholes, incidentally) comes out to “fix” it, only to spill more than five gallons of oil in my basement in the process.  More than a month 10 months later, my home still reeks of oil.  Furthermore, the damaged tank is left in my backyard, where it still resides and has since been removed, thus resulting in, roughly, a 10′ x 10′ patch of dead grass.  I receive a $1,300 bill for a new oil tank and labor.  Refusing to pay for the labor, I am threatened to be taken to court.  No further action has been taken at this time.  Since then, I have paid only half the amount and threatened to counter-sue.  Additionally, my homeowner’s insurance does not cover “hazmat spills.”  Thanks for your useless service, Insurance Company.
  • December 18, 2008 – The oil company arrives to deliver oil, only to determine they are unable to do so because the fill-pipe outside is loose.  They return two days later and discover that the plumbing company has not hooked up the fill-pipe to the new tank.  Had the oil company delivered oil, 200 gallons of oil would have been poured directly into my basement. 
  • December 21, 2008 – My daughter and I return home to find that my furnace is out of oil and my house is a walk-in freezer.  What’s more, I discover that I have the flu.
  • December 24, 2008 – Driving home from the gym, my new, post-DUI crash car is plowed into after a careless driver blows through a stop-sign.  My car is damaged, but not totaled.
  • March 23, 2009 (Update) – I met with my Endocrinologist who changed my diagnosis to Type 1 diabetes.  I am now forever bound to a glucose monitor and insulin injections.
  • March 2009 (Update) – Return from Brooklyn to find $1,400 missing from my bank account.  I call the bank and discover I’m the subject of a credit card scam.  (Fortunately, it was rectified.)
  • April 2009 (Update) – A fire erupts at my father’s neighbor’s house and “spills over” into my father’s house, destroying the third floor of his home and displacing he and my step-mother for up to a year.
  • June 20, 2009 (Update) – After suffering from cancer, my uncle passes away.
  • July 2009 (Update) – Learn my ex-wife is engaged.
  • September 3, 2009 (Update) – One of my step-father’s closest friends — a man who spoke at my step-father-s funeral — passes away, again from cancer.  In two years, I’ve lost six friends and family members to various illnesses and accidents.

Me, on my last birthday. Yeah, a trashcan’s about right.

So, here it is only two days before the New Year, and rather than happily awaiting the start of what most would assume promises to be a new dawn, I, instead, nervously wonder what sort of evil awaits me over the span of the next 48 hours.

I hate you, 2008, and I hate the four months that preceded you (as well as the now nine months that have followed).  I hate you for the evil you imparted upon me.  I hate you for the run of awful, horrible, terrible luck you forced me to endure.  I hate you, 2008, for having the nerve to call yourself a year, when you are, in fact, little more than the Devil in disguise.

I’m by no means a religious man, but 2008 was almost enough to get me off the sauce and back to prayer.


Go fuck yourself, 2008.

Well, there you have it.  My shitstorm of a life.  Now, who wants cake?

Until the letter “N” rears its ugly head, have at it, you vultures!




  1. Thank you for making my shitty life seem fantastic! It’s a real comfort to me.

    When the Pavement 2010 world tour hits Philly, we’re gonna be there right?

    • It’s the least I can do.

      And there’s no goddamn way I’m missing Pavement. Granted, I was hoping they’d play Harrisburg.

  2. Hey man, I didn’t know about all of that. I’m sorry to hear you’re getting shit on and hope things look up. Maybe Kharma will have Bres throwing 4-5 touchdowns a game for you for the rest of the year.


  3. At least your not Roman Polanski. Right?

    • Or Mackenzie Phillips…

  4. That really is a miserable stretch, like the Barry Bonds on steroids peak of misery. My own seems tame by comparison: I crashed my car, lost my GF and my job, and had to move back in with my parents within a month last summer.

    • The parent stuff alone puts you right up there. I shiver at the thought. Oof.

      • Well, to be fair, I was 24. It is unfortunately a situation faced by myself and several pals, since we all got cut from our entry level jobs.

  5. Sorry to hear about some of the stuff you’re going through/have gone through.

    Life really sucks some times.

  6. Keep playing the Powerball. You’re a lock.

    Although, you winning the NFL Confidence Pool last week might have been your “big one”. Hey, enjoy the (net amount) $130! Treat yourself!

    • I’m thinking about getting myself a nice candy bar with the winnings. Oh, wait. Diabetes. Fuck!

  7. Brandon,
    I tend to have a morbid curiosity. Probably the reason I enjoy programs like 48hrs Myst. LCS show drove me over to check this out.
    I enjoy your blog.
    Not really much I can say as a word of encouragement, nor do I suspect youd want it.
    Instead, Ill just thank you for compelling writing and tragedy told with humor.
    Hope 10s a monster for you.

  8. […] remotely possible. (And, yes, I realize the last time I did “M” the topic was “Myself,” which should only further indicate how much I hate […]

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