It literally was that easy. She had the choice to claim ignorance, come up with a “story,” then leave me in her apartment…… with my own risk of dying there alone. So much more simple than doing it humanely, empathetically or sensitively.

Once Wife #1 bailed, contacts came further and fewer between. Of course, online associates joined occasional discussion frays. Yet, nights that included them, in any sense, became more seldom & random over time… further & fewer between, as I became less necessary to them. After my first divorce, leaving Las Vegas was nowhere near as fun as the movie made it seem. After losing my job via health issues with a company I’d relocated for, my now-ex-wife abandoned me there. She hated the heat, and as she became less comfortable, she became less loving. I can say with certainty that if my health hadn’t cost me my job, we’d still be in Nevada… & she’d still be locked in our bedroom stoning herself silly while claiming “depression” on her Xbox.

Nonetheless, as soon as she abandoned David Hojak, he had well-intended plans… and they all failed. “Plan A,” at first, was to get licensed for life insurance sales brokering, then go right into making big money. Then, after some days that saw “Feels Like” temperatures climb to as high as 137º Fahrenheit… a day came when I passed-out while commuting home. The details of the accident I got into are still confusing to me. I woke up on a stretcher while being loaded into an ambulance, glimpsing at what was then/now my totaled vehicle.

After the accident, a woman that I’d been in touch with began talking to me… about the accident, and other things. Eventually, she invited me to come “stay” with her. Recalling the unspoken “crush” she had on me back then, I jumped at an invite to visit her in California. Both of us were older, neither was impeded by love-interests, and we were finally free to “explore” each other. I didn’t mind the added details of her now having children in her picture, if even awkwardly. My interests right then were her and I, then and there, as soon as possible. It seemed like the happiest possible ending that could come of a miserable situation.

Man, was I mistaken, to say the least. She merely delayed the displacement & plagiarized our past upon my exit.

Night one: I met her kids (who were weird, to put it nicely).. and someone who looked like an older sister. This bitch frowned a lot. I tried hard to be nice. Her continual appeal was that she’d needed to get laid for three-quarters of a century… or wanted to see something die by her own hands, then feast upon it barehandedly. I quickly got the impression that her “sister” would go out of her way to not speak English. So, I purposefully used collegiate-level English words to leave her confused with what I’d said… in a language they absolutely understood. If not less educated, I knew it made them feel less “American,” and I was fine with that. Considering how they were probably speaking about me in their language, I considered it fair play. In totality, they were uglier than me. They were racist, and I was smarter. Plus I was railing one of them.

Night two: we went out to dinner at a steak house she favored, and she prettied-up all nice for me… like her dress wasn’t going to hit her bedroom floor the very instant we got back to her place. It had been long enough, or anything… only about three decades by then. By the time we got back to her place and the children were “situated,” we got right to it. Her and I had literally been waiting to go at each other, minus clothes, since adolescence. I won’t get too graphic about the happenings of our evenings here. In my book, I’ll be happy to share more detail. For now, all you get is this… for nearly three months, she was as satisfied as a kid in a candy store at an amusement park… lollipop & all, with plenty of abrupt “hydration”… until the day came, and I “malfunctioned” on her watch.

That day, almost three months into me having distributed Hojak Shaft© on a nightly basis, “water works” and all… she caught a glimpse of my health condition & vanished. Once she saw me in such an altered, neurological state… such cerebral vulnerability, no psychological awareness of what was going on around me… who I was to her didn’t matter anymore. Our history of knowing each other instantly became meaninglessly expendable to her. She & her children disappeared. She left me to die alone in her apartment. I was left there for three days, immediately following a medical emergency. Instantaneously after such a health crisis, I was as expendable as expired milk.

Eventually, she, and people like her, will be seen by the world for who they really are. Things like this will leave no one wanting to be anywhere near them. Then again, she does have huge breasts… so there’s a possibility they’ll be tolerant for as long as it takes to “score.”

Three days had gone by of me waiting for her to call or return home, after my medical “emergency.” On the night of day three, two officers showed up at her door. I answered it, they verified my identity, and I was given 20 minutes to gather my belongings, vacating the premises. Now keep in mind, I’d just had a neurological emergency of sorts. I hadn’t been to a hospital thereafter, gotten any medical attention post-episode… or even gotten assistance with a 911 call at any point. After knowing each other since our teens, my own medical emergency meant absolutely nothing to her.

She was a high school fantasy at one point in life to me, a teenage crush. Now as adults, that bitch didn’t care if I lived or died, as long as she got dick & squirted. She was ultimately as dependable as a chocolate teapot, with the honest word of a mime. Before my very eyes, the illusion of a reliable, trustworthy woman absolutely evaporated. Suddenly and out of nowhere, she was the anti-reflection of everything she’d sold herself as…… both within, and throughout. Given her ethics, it was hard for me to believe that she was authorized to reproduce in this country.

Then again, this is America…… land of the fee, home of the slave.

Before I knew it, I beheld my packed & filled roll-away luggage bag… full of all that I owned, at that point. I hit the streets for the first time in my life. Soon after being out there, I called an uncle… a linearly & geographically distanced relative who was, at that time, willing to help me. Soon after, he’d go on to medically desert me, just like the woman did… but on a more personal, “part of the family” basis, which hurt even more. Again, another story for another time.

Ultimately, those who deserve indeed reap what they’ve sown, however ineptly. Their type won’t evade “fate” forever. I am grateful to those who’ve helped me… were it not for them, my story’s happy-ending wouldn’t be possible. Yet, the way those few who abandoned me in some cases, in some of my darkest hours… as I depended upon them… absolutely unforgivable. I almost died in some cases. By design, I will be long gone when fate befalls them. Karma really happens.

People like her will continue to make lives difficult for those whose eyes wander too hopefully, too eagerly. It’s unlikely that she’ll ever find *TRUE* satisfaction, no matter how far she treks. Those like that have empty hearts, shallow minds and simple thought-processes… and on top of that, they don’t take care of themselves, so they die early. Now, you don’t want that, do ya?!??!?!?! Come on. You can do better. So can I, and I have.


“Cracked like a cat with my head in a sack, and I feel like I’m tied to a railroad track… all your fears are lies.”

~Chris Cornell