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Image via Shacker Slasher
This isn’t quite “Gone Girl” type stuff, but this chick could be like Amazing Amy’s protege maybe. I mean, damn. This email is very long (and worth the read) so let’s get right to it.
Subject line: And the award for Craziest Slampiece of the Year so far goes to…
Former Sig here from the damn fine state of Texas. I’ve been traveling all over Europe the past four months with my girlfriend and you may be able to give me some advice on how to proceed from a recent experience. This story is what they call a proverbial doozy. Enjoy my fucked up pain…
We’ve been staying on our own in rural France for the past few weeks, and last night I came home to a drunken demon from a circle of hell that I did not know existed. After traveling a few hours away to see old family property, I thought I’d be coming home to find my girl ass up on the couch, perhaps making dinner, or anything you’d expect a proper slam piece to do. Boy was I wrong.
Now let me pause to say that I’m quite fond of the occasional beverage. I’ve had plenty of nights filled with shots, doubachery, more shots, twofers (the magic of fucking two different girls in one night), followed by more shots and the eventual HBCB from Whataburger. So I understand the need to knock a few back every once in a while. However, my lady doesn’t hold her liquor well, and I knew once I saw that particular look in her eye that her gun was already cocked and loaded looking for a target to destroy. The first thing she tells me is a rather suspect story of a man trying to “kidnap’ her when she apparently attempted to walk the two mile journey to the local store to buy cigarettes. I didn’t buy it from the changing details and fact that she hadn’t told me anything about this all day while I’ve been gone. I play along anyway. After asking me the same trio of questions about my day five times in a row, I refused to engage with her anymore. So I simply stood up, and said I was going upstairs. Apparently this is where I went wrong. I was countered with a quick “well then I guess I’m following you because I can’t let you go anywhere on your own,” she said while blinking 137 times. “Excuse me?” is about all I could muster from my surprise. “I can’t trust you. Plain and simple. Trust and believe.” was her response. This was a phrase I would hear at least 40 times throughout the rest of the evening. Of course at this point I can only imagine what she’s been bottling up all day just waiting to dump a huge pile of shit all over me.
The short explanation of why she was upset: She got into my (password protected) laptop after her “kidnapping” incident to watch a movie and looked up my web history while I was gone and found that there was porn on it. That’s it. Now I’m your normal red blooded American male who enjoys a tug every now and again, and the past few nights she’s slept in another room as to not wake me when she gets up in the morning. Naturally, at 2AM when I assume she’s asleep and unable to partake, I went to my old Apple friend for a little old times sake. After four months of being around each other every day, non-stop, this didn’t seem like a big deal, right? Wrong. She begins to unload a barrage of nasty insults and hateful aggression that would make anyone think I banged her sister and best friend right in front of her and put it up on my Facebook page. Everything from the typical name calling, pervert accusations, dick and body insults, and finishing with a wine glass swipe that gets red wine literally all over the side of the room around us. I’m a fairly secure person so none of this was getting to me beyond feeling disappointment in her. The only things I could muster to say was “stop” and “you’re going to be apologizing for all of this tomorrow when you realize what you’re doing.” She then gets me to the point where I call it. “Fine. We’re done. You’re single now. Happy?” This got me my first punch in the mouth. I’ve always been a guy who thought if I ever got hit and didn’t deserve it then I’d be done. Physical abuse on either side is fucked up, so I stayed true to my word.
I began to walk away right past here into the long hallway so I could isolate myself and got my second punch to the back of my head. For the next thirty minutes I was followed by a demon in the flesh throwing insults and threats straight from the cast of The Jerry Springer Show and Cops. Every room I tried to go into she blocked. Every time I told her to leave me alone she refused. Every door I opened she slammed shut in front of me. She almost breaks the paneling off of a door that I actually get locked so I have to open it as this isn’t our house and she’s causing serious collateral damage. She keeps going on and on about how nasty I am and telling me that she was never going to leave my side until we got back to America, “trust and believe.” All I could do was think of Ray Rice, Johnny Manziel, Greg Hardy, and any other man who may or may not have been pushed to hit a woman. She was asking for it. She wouldn’t stop. She was nasty, hateful, mean, and putting her hands on me non stop. No matter how badly I wanted to get away from her she wouldn’t let me, and I knew I couldn’t lay a finger on her without putting my whole future at risk. I had to stop and think, “how fucked up is society today that a man can’t defend himself from a batshit crazy, physically abusive woman?” If the tables were turned, I would have gone to jail. I would have been crucified and labeled as a creep and a dangerous predator. She was just labeled as a drunk bitch. You might be saying, “just leave.” Well we’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere in France. Barely anyone speaks English and it’s 1AM. She hits me for the third and fourth time.
Then the really scary part happens. I threaten to call the cops, to which she replies “do it, you’ll be the one who goes to jail. you don’t think i’ll lie and tell them you hit me? I’m the woman. You can’t do anything.” Fuck. Out of options and her refusing to leave me alone, I call my family on whatsapp hoping it will make her walk away out of fear of embarrassment. The call cuts out as she’s unplugged the wifi. Remember, we are rural so there is no cell signal. I’m literally trapped. I run out of the door and jump the fence. Walking up the road in my slippers, I finally get a cell signal. When I get my family on the phone to alert them of my situation I get two texts from satan. “come talk to me instead of beating me” and “my eye is swollen from you beating me.” Holy shit. I am beyond fucked. I’ve never felt the helpless feeling of being an innocent man with no options all while being falsely accused of domestic battery when I was the one being assaulted. After two hours of going over options with my parents and trying to communicate with neighbors as to why I’m walking outside their house at 2AM in my slippers, I decide the best option for me is the go back and fake it until I make it. Hopefully she’s asleep.
Nope. I climb in through a window in the garage as she’s locked all the doors, and I don’t get past the living room before being spotted with a “what the fuck are you doing?” I remain calm and take it knowing I have no choice, and proceed to get verbally abused for the next hour while I just pray that she falls asleep. The biggest problem I face at this moment is that her face is FUCKED up. It’s bad. One of her eyes looks like someone cold cocked her with a left hook and the other looks like she took a solid jab from Ronda Rousey. How the fuck did that happen? I’m beyond petrified. The simple version of the rest is that she didn’t let up and we finally went upstairs and she falls asleep. Right now you might be saying, “you should’ve called the police.” Yeah, sure. Let an American male call the French police and possibly get thrown in a French prison when she lies and says I hit her. A situation that has landed countless innocent men in jail around America for years. I knew she would snap back to reality once she fell asleep.
Obviously, when she woke up she realized what had happened. All day long she’s been crying and pleading for forgiveness. Putty in my hands. Begging for me and my family not to hate her. Her face still looks awful. She says she doesn’t know how it happened. I don’t believe her. I assume she knocked herself around in case I called the cops down the road. This is some lunatic shit.
My question is obviously what the fuck do I do??? My parents say she isn’t allowed in their home now for obvious reasons. She said some super fucked up shit that no matter how drunk she was is something you just don’t forget, and she put her hands on me for no reason other than I watched some blond lesbians go at it a couple times recently. This situation is so fucked up. We’re supposed to go to Barcelona next week before returning to our hometown in America for a few days. Then we booked $700 tickets to spend a month in Panama in June. Just leaving her ass isn’t exactly easy. Help me with your thoughts.
Oh, and our one year anniversary is on Thursday…
There’s a video, too. I promised not to share it, but I did get a chance to watch it. It’s basically 40 seconds of a girl banging on, and hysterically crying and yelling through, a locked door, begging our emailer to open it and talk to her. Our emailer is asking her to stop and calm down. She does not.
Below is a screenshot of her texts to him, as he agreed to let me share it. Note the time he received the texts and his phone having no service.
You’re going to have to eat that $700 because you’re absolutely not going to Panama with this girl. If you still want to go, go alone or go with someone else, even if I have to pay myself to have her ticket transferred to someone in her place. It’s not happening. You’ll be broken up at that point.
Carry on for the duration of this trip as if that night is water under the bridge. Be nice, be accommodating, and continue on with the relationship. The second you step through customs when entering the United States, and I mean the literal second you finish passing through customs, you break it off and never look back. This was over watching porn, man. Porn. Just porn. You just watched porn.
Also, if you have any apologetic texts from her about acting out that night, save those for evidence in case she tries to pull some shit. This chick is not stable. Good luck and sleep with one eye open. Fuck..