House of Zathras

Oh, vey.

Okay…I know I’ve been very vague about what’s happening with Goob. But until we knew where things were going, we had to be careful.

Basically, for about a week, BR and I were grandparents. And then we weren’t. And now we are again. At least, according to the psycho skank ho that Goob was stupidly screwing dating before he left for the Army back in March.

The same psycho skank ho who contacted Goob while he was gone to say that she had been raped. And was pregnant. And then had a miscarriage. And oh yeah, also had a brain tumor and would die in just a matter of days. (See what happens, Goob, when a girl allows you to screw her on the first date? You lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas!)

PSH kept trying to contact Goob after he left. He would block her number, and she would call from a new one. And being a typical young male, he kept ‘falling’ for her entreaties of suffering and pain. He felt sorry for her, I guess. Then finally, right as he was beginning out-processing to come home on leave prior to going to Korea, she contacted him again. Just to let him know that she had his son, but she didn’t want anything from him.

Yeah, right.

Goob was so upset that he had ‘vasovagal near syncope‘. Basically that means the stress levels were so high, he passed out trying to take a shit after being constipated for about a week. (See what girls will do to you, dude?)

While he was transitioning home, the PSH started contacting BR and me. When we tried to press for details, she was very vague. But none of the hospitals had a record of this baby being admitted. (She was trying to tell us that the baby was having breathing problems, and close to death. But all the while, her FB had comments about her going to Aspen for her birthday, going to concerts, etc.)

According to her, when PSH first started contacting us, the baby was at death’s door. Twelve hours later, the baby was eating and breathing all on his own…pretty good for a preemie born at the end of September. And only being 3 lbs., 11 inches at birth, according to her. Hmm…at 11 inches, it would have had to be missing its legs…or its head, which could account for the ‘breathing problems’ PSH kept referring to. Can’t breathe well without a head, I guess.

Anyway, PSH hung up on me when I asked for details. Later saying her phone was dead, but she was texting Goob during that time AND making FB updates with her phone.

So…we reported her to the Sheriff’s Office in her area as well as DHR (the children’s protective services here). We told her we would be doing this, as well as retaining an attorney in her area. She begged us not to turn her over to DHR…pretty telling, especially since she’s still a couple of weeks shy of being 18.

At that point we sent her a ‘cease and desist’ letter. If there is a child, she can contact the Army and get a paternity test…which she kept saying she had to meet Goob to do. Despite her being in nursing school. And being very responsible, because when she was 10, she worked 9 hour days in her parents’ store. And made straight As in school while working there AND taking care of her two nephews at the same time. And finishing high school early to get into the nursing program. And telling us the baby had ‘dyssemia’, which is a psychological problem. And then on Thursday, the baby was dead. She texted Goob to tell him this, saying she needed his address to send him the birth and death certificates.

Sheesh. Totally, bat-shit crazy.

Goob is in town now. He was out last night with yet another girl when PSH started texting him again, saying she was down here now and wanted to meet him to discuss paternity test/custody issues. On the beach. At night. Yeah, right. Because the baby wasn’t dead after all, it was still alive, and she was going to sue him.

Goob keeps calling us about this. We told him to ignore all calls/texts, and for heaven’s sake, don’t respond to her in any way. Stupid shit! We did tell him to arrange for a different, more public meeting place, and then we (BR and I) would go meet her with documentation and a cop in tow. She refused to meet, and then texted Goob that it wasn’t HER doing all this stuff, it was her COUSIN! And her cousin is supposedly telling Goob how beautiful PSH is and how he can’t have her, even though he would fall in love all over again if he just saw her once. And Goob is BELIEVING this crap!

BR and I have thrown up our hands at this. We’re trying to help him deal with this, and he’s making plans to stay out screwing yet another girl while responding to PSH’s texts and calls. He even hinted at staying at BR’s late mother’s empty home, so that PSH couldn’t find him. As BR told him, Goob wasn’t turning his mother’s house into a ‘den of iniquity’.

The Navy base is just over the border. They have cabins at one of the recreational facilities there for around $20 a night. Take your drama over there. We’re not fielding the PSH so you can run around with other Skank Hos, psycho or not. He’s totally demolished the bedroom he’s sharing with Buck…you can’t even walk safely across the floor because it’s a foot-deep in Goob’s stuff. He’s leaving dirty dishes on the table. Stuff like that.

We want to see him, because he’ll be stationed in Korea for three years. But the only night we’ve really seen him was Wednesday, when he arrived. Since then, he’s either sleeping or running the street. Buck so idolizes him right now and wants to see him. Goob had promised to take Buck to his Young Marines meeting this morning, and Buck was looking so forward to showing off his brother. Goob promised TWICE last night he would do this. But when I got up this morning, Buck was ready to go and Goob was still in bed (don’t know what time he came in). I tried waking him up, and he just made nonsense noises. I didn’t yell or pour cold water on his head, even though I was sorely tempted. I simply said, “Don’t make me wake up your Dad to get you out of bed.” Next thing I know, he’s out in his car, waiting on his brother.

But if this continues, BR will tell him to find a hotel or go to the base. He can take his drama elsewhere, because we’re done. If there’s a child, of course we’ll support him and help him. I thought reality had kicked Goob in the butt, because when he talked to us before he left Arizona, you could hear the weight of his actions in the tone of his voice. But now that he’s here…he’s avoiding consequences of his previous actions by having similar actions with someone else. I guess the little head at that age simply overrules the big head. *sigh*

Does it ever end?????

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 14th, 2009 at 3:23 pm and is filed under Angst (mine, kids', whoever wants it, come and get it), Things I Hate, kids. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.