Road Rage and Big-Eared Old Fornicators

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'I certainly don't get tailgated anymore!'

‘I certainly don’t get tailgated anymore!’

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Bud likes to road grouch.  I don’t.  I figure people mostly do the best they can, so I just watch out for them.  Bud likes to hurl useless epithets like “crazy old woman of some sort” and “big-eared old fornicator” at men.  The insults are mostly wasted on me, but I have pointed out the high improbability of big-eared old guys meriting the compliment of fornicator, but I guess he is just being generous. Even so, it doesn’t sound fair. Why is crazy or fornicator gender-specific? I do kind of take exception to the limitations on ladies.  I guess he isn’t into equal opportunity.
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When I yelled at God

Amazing story.

A Blog About Healing From PTSD

I have cried out so many times to God, asking Why. Why all the pain, why all the suffering. The only answer I have gotten is that God is love, and I can trust Him.

I went through a couple of years of heavy binge drinking after my dad died in January of 1988. Two years after his death, as I was going through yet another divorce from yet another abuser, I drank all the booze I had, which wasn’t much, maybe two beers. Then I walked out into a freezing snowfall, in coastal Maine where I lived at the time. I walked for 17 miles that night in the snowstorm, along an unpaved road that was so isolated, there weren’t any houses or power lines for most of that distance.

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As I walked, I yelled at God about all the things that are WRONG in this life. I yelled…

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