Fourth Step

4 Jun
image stolen from

image stolen from

I’m on the fourth step of Alcoholics Anonymous. You make a list of everyone you resent, and why.

1) Lauren, My First Girlfriend

After we broke up she told me a parking attendant raped her. In one of those big concrete structures, the little office they have. On one of those wheely office chairs with the one broken caster. He hit her and held a knife to her neck and raped her, she said. Then she passed out. When she woke up he had left a note. It said “you get what you deserve bitch.”

The parking attendant raped her. So she needed someone to be with her whenever she drove past the scene. So: could I please come. She was on her way to see her new boyfriend, at the college across town.

I went. I think I even drove. When we passed the place she crawled down under the dashboard, sobbing.

We got to the boyfriend’s place. I haven’t told him, she said. Please don’t say anything. He came down. Was expecting her alone. It was me and her and she’d been bawling here eyes out. I couldn’t explain. I was her ex fiance and we’d been broken up for a week. We’d gotten in a fight so bad I tried to jump off a ledge and got taken to a mental institution. He knew this.

It didn’t occur to me until after that the story was weird. That it was too As Seen On TV. Who leaves a note. Who leaves a note that on the nose. Didn’t figure it out until later. She faked it. She just wanted to torture me. Him too.

She told everyone that I beat her up. Her next boyfriend was a big smack dealer who wanted to have me killed for that.

When she was a needle junkie she fucked all her dealers. About six. At least one of them must have had Hep C. She did get great shit though.

She told her parents I was a stalker. Then when she was staying at their place she called me. Told me she was gonna kill herself. She did this so I’d have to call her parents and tell them, and they wouldn’t believe me. They’d instead yell at me for being a stalker while I begged them to save her life. Her mom gave her dad cheese every morning so he could make a healthy stool. He wasn’t scary. But still.

She was always having a pregnancy scare. They were all fake but one. I never even blasted in her. But the one true time, she slammed a fifth of vodka and intentionally OD’d and had a miscarriage. My son’s blood is still crusted in some basement rug in Pittsburgh, probably.

Oh well.

She went to the Rainbow Gathering the first summer we were apart and fucked a bunch of hippies. Meanwhile I was working third shift at a candle factory.

Every time I wanted to fuck her I had to start out by giving her a 45 minute gentle back rub. Then slowly, slowly hint at nibbling on her neck and ears, etc. Soft; if you went too hard she’d lose the mood. You had to stay on top of her to rub her back forever. But you couldn’t get on top of her to fuck. It made her feel like she was being raped, she said. She took forever to cum. I was young, I still thought that mattered. I came too fast most of the time and it made me feel like shit and she made me feel like shit about it.

She would bang heroin in front of me and then loll around all sloppy in a sundress with her tampon string hanging out. I don’t know why I’m mad about this but I am. Keep menstruation to yourself.

She had a framed 4×6 photo on her dresser of her high school ex boyfriend with Scott Weiland. The boyfriend had opened for Stone Temple Pilots. His face in the picture was burned out with a cigarette. She hated him but she always talked about his fucking band.

We were engaged. Right after we broke up she got engaged to the next guy. Instantaneously. She’d always make plans to bring him around when she knew I’d be somewhere. Then we’d go sit in her car and she’d cry about the relationship. She’d put her head in my lap crying and I’d hold her and want her back.

Then she’d suck my dick. That part wasn’t so bad.

Anyway: God, what a twat. I was going to marry this woman. I’m supposed to pray for her now.

Dear Lord: drop her in a fire.

20 Responses to “Fourth Step”

  1. Hosswire June 4, 2014 at 6:57 pm #


  2. bucky June 4, 2014 at 7:01 pm #

    taco grande, thanks for being back, man. your post-alcoholic writing is really hitting its stride. real echoes here of my tortured post-marriage with my beautiful, evil ukrainian ex-wife. reading this helped, somehow.

  3. Anonymous June 4, 2014 at 9:39 pm #

    Good prayer

  4. shitty mitty June 5, 2014 at 4:58 am #

    I must say I enjoy your sober writing much more

  5. Atlanta Man June 5, 2014 at 6:17 am #

    This is getting better and better. I think this whole sobriety journal , stream of consciousness, new life perspective while foreshadowing an (inevitable?) possible relapse life on the edge but total clarity thing is awesome. I know you don’t give a fuck but your writing from first post to now is like watching the Beatles going from pop British Invasion music to dropping acid and becoming introspective, but in reverse because you quit the drugs. Please do not fuck Yoko Ono or get shot, just keep posting.

  6. MD June 5, 2014 at 7:00 am #

    Awesome post. Keep ’em coming. And stay sober, I think your writing is actually better now.

  7. mindstar June 5, 2014 at 10:14 am #

    And may she burn for eternity.

  8. Can I Get A Refund On This Rape-Whistle? June 5, 2014 at 11:43 am #

    “I went. I think I even drove. When we passed the place she crawled down under the dashboard, sobbing.”

    DT, you nailed it with this, and that is why you are God. Any man who failed to realise he was being played by his gf in that situation is not a person whose blog I would read. You are the motherfuckin’ Truth Daddy.

    So many women (by which I mean 100% of those I’ve fucked more than one time; not sure about the rest) are able to cry on demand. Every single former gf of mine did eventually confess to having this ability. Ask your bird about her previous use of crying-on-demand on her ex-bf (i.e. before they have the chance to use it on you) and she’ll likely admit to doing it. It is arguably the single most effective weapon in women’s arsenals. It is also something that men ought to learn how to do. When I observed how women wielded it to great effect, I found my inner Frank TJ Mackey and went with it. True, women tend to be naturals at it, but the fact is none of them expects it from a man, so you stand a good chance of completely blindsiding them with it. Women (and men) agree, crying trumps everything (which is why they do it). See “Stanislavski acting” for more info.

    • Anonymous June 8, 2014 at 11:06 pm #

      Learn how to cry. Yes, that completely seems like something a man should learn. Makes perfect sense. Yes, take acting classes, become a method actor all so you can cry on cue. Outstanding.

      • Yes, learn how to cry. I didn’t say to mean it. Just learn to do it right, at the right time, with a woman you can easily manipulate. Once you’ve tricked her into caring about you, your strong emotions can become a weak point for her. Works the same with anyone. Just the same as her strong emotions bleeding through all the time become your weakness, forcing you to console and support and apologise non-stop. Or drive her to her boyfriend’s house. That sort of shit.

        And everyone should learn how to lie convincingly, for the same reason. That takes practice, not fucking “classes” or whatever you’re on about. Haven’t any of you ever done anything devious, immoral or totally illegal and got away with it? Christ, get out from behind the computer once and a while and live a little.

        And don’t take “acting” classes. What are you, a person who needs to take lessons for everything? Read. Learn the methods. Work out a routine that will convince anyone. Frank TJ Mackey, bitch. Stanislavski, bitch.

        Can’t believe I’m having to explain all this shit. You do know what a sociopath is, don’t you?

  9. ben sucks dick June 6, 2014 at 9:04 am #

    what you’ve left out is that she looked like a female version of warwick davis, willow-era.

    • ben? fuck that guy. in the ass. he's gay. June 7, 2014 at 10:20 am #

      GREAT. now you’ve got me picturing DT getting blown by warwick davis in a ratty dress in the driver’s seat of his mom’s ’84 camaro as sad alt.rock plays drearily in the backdrop.

      not a knock against DT’s taste in women since he was young, but he definitely shoulda gone with banging the female-version of Dinklage who had a penchant for heavy make-up and cafeteria french fries. the girl in his creative writing class that never gave attention to because he was too busy fretting over his ex/fiancee.

      you know who i’m referring to, Tim.

      oh and ben? yeah he sucks dick. cuz he’s gay. a gay fag. the gayest of gay fags.

      i hate that guy. hate him and his ugly face. fuck that fuckface.

  10. Anonymous June 6, 2014 at 10:06 am #

    You’re better than that

    • ben? fuck that guy. in the ass. he's gay. June 7, 2014 at 10:22 am #

      he is now. the past is the past. gone in the faded wind. distant memories so long away in time you’re not even sure they ever happened.

      the beauty of alcohol consumption is that it destroys past memories, making way for new ones.

      new year, new bangs. AA’s got DT reflecting on past traumas. maybe to lay them to rest, or maybe as a reference point to evoke change and progress.

  11. MasterSlave June 7, 2014 at 3:58 pm #

    This is really fucked up and yet funny. Classic tacos

  12. eec June 19, 2014 at 1:09 am #

    Ah, all the weird manosphere MRA woman hatred makes sense now.

    You know, not all women are crazy heroin addicts that lie about everything and get other people in their life to clean up their messes so they can never suffer the consequences.

    Obv shouldn’t have been engaged to this woman bc she is obv extremely toxic. The idea is to remove all toxic relationships from your life. Addiction is toxic and so was this woman. She’s been gone from your life for so long, but you’ve carried the imprint of her, the ghost of her pain — the pain she felt for so long inside that she never confronted, which in turn made everyone in her life experience that pain with her, dragging them (and you) through the mud with her. Misery loves company. She was terrified of being alone and was desperate for any fix. Because she was addicted. Because she couldn’t confront the realities of her own life.

    You can blame the heartbreak on your “weakness” under the power of “womanly wiles”, but no, it was the addiction; it was the heroin. And she’s a narcissistic bitch. Fuck that trick. I hope she got the fucking consequences she deserved. My heroin addicted ex got thrown in prison and faced life and he finally got what he deserved for leaving a path of destruction everywhere he went. When he got locked up, god damn was it fucking sweet. Vindication is lovely. I regained my faith in the world and society — ~God is good. Justice served.~

    Fuck that bitch.

  13. eec June 19, 2014 at 1:37 am #

    This is the cleanse you’ve been searching for all these years! ^____^ I am so ecstatic for you 🙂


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