A terrorist is a fucking terrorist

be he Muslim, Protestant, Catholic, mother or father, sister or brother.  President-elect,  boss, supervisor, wife or friend.  I bewildered myself looking back over my mother's evil past. I remember incident after incident and want to scream.  I must admit my grandfather did tell me to leave at eighteen and to never come back.  He refused to call her a demon but, I knew what he meant.

Martha was so mean she was hilarious.  Hilarious to people on the outside, not people targeted.
We were in D-2 one night.  Yes, I was nineteen and out drinking with my mother.  I thought she was cool.  Anyway her side piece, a man she later made her fourth husband,  invited her out.  Well , he kept dipping to the back of the club, Martha followed him, discovered he was entertaining another woman while entertaining us.

Martha went berserk , cussed him out , busted him flat in the mouth with her fist.  Went outside,  took the tire iron out of her Cadillac and busted out all of his windows. Outran the military police that chased us off the post in a jeep.

She went and spent the night with an ex-husband to establish and alibi.  Yes, you guessed it, we were all sitting up in church that next day just like nothing ever happened.  Of course she denied it for the longest but, when she got old she bragged about it.

I share these stories with my daughter and she responds; "Why didn't y'all just kill the bitch?"  We were terrified!  Telling did not cross our minds, we just wanted to survive, reach age eighteen and get grown and gone.

How we got lured back into her lair is a long, long story.