Ted Gresham – April 2026

Fuck Emotions

I mean it. I don’t know what it is, getting old or what, but goddammit I have gotten soft. I have gotten emotions. And fuck that. I don’t want them.

OK, go back about eleven or twelve years, when my son was fifteen. His room looked like a trunk had exploded. It was literally impossible to see the fucking floor in his room. He and his sister both, trashed their room like you would not believe. One night I told him to clean the fucking thing up. He refused so I demanded. He went into a ranting rage, tearing every fucking thing up he could. He went outside and I followed him. He told me he wish I was not his father, that he wish I was dead. Later in that horrible evening he took a wooden desk I had on the front porch and destroyed it. Broke it into little pieces.

The county sheriff said they could do nothing. Later in that blessed night, or in the wee hours of the morning, I took the pieces of my desk and burned them in a little fire. Along with them I burned my emotions. From then until recently I really have not given a shit about anything. I just go through the motions. Only my wife and my family did I dare care about. But all of my family is dead except my little sister. Didn’t help. But I got through because it was really easy not to give a shit. Lately, though, for some fucked up reason I’ve gotten down and bawl-bag emotional. And I hate it.

This morning my daughter did a bad thing. A stupid thing. She backed into her brother’s truck. He’s been staying with them this week that he is home from the service. Being the lighted fuse he is, he gave her hell. And being the poor sweet easily offended thing she is, it was worse. I tried to get them to settle down. Ahh, but later today he picked me up and we visited my sister. Then went to lunch with my wife. Then I started to get in his truck and the fucking handle broke off the door. His handle. On his truck. My fault. So he exercised his right, as he said, to scream his fucking head off and then anything I said he said it was making it worse. And fuck me but that goddamn hurt. Fuck.

You may never look at my website anymore after reading this but you have to understand something. When someone’s life has gone to shit as often as mine is, it’s a bad idea to have emotions. At this time in my life, it’s worse. I cannot elaborate on that now. So I am self-medicating and trying to get past it. Maybe.

Listen my friends and countrymen. Let me share something with you. Every human being you see who you think is so fucked up, maybe rude sometimes, maybe dressed improperly, they are a fucking human being. And most likely they live in a world of hurt. Give’em a break, will ya?

In my case, I had hopes and dreams and wishes and those mother-fuckers are all fucking dead. Dead. I’m an old man writing up a website about everything that has gone wrong in life and hoping it helps someone else not wind up as me. It’s no fucking fun being me. Don’t be here.

OK, so I don’t know what else to say. So have a good day, folks, and try to be nice and quiet even to the motherfuckers who are too down in the dumps to give a shit. That fucker might just be me.

PS:

Exception. Motherfuckers like that bastard so-called president, aka prickadent, he gets no slack. Neither does his sycophant followers. May he and his gang can …can’t complete that, secret service is watching. No slack, man, none at all.

Hubert, aka Ted

May 12, 2026 …damn is it really 2026? Why am I still here.

OK, I’m done.

bye.