Confessions II: The Joke was Never Funny

On July 4, 2014, I published the first "Confessions" blog article:
https://applebaumparadigm.blogspot.com/2014/07/confessions-this-joke-isnt-funny-anymore.html


Almost five years later,

this is Part Two of  "Confessions"

To all those who question my December 2018 release of the name of my date rapist:

There are still too many political plays going on for me to give a full statement surrounding the timing of the release of the Identity of my date rapist.  Just know that the decision I made was the right decision for the dynamics in play in my life.  It was God's timing.  It was perfect timing.  Also,  on that night of the rape, my date rapist asked me this question:

How does it feel to be fucked by someone who does not give a damn about you? 

I was going to answer, but I remember him holding his head down in disbelief that I was going to speak.  So I never answered that question.  Now,

He should be able to answer to his own question.

Futhermore,

The Joke was Never funny.

To my attorney who showed up in small claims court to tell the judge that Coastal Federal Credit Union was within their rights to renew a ten year judgment against me:

North Carolina State Bar has multiple grievances on file against you.  My grievance being one of them.

The Joke was Never Funny.

To Carolinas Healthcare Systems (now Atrium Health):

My Blog articles surrounding my part-time hairdresser employment experience made it into a US Department of Labor report.  

The Joke was Never funny.

To the 2016-2018 Mecklenburg County Sheriff Administration:

You had no way for Mecklenburg County citizens to file complaints against your sheriff deputies.  Your administration had a lot of corruption.  Now, there is a portal for citizens to file complaints.  Now, there is a new sheriff administration in office in 2019.

The Joke was Never Funny.

Confessions? This Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

Photo credit:  http://www.keepcalm-o-matic.co.uk/

In honor of  Independence Day, I wanted to share some thoughts . . .

To my Date Rapist:

You raped me on more than one occasion. You got comfortable taking advantage of me at your leisure until one day that one final encounter ripped me to my soul.  You were an expert in the hand position to inflict enough pain into the shoulder joint to make me and your obvious past victims cooperate without any signs of bruising.  You knew to keep an eye on me in case I made an attempt to call the police.  Then you knew when you were arrested at the hospital wearing your fraternity letters that:

This Joke wasn't funny anymore.

To my Townhouse Neighbor:

You wanted to have your fence built over my property line to avoid the extra charge of anchoring the fence to your concrete patio.  My "no" was not enough that you had to call over another neighbor to add to the confusion resulting in the police being called and the police finding "no signs of injuries."  Yet, out of anger,  you and  the other neighbor let your imaginations go wild allowing massive lies to be fabricated, and the story grew bigger and bigger.  After a newsletter to the entire subdivision stating the truth of the matter caused massive embarrassment for all the neighbors involved, and the fact that the encounter was dismissed.  You all had to realize that:

This Joke wasn't funny anymore.

To my Hair practitioner that overcharged and under delivered:

Upon collecting and organizing all of my supporting documentation that the final delivery was out of specifications, I repeatedly asked for a partial refund.  My cordial refund requests were repeatedly ignored.  The producers from the Judge Mathis show were repeatedly turned down.  Your attorney was slow to return my phone calls.  Finally, when the sheriff served you with a small claims complaint showing our local court date and then you realized:

This Joke wasn't funny anymore.

To the multi-billion dollar non-profit, public healthcare System Human Resource department:

I asked why the hairdresser position had to be posted when I had already been working there for five years as a hairdresser.  Your answer was that you preferred that managers post all positions. Then the position was filled solely based on preferential treatment which ripped me to the core of my soul.  Then the position came available for a second time within a year later, I asked when would the position be posted again, and your response was that you are not required to post all positions.  Well, after several EEOC complaints, several articles, several correspondence exchanges over a four year period and counting, your department has to have realized:  

This Joke wasn't funny anymore.