The Dutch Files

Remember THIS? My relaxing Spa day?

Yeah, it wasn’t as relaxing as I had hoped it would be…

First of all, the night before, I got into a huuuuuuuggggeeee fight with The Ex… Because when I went over to take The Kid to his place his motherfuckingassholefucktard dad.. WAS NOT AT HOME!!! I had this gut feeling all week that it was gonna go all apeshit. In fact, over a glass of red wine on Tuesday I was actually discussing all the Ex-shit with The Chief, as hís ex is similar. She in fact wasn’t home when he was supposed to take the kids over to her place after our trip to De Efteling… Our Ex-es are totally fucked up. They should be convicted to marry eachother… or summin’. So I was there last night, with The Kid, looked up at the appartment building and saw a totally dark dark dark appartment. Steam came from about every cavity of my body. You see, my gut feeling about the asshole Ex n.e.v.e.r fails me… Turns out that he had left his girlfriend’s place too late in the day and then got stuck in commuting traffic (funny thing, on a weekday between 5-6 p.m. right?)… Now you see, he arrived hours after the agreed time, so that means that he in fact wouldn’t even have been on time had he not been stuck in traffic… Fucktard asshole. I guess the girlfriend was, again, more important than his child.

So, needless to say that I was not in the best of moods last night. Nor was I this morning, cuz he had felt it necessary to send me a txt message saying I shouldn’t make such a big deal out of things like this, as it wasn’t like I had somebody at home waiting for me, so that couldn’t have been the problem *blank stare*… Well, fucker! I DO MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF THE FATHER OF MY CHILD MAKING MY CHILD FEEL LIKE SHIT! AND I ALSO MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF MY ASSHOLE FUCKTARD EX ACTING LIKE I DON’T HAVE A LIFE! There, I said it! Eat that!

I arrived at the spa, got undressed in the locker room, got out my bathrobe, my towels, my book, put my hair in a bun, and walked in, letting out a sigh of relief… Until I noticed… half of the spa was being renovated! WTF?! As I was really in need of relaxation and had already booked an hour massage, I decided to get over it and try to have a good time anyway… Which I did… for a moment… until the one and only fucktard in the spa had found its way to yours truly… I was in the shower and he got in the shower next to me. So far so good, until… he was looking at me with this sicko look. My fucktard radar was setting off the alarm immediately. I decided to ignore him… He decided to put the moves on me…

Spa Fucktard: “So ehm… you seem like a hottie… wanna get in the tub with me?“ *wink*
DutchBitch: “Ehm, no thanks. I’d prefer it if you just leave me in peace”
Spa Fucktard: “Oh come on. We could have a hot time”
DutchBitch: “Not interested”
Spa Fucktard: *touching my thigh* “Oh come on, baby. You look plenty naughty!”
DutchBitch: “Keep your paws of my body, fuck you very much!”

Then I walked off. He walked after me to the spa bar. The boss of the spa sure enough smelled exactly what was going on and came over to talk to me when I walked up there and darted Spa Fucktard a nasty look. I told Spa Boss what had happened and Spa Fucktard was escorted out of the building half an hour later. Yeah, I am not a self proclaimed Certified Fucktard Magnet for nuttin’!

I spent the rest of the day reading my book near the spa fireplace, having a few drinks, doing sauna, swimming and the 1 hour massage. With the masseuse that wouldn’t shut up… for one fucking second of the HOUR massage! Fuck That!

Then the highlight of my day came when I was going back to the lockerroom to check my mobile, which I always do when The Kid is with the Fucktard Ex, and on the way to my locker I slipped… I stepped into something squishy and moist, slid thru the lockerroom, was júst able to keep myself upright and recover… Then I looked to my left… nobody… I looked to my right… and sure enough there was a dad with his daughter… the daughter looked horrendous, white as a sheet and was bending forward, hands on her knees…

And then it dawned on me… I HAD FUCKING SLIPPED THRU HER VOMIT!!! There was fucking fresh wet chunky vomit squished all in between my toes, underneath my feet, everywhere!!! Eeeewwwwwwwwwww fucking eeeewwww!!! I was SO disgusted that at first I didn’t even hear the dad throwing as many “OMG I am so sorry!”-s at me as he could.

I decided that that was fucking IT! That my day at the spa was done! I took a shower, thoroughly cleaned my feet, useless as I think I can still smell the vomit on there, got into my clothes and went home…

So ehm… not a very relaxing spa day… Just my luck… Fucktards and vomit in between my toes… So how was your day?

This is the voicemail of DutchBitch.

The Bitch is OUT.

She can’t take your call right now.

Please leave a message after the beep.

And behave yourselves while she’s out.

You knów DutchBitch will be watching you!

Go see Turnbaby, the bitch of the week.

* ! BEEP ! *

Yesterday was our Fall Break Day Out - day. I spent the day in De Efteling, a themeparc in the south of The Netherlands.

The Kid and I went over there with The Chief and his 4 kids. So that would be 2 adults, and 5 kids in the ages of 7 (girl), 9 (boy), 9 (boy), 11 (boy) and 15 (boy)… Can you already get the feel of the day? Huh? Yeah, like that…

We drove over to The Chief’s place where we arrived at 9 a.m. Now, 9 a.m. clearly is way too fucking early for The Chief’s kids.. I came walking into the living room and found one jumping bean 7 year old cutie girl that immediately lodged herself to my leg and 3 boys that were sagged into the living room couches like they’d just come back from a week’s hell on “Survivor” or whatever… They mumbled out something that resembled a combination of “Hi” and “Goodmorning”… or summin’

We, The Chief and I, dragged everyone into his Chrysler Voyager (I refused to drive over there with 2 cars and shoving them all in my Fiat Panda… well uhm… Nope) and were off. The drive was livened by one of The Chief’s kids either hitting or kicking one of his other kids, and either one of them crying out “Daaaaaaaddd!!!” and The Chief rolling his eyes in utter despair while driving, while trying to sort things out verbally… At some point I decided to throw myself in the mix and at times turn around and dart a nasty “shut the fuck up and get over it”-look at the culprit of the moment, which kinda worked out…Of course, when you are in a car with 5 battling kids, close to the exit to the themeparc… the exit to the themeparc is closed due to an accident and you have to take a 45 min detour to get there… Hallelujah! Both The Chief and I were so fucking relieved when we had finally arrived and we could jack everyone out of the car and get some fresh fucking air! Holy Shit!

Needless to say we started the day in the themeparc with a cup of coffee. God knows we deserved that!

Then The Chief informed me that “he was under no circumstances going in a.n.y. ride in the themeparc”… Great! Another chicken specimen of the male kind… What is it with men? Fucking scared little shits!

The mood of the kids changed once we’d walked into the themeparc and I spent the better part of the day taking all the kids into the rides. I did the “Pegasus” (a completely wooden rollercoaster), the “Python” (a regular rollercoaster), the “Half Moon Pirate Ship” (a swinging pirate ship), “Bird Rok” (a rollercoaster in the dark), “Dream Flight” (elves and dwarfs scenery), “Fata Morgana” (1001 nights scenery), “Pagode” (a ride taking you 10 stories above the parc for a magnificent view), “Villa Volta” (a house with rotating walls that makes you feel you are turning upside down), the “Fairytale Forrest” (speaks for itself, right) and whatever else the parc has to offer… I vetoed the rides that have a potential to get wet in. Cuz, I am always the one getting dripping fucking wet. I am always the one in the part of the boat where the biggest wave slashes over the edge… Doesn’t matter which part of the boat I am in… the megawave will always find me…

I almost lost my job… I think… when I tipped over a huge cup of Fanta over the pants of the oldest son of The Chief… And The Chief almost got into a fist fight with a lady in line in front of him, who decided to smack his youngest son over the head because he had bumped into her… Fucking bitch! The Chief decided to put her in her place verbally. He’s very good at that… In fact, for the duration of the wait I think he shut up the whole line. I have never seen such a quiet place in the themeparc… ever…

Other than that we spent the day shutting up the kids asking for sweets, snacks and drinks all the time and caving at their requests at times… Oh and taking one after another to the nearest toilets… Cuz, kids… they never need to go when one of the others is going… They always need to go when you’ve just walked away from the toilets… I think the line “But I just ásked you if you needed to go!” was the sentence used most yesterday… Well, that and the word “NO!”…

The way back in the car was as enjoyable as the way there with the exception of the fact that this time we didn’t get into a 45 minute detour -slash- traffic jam… At the Chief’s place the bottle of red wine was opened faster than the speed of light! Nothing like alcohol to soothe ya after a day with 5 kids… Gah!

So ehm… go take a look at my FlickR account. Just click the 4 picture frame in the sidebar where it says “Say Cheese!”. Go on… Go… I am letting you out of the Bitch Cave just for a while… Go over there, rummage thru my pics and then come back here to help me understand summin’…

*waiting*

*waiting*

WTF?

*waiting*

*DutchBitch door creeks*

So? You’re back? Already? *insert sarcasm*

You saw the pics? They’re nice pics aren’t they? Well, STFU! I like them…

Now tell me, WTF part of those pics of mine was it that made hardhatrob assume that I would have a deep inner desire to become one of his FlickR friends? Hmmm… Yeah, you are welcome to click hardhatrob’s profile. I must say though that if you are easily offended, please don’t…

I can take erotics… but really, seriously, I am not at all interested to watch a series of hardhatrob pics in his public group that was named “Ejaculation”. And I also have no desire to join his Live Group Webcam.

His profile pic is a dead give away for why he calls himself hardhatrob though, I guess… I’m all for the “FlickR loves you” slogan, but ehm… I could do without hardhatrob’s lovin’. I’ll just employ the Vaginator once again and fantasize about what life will be like when Fab finally gets his blogfiancé butt over here… Thank you!

Now go over to Turnbaby, my bitch of the week, she’s up there in the top right sidebar. Tell her I sent ya!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Once boys enter the “Poop and Pee Phase” they nevah outgrow it… evah…

The Kid entered that phase years ago! Yeaaaars ago… He’ll turn 10 years old in about 2 months, so I can safely say that I have some hands on experience with it… Too much, to be honest. What is it with boys, and men for that matter, that they find anything remotely connected with pee, poop, or stench so utterly fun and rewarding? Cuz… seriously? I don’t see it… The Kid can spend hours on the toilet, he wants me to come look at strangely looking poo, he’s fascinated by the stream of pee coming from his penis… whatever it is, as long as it has to do with excretion of urinal or fecal matter, it’s funny…

The Kid is also a highly functional fart machine… And when I say “highly”, I mean HIGHLY functional… I mean, there is air bubbles coming out of that kid’s body constantly. Either he burping or farting and I really don’t know what I dislike most, but I think I’ll go for the farting as that brings out waaaaaaay more faul smell than the burping, though that can be accompanied with extremely nasty smells as well… The farting though… HOLY SHIT! Well, that’s maybe not the best phrasing… the “shit” part, or maybe uhm… actually it is…

The fucking nasty horrid stench coming from that cute kid’s body… It’s un-be-lie-va-ble. And guess what? He’s the kind that does the sneaky soundless farts mostly… Either that or they squeek. Yeah, I know, TMI, but I have to live with that every day, so deal with it! Let me get it out in the open here, on MY blog! OK?

So several times a day I sit in the appartment, minding my own business and this horrid nasty smell creeps up on me. And by the time that I notice, it is too late. By that time the smell is too close to escape it. The only thing I manage to do before passing out is scream: “OMFG! Sheesh! You did it again! Holy Shit!” *thump*. The Kid usually only giggles and goes about his business… And the stench lingers around him f.o.r.e.v.e.r. Yesterday I told him that I think his farts are so fond of him that once they’re out, they still don’t want to leave his side… They hug him tightly to never let go…

Thing is, he loves farting! What is there to love? It stinks, it smells, it’s unpleasant, people extremely dislike you doing it… WTF is the fascination and the reward in farting all the time? And family history tells me that it won’t get any better. I still vividly remember my live with The Ex. So the outlook? NOT good… NOT good at all… I remember once being in bed with The Ex *shudder* and him blaming me for the farty smell in the bedroom. “Ehm, no, that would be your ówn fart, Mr” is what I replied. He didn’t believe me, then lifted up the covers, sniffed and then said: “Hmmm oh right, it wás me. Smells good“. WTF? So now that it’s your ówn fart it suddenly smells good? It’s suddenly an accomplishment to be raving about? STFU!

So from the sewer stench that is my appartment, I salute you. I’m off to look for a cork to stick up The Kid’s backside!!!