Six Years Later, Perjury Caught Up With Him (Part Three)

I was driving home when Mr. Attorney Man called to say that he thought it had gone well. I agreed, and then caught him off guard by saying that I wanted to concede to my ex’s motion, and moving forward have a cap placed on what he would owe me.

Repeatedly explaining that there was no legal basis for that, and that it would mean I would end up paying a majority of the bills in the end, I stood firm that it was what I wanted.

I do want justice, but I also need to move on.

“Please ask the judge to cap it, and in turn raise his monthly payments for support and arrears. I’d rather he be obligated to pay a higher amount each month, if it means that I don’t have to talk to him ever again. I know that means I will end up paying more towards medical bills than he will, but I can’t keep doing this. I want to move on.”

I need to.

I got home that night to a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of alcohol removed champagne, and a husband waiting to either comfort me, or celebrate, and had to explain that the case wasn't yet over. 

I tossed and turned all night, and the next morning when closing arguments began, Mr. Attorney Man expressed to the court how weary the process has made me, and that although I was there for justice, I was desperate to move on. He pointed out that it was clear my ex’s testimony was not credible and asked that the courts make things right for me and my children.

Then, my ex’s attorney said “your honor, we have a lot of deadbeat dads that come through this courtroom, and it’s obvious that Mr. Ex is not one of them.”

Six Years Later, Perjury Caught Up With Him (Part Two)

It was absolutely freezing on the walk to the courthouse.

Held in the afternoon and the only case on the docket, the courtroom was empty for our hearing, with the exception of Mr. Attorney Man, myself, a friend, my ex, his attorney, the judge, and the bailiff.

Intimate in a strange kind of way, it was both comforting, and unnerving.

Mr. Attorney Man had prepared a binder of documents that was no less than five inches thick and marked with exhibits.

I myself had brought a four inch file folder of well gone through evidence; copies of everything from bills that I had incurred, to photographs of my ex, his wife, and their children, provided to me by someone they believe is their friend, and proving that his lifestyle isn't quite as homeless as he has claimed.

I was ready, and utterly sick to my stomach. But, in a twist of fortune, the judge that had spent years letting my ex bluff his way through court, had retired, and a new judge now reigned over our case; giving me a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

My ex was called first, and as he sat there on the witness stand, I was taken aback at his appearance. A gaunt face with dark circles under his eyes, his hair has gone almost completely gray. Repeatedly clenching his jaw in anxiety, just as he had done throughout our marriage, only a couple teeth were now left on his bottom jaw, and a damaged partial denture that was supposed to be a temporary fix from work started nearly a decade ago, clung to the top and cause him to appear even older than he is.

Mr. Attorney Man wasted no time in getting down to business, and in an effort to condense what ended up being almost four hours of testimony, I’ll tell you that my ex’s answers were filled almost completely with perjury, and fake tears that dripped of manipulation, and desperation.

“Mr. Ex, were you not ordered to log into the website Talking Parents once a week (our only mode of communication), to converse regularly with Ms. Strong about the children and finances?” Mr. Attorney Man asked.

Six Years Later, Perjury Caught Up With Him (Part One)

Wow. 

Just wow.

Four years since I started this blog, 387 posts later, and almost exactly six years since my ex abandoned me and the kids, I finally get to write this post.

This is it. 

This is THEE post that so many of you, including myself, have been waiting for since I started this blog in 2013.

What began with a few readers, has since led to millions of you following along, and it all culminates to this moment.

A Court Date, A DCFS Case, And A Cry For Help

"Do you know what makes you special, in a different way than the baby in mommy's tummy?" The Guy asked The Boy Child as he pulled him onto his lap.

"I'm better at building with Legos" The Boy Child replied, apparently confident in his six-year-old understanding of how the world works.

"Well, yes" The Guy replied, trying not to laugh, before asking "but do you know what makes me love you so much?"

"Because I'm your best buddy!" The Boy Child exclaimed, throwing his arms around The Guy's neck.

Hugging him back, The Guy explained "yes you are! You are my buddy, and what makes you so special to me, is that your brother is being born into our family, but I picked you to be mine. I met you, and I took a good long look at everything that makes you who you are, and I said to myself  'I want to be his daddy, because that's how much I love him.' Forever, and ever, and ever, you're mine, because out of all the little boys in the whole wide world, I picked you."

With The Boy Child in is arms, The Guy is showing him how to hold his candle during the Christmas church service.

******************

A couple weeks before Christmas, The Boy Child was injured, intentionally, by a respite care worker we had hired to keep him safe. And due to a pending investigation of her, I can't go into details, but this woman had worked for us for a couple months, had gone through a background check, interview, drug test, and CPR class, all through a respite care agency. Yet still, she harbored an anger streak that none of us knew about.

My Ex's Attorney Is A Killer (Literally)

If you didn't read the last post, "I'm Not There Anymore," I suggest reading that first so that this post makes sense.

**************

It’s been a few days since my day in court, and I’m feeling much better. Overall I wasn’t feeling all that bad to begin with (compared to prior years in court), but either way it always takes a lot out of me.

This whole process has just been ridiculous. As a bit of background on this most current situation that brought us into court, Ex is ordered to pay 50% of all our children's medical, daycare, school, and extra curricular expenses. But about a year ago, he started to fall behind again; which if you are new to this blog, is a constant issue with him. He either doesn't pay the bills and/or child support, I take him to court, he is threatened with jail, and he catches up for a few months on a payment plan, before he stops paying again.

Sensing that we were about to head down the familiar legal intervention path, I told him that if he started paying me a set amount per week, that I would personally eat the cost of anything above and beyond that. The number that I offered him was significantly lower than what expenses actually are, but it would have been worth it just to not have to deal with him. To make the offer sweeter, Mr. Attorney Man graciously offered to waive the fees billed from prior court dates that Ex had not yet paid (since Ex was found in contempt, he has to pay my attorney).

Ex rejected the idea.

I'm Not There Anymore

It’s 6:30am. My husband just left for work, and the kids are sleeping. It’s been raining on and off, so it’s still dark out, and the cars driving on the road outside, are making a whizzing noise on the wet pavement as people rush off to work. A chill hangs in the air and fog has settled so thick outside, that I can’t see the cornfields right outside my front door. It’s exactly the kind of morning where you pull the covers up under your chin and relish the last few minutes you have before your alarm goes off, but I can’t sleep.

It actually feels a lot like the night several years ago when I found myself in bed, opening my laptop, and starting this blog.

I woke up this morning crying, and I’m not sure why. Tears clung to my cheeks as the pillowcase clung to my face, and my nose was running. Maybe I had been dreaming, but the more likely scenario is that even in sleep, I’m still decompressing from the events of yesterday.

On Going To Court This Week, Pregnant

Not long ago, The Guy, the kids, and I were in the car. I can’t remember what we were talking about, but at some point I looked into the backseat, and saw that The Girl Child’s eyes were welling up with tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she didn’t answer me. Confused, The Guy repeated my question, and her response to him caught me completely off guard.

“You’re not my real daddy!”

She was visibly upset and by the quiver in her voice as well as the emotion packed behind her words, it was clear that her statement was something that she had been thinking about for a very long time.

Not wanting to jump the wrong way in the conversation, I asked her what she meant by that, and she surprised me with the simplicity of her answer.

You Are Never Going To Believe This

************************

Heeeelllllooooo everyone!

My gosh, WHERE IS THE TIME GOING?

I feel like these last few months have just run over me; some great, other parts not-so-great, and a few moments have just been insane.

Can we talk about “insane,” for a few minutes here? Because here is something that I cannot even wrap my head around, and I’d love it if you all could join me in shock, awe, and horror:

Set Previous Stage: Do you remember the last time I took my ex to court? It was the 3rd or 4th time we had gone due to his failure to pay child support, and as usual he whined and cried that he was poor, basically homeless, and had not a penny to his name. Then, in a shocking twist, it came out that he was married and had new kids. He begged and pleaded for one more chance to make things right, because his “kids” (not referring to the ones he abandoned) needed him, and the judge bought the whole damn charade.

Set Recent Stage: Last December, after being given another opportunity to stay out of jail and pay down his arrearages, my ex stopped contributing to the kids medical bills, daycare costs, etc, and fell behind on paying child support. I offered him an agreement to get caught up, just so we could stay out of court, he denied it, and I filed a court petition.

Set Current Stage: My ex hired an attorney. Yep! The man cannot afford to pay his child support, yet he can afford an attorney to explain why he shouldn't have to pay child support. Oh but wait! He actually CAN afford support, because after lying on his financial affadavits all these years, after hiring an attorney who has the responsibility to have his client surrender certain financial documents to the other party (us), SURPRISE SURPRISE out comes the truth; the ex and his wife make nearly 100k a year.

You read that right (although at first I didn’t think I had).

Stand Tall, Even If Your Ex's New Wife Sucks

Every single morning, before I drop my kids off at school, I take a minute to say something to them, that I feel might be one of the most important thing they hear all day. The kids know it so well, that I only have to say the first part before they excitedly chime in with me.

Make good choices, and be a good friend, because the world needs kind people, with smiley faces.

*************************

I have a good friend who is basically a professional internet sleuth, and recently, she looked up my ex, and sent me photos of him, his new wife, their two kids, and her extended family. Sitting there looking at the photos, I was struck that the only thought I had was “how on earth did he con all of those normal looking people?”

Then I thought back to when he originally joined my family, and had cried his little sob story about why he didn’t have any people in his life, and my extended family scooped him right up.

My grandma was kind to him in ways that make me sick to think about — knowing that he was manipulating us the entire time — such as his first Christmas with us, when she went out of her way to buy gifts for him so that he would feel welcome in our family.

Eventually, when I finally met his parents — the people he tried to keep from me — and I realized that he had lied about most of the life he had claimed to lead, I felt like an idiot. And when the lies and his true personality came pouring out until there was nowhere left to hide, and no one left that would protect him, he split.

Then he started over with the poor woman that is married to him now.

I Don't Want My Ex To Move Back Into My House

Well, to jump right into it, last week’s post stuck with me more than I was expecting. (If you haven’t read it yet, I’d suggest doing that before you continue on, but for the TL;DR, I've found my feelings of anger towards my ex, reignited as I watch The Guy with my children.)

Anyway, it’s been interesting for me to reflect on last week’s post. Although I stand-by everything I said in terms of not letting my negative emotions consume me, as with any source of anxiety, sometimes it takes a while to figure out where it stems from.

Then sometimes, you figure it out and it just clicks.

I was married to my ex for twice the time that I’ve been divorced, and although I hate to admit it, I still feel more like the wife that was left behind by her first husband, than the wife I am now. 

My Ex Is Ruining My Marriage

Last Friday, she called me at 6am, 9am, 12pm, 4pm, and 2am, and then her family called me at 3pm and 7pm.

And she is just one of my many nonprofit clients.

I absolutely adore her and she is definitely one of my favorite clients, but she is going through some really tough things right now, and even though her life is not my own, I am beginning to feel emotionally overwhelmed and exhausted.

**********

For Christmas, The Guy gave The Boy Child a Ninja Turtle shaving set, and he couldn’t have been more thrilled.

I Got Into A Physical Fight With My New Husband

I woke up kicking him and shoving him away from me.

“Eden, it’s me! It’s just me, and you’re safe. You are safe, wake up!”

The voice, it sounded familiar.

It was Friday night, or rather, now early Saturday morning. The Guy and I were unwinding after the kids had gone to bed, by watching a movie and having a drink. We weren’t drinking excessively — not even close — but I was tired, and so was he, and at some point we had both fallen asleep in a pile of pillows that we had been using to cushion the floor; which was a much better option than our ridiculously uncomfortable sofa.

When the TV shut itself off and The Guy awoke just after 2am and realized what time it was, he gently shook me by the shoulders and tried to wake me up so that we could both make our way upstairs, and into a bed that would be much kinder to our backs than the floor was.

But my back was already screaming in pain, and I was disoriented just enough by the darkness of the room, my position on the floor, and a man leaning over me, that my half asleep, wine relaxed brain, didn’t immediately piece the entire scenario together.

Instead, it pulled what little information it knew, and it flashed me back to a time when I was 19, and I found myself groggy, in the dark, in pain, and with my ex-husband pushing my shoulders down into his futon.

And right then and there I "realized" that I was about to be raped again.

So I fought.

The Lies My Ex Spews (And Why We Shouldn't Do Drugs)

A couple of weeks ago, I had court again with my ex. We were there for the ongoing saga that is the child support issue, and thank you Lord, when I got there, BEST DAY EVER.

My regular judge was on vacation.

Photo Courtesy of Giphy.com

And the stand-in judge looked like he needed about a gallon of coffee and a few grams of something illegal just to stay away for the next twenty minutes.

Basically, I loved that judge.

Unfortunately for me, before I even got the chance to have my case heard by this new, amazingly awesome judge, my ex asked Mr. Attorney Man if he could speak to me in the hall.

"Sure, why not," I said. I mean really, what could possibly go wrong in that situation (besides of course, everything).

I'd like to say that I agreed to do it because I had suddenly adopted some primal warrior attitude that was giving me the bravery I had previously lacked, but I'd be totally lying. Rather, that morning I was feeling rather stoic about the whole thing. I hadn’t been scared to walk into the court room, but I honestly think it's because my ex has dragged me through so much over the last few years, that I have begun to feel almost numb as of late. Abuse, rape, infidelity, lies, addiction, financial ruin, abandonment, hurt children, stalking, new wives, new children, and a never-ending court process, has all lead me to a place where I just feel numb to his destruction of me.

I really don’t think there are many more ways that he can hurt me. 

So into the hallway I went, where he began to spew his lies and play his victim card, and in turn, forget "stoic," because I instantly felt like my head was going to explode.

Photo Courtesy Of Giphy.com

“You took out a car insurance policy on my car, and when you got into an accident, my rates went up!” he hissed.

It was then that I made the snap decision that rather than physically attack his lying ass and get myself thrown in jail, I would take the high road...

... and passive aggressively chat with him.

The Truth Will Set You Free

*******

A couple weeks ago on a Saturday night, I picked up the phone, and to my shock, horror, and surprise, there was a Facebook message from the woman that I believed my ex was cheating on me with during a portion of my marriage.

That would make her the woman that he was cheating with, before the woman that he was cheating with and left me for.

Does that make sense?

Hopefully, because we are moving on.

I almost hesitate to write about it because the timing of it coming right after my resolution to let go of the anger, most likely makes it seem completely staged, but it wasn’t. It really happened and if you care to stick around and hear about it, sweet deal, and if you don’t want to believe me, then you can mosey on along and it’s no sweat off my back.

But anyway, years ago when I was still married, my ex had everything electronic in our house on lock down. I couldn’t use the desktop computer without him unlocking it, he had his own laptop that I could never get into, and he had his phone locked and refused to ever let me use it.

Then, one night while I was sitting there nursing our son and paying some bills, I asked him to get my phone so that I could use the calculator. Being too lazy to actually get up and get it, he, for the first time ever, unlocked his phone and handed it to me.

Now everyone knows that the first time someone gives you access to something that you have been never been allowed to access before, that the smart thing to do would be to earn some trust by proving that you can be trusted, and not snoop.

Too bad I never do the “right” thing.

You Deserve Better Than Settling

“What you want, and what you are willing to do to get it, are drastically different things. You need to decide if you are simply just wanting, or if you are really, truly, willing. Because you can say all day long that you want something, or that you want to make a change, but unless you are willing — right now in this moment — to take the steps that are necessary for that change, then you are forever going to be left simply ‘wanting’.”

My nonprofit has such a long waiting list of clients right now, that they far exceed the services that we have available. So for now, a lot of our clients are meeting with me in what I’m calling “support sessions,” since I can’t legally counsel anyone (and they know that I’m not a licensed counselor, it’s fully disclosed, and they meet with me at their own risk). But it was last week in the middle of a session, when I found myself telling a client that they need to choose "willing" over simply just "wanting," when the hypocrisy of my words hit me in the face so hard that I was barely able to finish the session with her.

I am a hypocrite.

I'm So Angry!

Last week I was sitting in a left turn lane when a car attempted to pull out of a right-turn-only business exit, and make a left turn.

She didn’t make it.

She hit the back of my car, backed up, made a u-turn, and drove away. By the grace of God there were no other cars around, so I was able to make a legal u-turn and follow her to where she got stuck in traffic at a red light.

After snapping a picture of her license plate, I pulled into the lane next to her, beeped the horn, and motioned for her to pull over.

She laughed, basically flipped me off, and sped away.

Not wanting to kill myself while entering a high-speed chase down a very busy road, and unsure of what I would even do if I caught up with her (is it legal to run people off the road? I’m thinking probably not…), I simply pulled into the next business parking lot that I came across, and called the police.

The 911 dispatcher was all over it from the second she answered the phone. “What color was the SUV? Which direction was she traveling? What was the license plate number?” and within minutes an officer had pulled up next to me in the parking lot.

For the first time, I got out of the car to survey the damage she had done to my care, and I’m embarrassed to admit, it wasn’t much.

Whomp whomp.

I Talked To My Ex's First "Wife," And I Got The Real Story Of The Man I Married

Like my creepy stalker eyes?

************

Alrighty, well, I've had some time to let the shock of my ex husband's new life settle in, and I have to say that I'm feeling much better. I mean it wasn't as if I hadn't suspected it in the past (I knew he was still with the woman that he had been cheating on me with and often commented to my friends that it would be really strange if my kids had siblings), but it was just the confirmation of it all, the announcement that my kids do in fact have siblings (GASP), and the realization of depth of his manipulation that knocked the wind out of my lungs.

But I'm good now.

About as good as I can be knowing that my violent, child abusing, potential child sex predator is living with a woman and two young girls, and that he has been using them to manipulate my life since he abandoned us.

So basically I'm not really feeling very good about that at all. I mean as far as the ex goes, well fuck him, but the part about his two young daughters, that's scary.

And after some really long talks with my friends and Mr. Attorney Man about what my options are to warn this poor woman of who she is really married too, the lies that he is probably feeding her, and the danger that he poses to her children... I still don't know what to do.

A picture from the post "The Post Where I Show You My Ex." 

If only I'd known what was coming; both when the picture was originally taken, and when I posted it on the blog two years ago. 

I know what I went through, and I know what my children went through, and I know what we have continued to go through day after day for years on end because of his actions. And I can't lie, I don't like this new wife of his. I know that I don't know her, but I'm sorry, I already don't like her. I can't help but feel angry at the role she has played in my life (she was dating a married man, and I have a hard time believing that she didn't know that), but woman to woman, mother to mother, I also can't help but fear for her safety and the future of her children.

The Most Shocking Post I've Ever Written

A few weeks ago I was at the YMCA gym, working hard to tone my butt on the ARC trainer (because why not), and thinking about how nervous I was that it was the first time that my now eight-year-old daughter wasn’t in the kid’s area of the YMCA childcare center. I was nervous as all get-out to have her move up with the older kids (overprotective much?), but she was nothing short of EXCITED.

In fact, the only reason we were at the gym that night was because she had begged me to take her. She knew that in the “big kids room” there was a large TV with bean bag chair viewing, a ping pong table, computers, arts and crafts, and the most fun part to her, was that the kids could check out tablets to play games on.

So, after hearing her beg, whine, and plead for several days on end, we made our way to the YMCA so that she could finally experience the Disneyland version of YMCA childcare; big kid style.

Sweating to death on the ARC trainer, I cursed the timer that seemed to be moving incredibly slow, and then found myself looking around the gym to see if anyone else appeared to be feeling the same level of physical fitness failure that I seemed to be suffering from that night. But what caught my eye was not some random person falling off of a stair climber, but rather the face of my daughter who was standing in the hallway.

She was crying

Well, crying would be putting it mildly, because she was actually at the point where she was hyperventilating. I jumped off the ARC trainer mid stride, and when I met her in the hallway she threw her arms around me and buried her tear streaked face into my side.

When she had calmed down enough for me to talk to the childcare worker who was with her, the story unfolded that when she tried to check out a tablet, she realized that she didn’t have her ID card with her. A childcare worker volunteered to take her to find me so she could get her card, and off they went, to the “gym” where I had said I was going.

But, I wasn’t technically in the gym, I was in the fitness center.

When she didn’t find me in the actual gym, she decided that I must be in a dance class, so they looked there. When I wasn’t there, they checked the spin class, locker rooms, bathroom, and then made their way back to the gym. The track in the gym runs around the enclosed basketball courts, and because of that you can’t see the entire track from the door. So I guess, as the story goes, she thought that I must just be where she couldn’t see me and she started to walk around the track. When she still didn’t see me, she panicked, and before the childcare worker knew what was going on, my tiny eight-year-old girl, wearing braces on her legs and with panic in her heart, started running around the track crying and calling out for me.

When the childcare worker managed to get her off of the track, she told her “my daddy left me, and now my mommy left me too.”

Hearing that CRUSHED me, because it made me realize that after four and a half years, countless hours of trauma therapy, and all the reassurance in the world that I would never leave her, she still harbors the realization that parents aren’t always permanent, and love is not always unconditional.

****************

On Friday morning I went to court for the dramatic situation that is the unpaid child support that I am owed. Not to beat a dead horse here, but as a SUPER quick recap (click here for the full story) I will remind you that my ex owes me a great deal of money in unpaid support, and after many, many court dates, was finally found guilty in court, and was sentenced to jail. Then the judge decided that jail was too harsh and he would give my ex time to pay me half of what I was owed, in order stay out of jail. My ex said he could pay it in 60 days, and the judge said he would give him 90 days, but here we were, over 90 days later and he still had not paid me.

Per the judge’s order of “Mr. Strong, if you don’t show up with a check you had better show up with a toothbrush,” Mr. Attorney Man assured me that we had a decent shot at my ex being thrown in jail.

I'll Take Insanity For $500

Well, it's that time again. Time to head somewhere that typically just pisses me off and makes me a rather unpleasant person to be around for the 24 hours after I leave said place; mostly because it's a place filled with creepy people, a ridiculous judge, and an ex husband that I despise.

Oh yea, and there was that time Mr. Attorney Man and I almost died there. Not really, but almost. 

Yep, it's time to head back to court again on the never ending quest to get my ex husband to pay child support! Remember how the last time I went to court, a judge found my ex guilty of contempt for not following a court order, and not paying child support? Remember how thrilled I was to hear the verdict, until mere moments later when the judge said "Oh, sorry, struggling single mom of two special needs kids, who has been in front of my bench 15 times in the last four years since your ex never pays you, I'm actually not going to send him to jail. Instead I'm going to give him an extra 90 days to pay you half of what he owes. Because he only has himself to worry about and one job to work and I think that you look capable of getting a few more jobs to take care of your sick and disabled kids when you aren't sitting in a hospital for weeks on end, so just hang in there for a few more months since it's only been four years, and then just take the discounted money and be happy with it OK?"

Photo Courtesy of Giphy.com

Well, he didn't exactly say that, but it was very much implied.

NO.

Not happy.

"You know, Judge, I really only wanted half the money anyway, in case I just wanted to start feeding my children half of what they need and only clothe them halfway."

Photo Courtesy of Giphy.com

Venting (Sorry)

As some of you probably know from Facebook, The Girl Child has had a bit of a rough week and a half.

Because of that, I'm a little bit exhausted and overwhelmed at the moment, but I didn't want to completely neglect you, so if you haven't been on my Facebook, check out these two articles of mine that ran on Huffington Post and Babble. I'll be the first to admit that some of what I write can be a bit of a mindless time filler, but I'm actually really pleased with the way both of these articles turned out.

A Letter To My Fatherless Daughter

My Husband Abandoned Our Family, And The Hardest Part Was Dealing With What Everyone Else Had To Say About It

Aside from that, if I may, I'm going to vent for a minute. And sure, once I'm a little more rested and thinking a bit more clearly, maybe I'll regret this, but not today. Today I'm angry and feel like venting, so that's what is going to happen!!

**WARNING, IF YOU DON'T LIKE TO HEAR PEOPLE COMPLAIN, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY LEAVE NOW**

Photo Courtesy of Giphy.com

Have you all heard of the website "Talking Parents?" It's kind of like if Facebook messenger and email had a baby, you would get Talking Parents. The website serves as a communication mode for parents going through a court case. It allows parents to chat back and forth like Facebook messenger, and it records when each parent logged in and when each message was read. You can upload attachments such as bills, right into the system for the other parent to view, and then you have proof when they viewed them. Best yet the messages cannot be changed or tampered with, so when you go to court you can actually print a complete record of everything that was said and when things were read. (Promise this is not a paid advertisement. Although if any of you work for Talking Parents... I'd be willing to accept some compensation lol.)

At my last court date I requested that the judge order all communication with my ex to be done through Talking Parents, so I would have proof that my ex ignores me and all my attempts to work amicably with him on things such as bills, child support, and anything else that may arise.

It was granted, my ex and I signed up, and THE IDIOT HAS NOT FAILED TO SHOW HIS IDIOCRACY.