Presented without comment.
Tinder has ignited a fiery rage in our recently dumped Donks. It’s not difficult to imagine that Julsie was apoplectic after it was publicly revealed that Derpin was trolling for ass on Tinder the minute he nevered the donkey. It’s also not surprising that the SO NICE Julia is directing her rage on random journalists just because they deigned to write an article on the hook-up app. Clearly something is wrong with those journalists. If only someone told them they need help. Fortunately for Maureen O’Connor, Julia is ON IT.
Yes, Julia Allison worries about Maureen O’Connor. She worries about her to such a degree that she has to tell her on Twitter. That’s just so nice of her. Somehow the fact that the dude her meemaw sent from heaven to love her is now down to fuck anything within GPS proximity is all Maureen O’Connor’s fault. Shame on her.
Speaking of meemaw. Now that they are offically broken up, for realsies this time, I thought it would be nice to revisit Donk’s book proposal to reminisce about what she had to say about the greatest love story involving a homosexual line cook ever told. This is from her outline for the fifth chapter of a book that will never see the light of day.
Two weeks later, my beloved Grandmother passed away, at 4 a.m. on a Wednesday morning. I got the call from my father, and fell to the ground, hysterical. My Grandmother taught me everything about love. My Grandmother WAS love.
During our last conversation, my Grandmother had asked me her favorite question, “Have you found your true love yet?” When I answered that I wasn’t sure I ever would, she looked at me and said softly, “You will. And you’ll be a good wife and mother, even if you don’t think so now.”
It was May 9th, the day she died, and I stumbled out to the beach near my house, watched the sun rise, and sobbed. I hadn’t ever experienced loss like that, loss of a primary love. I had never felt that kind of pain. I had meetings that day, which I
canceled, of course. But I also had a first date that evening, with a young man I had never met before.
So I didn’t cancel the date. And as he met me that evening, for a sunset walk on the same beach I had gone to grieve my Grandmother 12 hours earlier, a sense of calm I couldn’t explain washed over me. “Oh,” I thought. “Something’s different.”
Several hours later, he kissed me for the first time, and wrapped a blanket around our bodies as we cuddled near the shore. I felt waves of unconditional love wash over me, and I felt my Grandmother’s presence, like an angel.
The man I met the night of my Grandmother’s death is now the love of my life. We’ve been together 9 months, and it feels completely different than any relationship I’ve ever had. He is the kindest, most honest, most humble and giving human being I’ve ever met. It’s like every movie cliche: He makes me want
to be a better woman. I like to believe Grandmother sent him to me, as her final gift. I know that I cherish him all the more for it.
All logic told me I should cancel the date … but I had an inexplicable feeling that I shouldn’t. My Grandmother was a very spiritual person, with a deep and abiding faith. She believed there was more to this world than meets the eye.
Funny, now’s he’s excising himself from every aspect of Julia’s life. What’s the plan NOW, Julia?
Today is Julia Allison’s birthday. And this year, she wants to remind her mother that she should be happy she is even alive. Yes, apparently, Julia’s been sucking the life out of people since birth.
There is this, recently posted on her FB timeline (which suggests to me she is probably losing her shit and this is an attempt to pacify her):
And there is this, although I am not convinced it’s authentic given all the questions are Donkey-themed (you have to have an OK Cupid profile to read the questions; see the comments in the previous post). Would Derwood be that cruel and/or willing to invite so much demented, braying rage into his life?