Are those the old ladies that end up shooting their neighbor through the front door?

I referenced this post to my wife, she just went "huh" and nodded to her self ... IDK, if I stop posting I want it to be known that I'm not suicidal

A friend of mine had an abusive stepfather. He mostly beat his wife, until one day he threatened their baby. That night, my friend's mom shotgunned the stepfather in bed.

Would putting him jail forever have been better? Sure. But it wouldn't have happened. He'd have been thrown in the drunk tank overnight and be back at it the next morning. If she'd divorced him, he would have fought for custody.

She solved the problem forever. I can't endorse what she did, but I also won't judge her.

The ethics of this are completely at odds with our justice system but yet if in a jury I'd want to nullify it every time and I'm guessing many of you would, too.

This reminded me of my own experience. Bear with me as this is a story from long ago, and I was not sober for it.

This is the story of Alice: Biker, Drinker, Badass.

Drinking at the bar with a friend, we went out to have a smoke and started chatting with this cool older lady. It was the type of conversation you have when everyone involved is in a good mood and at least a little drunk: lots of shouting and laughing (and coughing; we were smoking 2 things!)

We were drinking heavily and trading funny stories. Out of nowhere, this lady starts talking about how she "took care of" her first husband. He taught her how to ride and fix motorcycles, but he was a violent alcoholic. One day she'd had enough and found the perfect opportunity. He drunkenly passed out near a river, so she threw him in and held him down until he stopped moving. She then set it up to look like he got trashed and rode his motorcycle into the water, which apparently looked convincingly like he just was too far gone to save himself. This lady, for real, probably did this. I have a decent enough bullshit detector, and nothing was setting off any alarms.

Just because this lady deserves to have her legend remembered, a couple more quick tidbits. On another occasion, she told me in front of my wife that she wanted to sit on my face. On yet another occasion, she shouted "hey boys!" at me and a few friends while we were ordering at the bar, and when we all turned to look, she flashed us and just started cackling.

Seriously, she cackled so joyfully after each one of these anecdotes. What a fucking badass. Ride on, Alice!

[For reference, all of these happened probably 10 to 12 years ago. That lady was old enough, and partied hard enough, that I highly doubt she's still with us.

I'm not advocating for or condoning murder, by the way. It's just that I believe this woman's account, and that she lived in a hard time and place. I don't know if it's really true, and I don't know if she had other options.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vSfqR3Hyxc

My grandmother on my mother's side beat my grandfather with a cast iron skillet while he was sleeping in retaliation for him beating her earlier. Apparently he learned from it and it never happened again.

Also song reference in the title is solid.

With abortion and divorce getting more difficult "accidents" for male deaths may go up and this will repeat.

My dad was doing some family tree genealogy, he discovered that one of our predecessors died of 'dementia' at the age of 28. He discovered that a historian had written a paper (thesis?) on a spike in the number of poisonings that happened in the area (Glasgow I think) at that time (mid-late 1800's I think). Dad reached out to the historian and she thought it was a likely case.

So my N-th great-grandma (or her beau) probably got away with murdering my N-th great-grandpa.

Her son moved to Canada, (Toronto) went to Winnipeg for work, leaving his pregnant wife in Toronto. Then he joined the army for WWI, and died in Flanders.

Allegedly when his wife (Toronto) went to claim the pension it was already being claimed by his 'widow' in Winnipeg.

The baby from the pregnant Toronto wife was my great great grandmother, so he was my GGG grandfather so N=4.

I said allegedly with respect to the pension because it's a family legend only attested to by my great-grandmother, who may have been a pathological liar. The rest of the story is reasonably verified.

If more of them had been lucky enough to deal with their abusers like this the GOP might not be as powerful as it is today.

This is not bullshit!

I worked as a nurse's assistant for twenty years. The amount of confessions I've heard is frightening. Not even deathbed confessions, but from people that were just in their seventies and did not have any fucks left to give.

Now, before I tell the craziest one I ever heard, there's a warning and a less crazy one.

The warning our that the last time I told the story online, I got a blast of shit over it, and I no longer entertain assholes, so don't waste your time with any fuckery, I'll block you and move on with my evening.

The less crazy one isn't even my story, it's my wife's, and I asked if I could tell it here.

Her grandmother, and she's still alive and only in her seventies now, was married three times. She shot all three husbands. She killed one of them. Never saw a day of jail, which is kinda batshit when you consider that she killed the one on her front porch in clear view of multiple people.

The first husband cheated on her, and when she objected and told him to GTFO, hit her. She responded by borrowing a shotgun and putting birdshot in his knee the next day.

The second husband did "something ugly" to the son she had from the first husband. She put a 12 gauge slug into him, center of mass, and that was the end of that marriage. Neither the son nor the lady were ever willing to say exactly what was done to the boy, just that it was ugly or nasty.

The third husband knew about the first two, married the lady and was still dumb enough to throw a hot cup of coffee in her face and slap her. He survived, but only after a lot of surgery because a shotgun will absolutely fuck up intestines.

This little lady looked me in the eye and said I shouldn't ever give her a reason because she still has the shotgun. Then she hugged my neck. She's a little fucking terrifying.

Now, the story from a patient. Not a woman this time, so not exactly the same thing, though I've heard plenty of women talk about having to deal out their own justice.

This was a Korean war vet. He was a deacon in his church, a well known and respected man. What you might call local famous. Real pillar of the community type, and not in a jokey or fake way, we're talking a guy that would show up when a fire burned families out and make sure they had a place to stay, clothes, food, etc. Like, he's a hero locally, or was.

We're sitting around talking after the usual care routine, after a few months of working with him. He starts talking about his war experience. Pretty brutal stuff overall, but nothing too unusual for vets that I'd helped out over the years.

Until he starts talking about having to fight a guy hand to hand. One of those things where it's down to two men, a knife, and desperation. He ends up stabbed, but killed the enemy. And as the enemy is dying, he gets this rush of anger and all the adrenaline hits him. He starts just stomping on the man's face, then goes off even more, until not even his mother would be able to recognize the body (that's as close as I trust my memory about what he said, but it's damn near a quote).

He finishes it up and realizes he just came in his pants and is still erect.

Now, that's crazy enough by itself.

But he then tells another story from after that where he gut shot someone just so that he could repeat that feeling. He then says he did it more than once.

Vicissitudes of war and all, so I thank him for sharing it.

He just looks at me and keeps talking.

He tells me about how all of his kids were conceived while he was imagining doing the same thing to his wife. How some of the other people he had sex with, he would need to imagine beating them and killing as he had sex with them to even be interested.

He talked about imagining doing it to his kids.

He said that even after he couldn't get an erection, he would still imagine killing and having sex with people because it made him feel alive.

I again thanked him for sharing.

He looked me right in the eye and asked me what he was thinking about right this minute.

He lived for about a year after that. I was with him when he died, his son had called me when his father started having agonal breathing (though he didn't use the term). I helped wash his body.

As near as I can tell, I'm the only one he ever told. To the best of my knowledge he never acted on any of it as a civilian.

He had it coming, he had it coming, he only had himself to blame...