I recently released a country single called “Hell No, Joe.”
It was written when I was at the end of my rope. Yes, with men and all they
entail. It’s something about being lied to one too many times that finally
makes a New Yorker write a country song. Sure, there are women who go home and
cry after being lied to. I don’t take it lying down. I get even in a way that
benefits me and makes them look like the losers they are.
At 20, I had my heart broken by an older man who didn’t want
to be my boyfriend but wanted the benefits package. So I took my act to the
comedy clubs of New York and proved funnier than him. Eventually we became
friends, but his wife doesn’t like me. She wants to be a writer of some sort.
Well, after she stopped speaking to me, I published my book. Hers is still
collecting dust in the drawer.
Then we have all heard about the former fiancé to the point
where we want to vomit. However, I got back at this abusive prick by putting
him in my comedy routine where he will be forever vilified. Not to mention my
puppet children, the ones he tried to take away, have joined me on national
television. People have told me they enjoy my children, and we will never part
ways again. I also think of my former fiancé terrorizing me and threatening to
kidnap me when I didn’t return. These things only motivated me more. Now my ex
sees me on television and is forced to swallow it. And he told me I was unfunny
and no one liked me.
Of course how can I forget the liar lawyer? Yes, the one who
I trusted after all that happened to me. The one who I poured my heart out to
and told about my dreams. Well, he lied about everything and truly broke my
heart. Sure, I was less than loyal but I never completely trusted him. What
does he do? As soon as things end, the jerkoff slimes around in my social circle
and goes after the fatter, uglier, more psychotic version of myself. I wouldn’t
care, except he has pitted her against me, and there have been times her
harassment has been so terrible I nearly had to take legal action. No matter, I
get my revenge by living well and doing well. She hasn’t bothered me in some
time which has been great. But it makes me wonder, why can’t my ex-lovers and
their current squeezes leave me alone?
So when Holden came along, he was the one I truly loved.
Sure, he had to leave the area because he had legal drama. Yeah, he was every
mother’s nightmare. But he was kind and had a good heart. Holden wanted to be
my boyfriend. He didn’t want the simple benefits without the title. Holden was
proud of my career and would tell anyone that listened about me. He didn’t make
me give up what I loved. Add in that Holden never lied to me, and despite all
the issues he had with drugs and bipolar disorder, Holden never pitted his druggie
babes against me. Yes, there is a part of me that will always love him.
However, there is a special kind of sting that goes with knowing love isn’t enough
to remedy addiction and mental illness.
That is when Hell No, Joe enters. Oh yes, the one I thought
was going to be the answer to my prayers after Holden. Yes, the one who laid it
on real thick and made me feel good about myself. Yes, the one who it turned
out tried to use me to further his career and for a place to live. I was the perfect
target for that cad. I think that’s what made Hell No, Joe the hardest. It was
as if he staked me out. Yes, April the lonely career woman. That is why I
snapped and gave Joe his own country song.
Most women would probably jump off a cliff if they had my
dating history. Yet I won’t. Nice guys don’t want me and I am okay with that.
Many so called nice guys are judgmental pricks with a stick up their asses. The
second they hear one of my exes was a fugitive at one point, they put some pep
in their step. Not to mention they try to pin my bad luck with men on me. Maybe
I do play a role in my shit luck with the male gender, but there is nothing like
an entitled dickhead who never had a bad day in their life telling you how to
lead yours. Bitch please.
Or add in the so called nice girls who have always done
everything right. They are kind of disgusting to me, too. Yes, the ones who
married and lived happily ever after. The ones who I scare to death. Newsflash,
your husband wants me. He slipped me his number. I didn’t take it because I don’t
want you to chase me in your black sedan. You will because you have no existence
outside a man and your life is that empty. And it’s his job to sexually
disappoint you, I have shit to do.
Maybe this is why my friends are such characters, because I
can relate. I don’t relate with someone who lives on the straight and narrow
and is easily successful. That person bores me and makes me vomit. I can’t
identify with people who have never been so angry that they could choke the
bejesus out of someone. Heck, I don’t know how to talk to someone who’s big
goal is to get married and have children. Truth, just as I scare that person,
that person scares me.
Eh, I have lived a little. So have my friends. Some have
been to jail, and I have visited them there. Others have been to drug
treatment, and I have visited them there. Then there are those who have made
the front page of the news, and I have cheered them on because I identify with
their antics. Of course some join cults and I marvel at their stupidity, but
then I am there when they ascend back to Earth.
Recently I took a test on BuzzFeed. The quiz was entitled, “What
Kind of Pimple Are You?” I answered the question and I got a scar. Yes, I have
lived and have some character behind me. However, because I have lived I would
give my last quarter to anyone in need, because I know how it feels to be
destitute. I would also listen with a nonjudgmental ear to someone in love with
the wrong person. Of course I would try to guide them out of that. Not to
mention if someone did fuck up big, I would make them laugh about it because
unless you have killed someone, nothing in this world is permanent. I will not
help you hide the body, but will give you perspective. Felonies are where I
draw the line.
In a way, I am glad I have had the shitty things happen to
me that have been put in my path. As a result, I am not afraid of anything,
even death. My bad luck streaks have always helped push me to the next level,
because there is nothing like proving an oppressive bully wrong. I also know
that in the end I only have myself to depend on, and lovers are like the tide,
they come and go. Of course, I make less terrible decisions these days.
However, every bad decision has at least one good story if the bad decision doesn’t
kill you.
No wonder I wrote a country song. The Huffington Post
Featured my video. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/april-brucker/hell-no-joe-why-i-wrote-a_b_6038728.html
The next level is just around the corner for me. So to all
that have kicked me and beaten me down, thank you. Without you I would not be
the woman I am today. xoxox
www.aprilbrucker.com
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