The Stories Your Mother Never Told You.

There are stories which we choose not to share, for one reason or another. Perhaps it is related to shame or embarrassment. Or maybe we just hold them so dear, that in sharing them they would become devalued.

A friend of mine recently acquired a rather unusual collection of note books which I feel sure you will be delighted to read. He was an elderly man, I will not give very many details, as I would not wish to identify him in any way.

Wrapped in brown paper, of the sort people used for parcels many years ago, these note books were dusty hand written relics. I can well imagine them being tossed out with the trash when someone moved house, or recycled along with old copies of magazines when clearing out a loft or basement.

My friend explained that they had been among some personal papers found in a house that was being sold. The contents of these papers were at first a mystery, then quite surprising – and ultimately quite shocking.

I am thrilled to release these notes in their original sordid and salacious form. They are available to all my Seahorse members – through my Patreon Pages. Be sure to sign up to my Patrion and enjoy these extraordinary documents.

The Stories Your Mother Never Told You – Part 10.

 In a tattered journal given to me by one of my clients, I came across the following account which you may find of special interest. It was clearly written describing a time when my visitor was little more than an infant. You will see that we’ve named him Billy junior, to help keep things straight. I would guess that the diary entries are from the late 1950’s, judging by the content and condition of the journal. This episode is provided free to give you a taste. If you’d like to enjoy other episodes be sure to sign up for my Patreon at the Seahorse Level.

I do find it irritating when some of the men go on about the war they fought in France.  You’d think the French girls were entirely devoid of Christian morals.  Worse, the men seem to think this somehow attractive.

I find it deplorable and when Bill said he was thinking about joining up with this business in Korea, I put a stop to it before he could get that particular ball rolling Magdalene told me about her brother and the disgusting things he’d got up to over there. Seoul is a hive of iniquity, of course, but it’s Japan that seems to bring out the very worst in the men. I really don’t see what it is that they find so attractive about these foreign girls, though I’ve heard they do everything, even on the first date. But that’s just me, I suppose.  Someone has to uphold American values in these modern times.

I believe in apple pie, Chevy’s and the ball game. And while Bill’s out watching the game with several of his friends, I guarantee you I’ll be have a ball game of my own with exactly whoever I please. These long skirts cover a multitude of sins, I assure you.

Just the other weekend I packed a nice lunch for Bill, and threw in a couple of beers, for him and the boys, who were off to watch a ball game in a neighboring town. It’s only forty minutes drive but you’d think they were going to the other end of the country.

As he drove off, the hood down, the five of them were laughing and joking. I had some laundry to do, and I’ve never liked the game myself.

“Don’t wait up,” shouted Bill, with a wave.  Honestly, you’d think I was his mother. By the time the dust had settled and the car had disappeared I walked back inside our rancher, and poured a large gin. It was a quiet Saturday morning and I had no plans for the day at all, beyond the washing. I sipped my drink, a little lemon added to it.

Continue reading “The Stories Your Mother Never Told You – Part 10.”

The Stories Your Mother Never Told You. Part 6.

In a tattered journal given to me by one of my clients, I came across the following account which you may find of special interest. It was clearly written describing a time when my visitor was little more than an infant. You will see that we’ve named him Billy junior, to help keep things straight. I would guess that the diary entries are from the late 1950’s, judging by the content and condition of the journal.

July 26th.

I drove across town this evening to Vince Miller’s place. Funny being there after all these years. I remember his 6th birthday party. The swing on the lawn. But tonight was something different. He asked me to do a little favor a few weeks ago. I’ll tell you about it.

Continue reading “The Stories Your Mother Never Told You. Part 6.”