Lament for Undies......

If anyone is wondering where Mr Underhill has gone to, I managed to cache his last post before he shuffled off this mortal blogosphere.

Here is it:

The Moon is in the Gutter.

"By Mister Underhill

I'm sorry for all the lies, and I'm sorry I gave you venerial warts. You were right all along, though you never had proof...I have been with 2 other girls just from my blog after I promised not to be with anyone else. I also made out with that girl at work I told you about, and I have been sleeping with my realtor whenever I see her for over a year.

I am sorry for all the lies to everyone, and to you especially.

I am even more sorry for how much I have hurt my wife. She called me this morning, crying. I had told her about my blog a long time ago, but she is not a big computer person, but I guess she was bored on her trip and decided to go through some old email and saw my URL link. I had honestly forgotten that she even knew about my blog. She has been crying all weekend.

I wish I could say that this is the first time I have behaved like this, but it is not. I don't even know why I do this to her. She is beautiful (some of you have met her or seen her pictures and can attest to this), and is an amazingly wonderful person. Surely much more than I could possibly deserve. She also would do anything for me, and is always ready to have sex with me...if anything she tries to constantly just to keep me from playing around but it is somehow not enough. I feel like I need to have more, and I do not even know what it is I am missing.

I started blogging in the first place because I was not allowed to go out any more. Any time I went out, I would end up with some slut, or more likely just some sweet, naive girl who believed all the ready lies that comes so easily to my lips.

Where they come from, I can't imagine. Sometimes, I think they come right from the devil; inside I know what to say, and some part of me screams and says not to say it but I can't resist it.

My favorite targets are married women. They generally will not say anything if they find out I am married, and it gives an excuse for me not to commit too much, and not to have to spend too much time with them. Just through blogging I have broken up two marriages, and I just slept with a married woman from my blog all last weekend. Afterwards I felt so guilty my stomach hurt, but I still did it, and I can't explain why. I have a completely different set of lies for every girl, and it is a challenge to me to keep it all going. I was surprized that I was able to keep it going so long, but unlike Sandra, most of the girls I have met have wanted to keep things as quiet as possible, especially if they went bad. My only mistake is I always tell the truth when I get drunk enough, and that is how all of this came crashing down.

I shouldn't be married. I know this. Maybe I should not be alive, even. I think about suicide every single day. I have been playing "The mercy seat" from Johnny Cash all weekend, and every note strikes a chord deep inside me...I wish I had that kind of release. Unfortunately, I do not. I have responsibilities. I also have 3 children to worry about. Two with my wife, and one from a previous relationship. I don't even have visitation rights with my son, and his mother hates me with an amazing, and deserved passion.

I moved in with my mother last year, for two reasons. It has nothing to do with finances, either. My wife has the house in her name, and I check the mail and send it to her twice a week while she is away...and I stay here so my mother can watch the girls, and watch me too. Right now she is dancing at the crazy horse in Paris (no, not a strip club). This is the most prestigious place a showgirl could dance, and for her it is a dream come true. Now, I have ruined THAT for her, too. She is so upset she is flying back tomorrow on the first flight she could get.

How I wish I could die, but I have to take care of the girls and help out with my son. The only thing I can do for them without fucking up is make money. At least this evil brain can do something useful for them. I feel like such a hypocritical ass, because I freak out on them if they tell the smallest lie...I just pray this is not somehow genetic. If it is, if I try hard enough, maybe I can stamp it out of them.

I lost my last job because I was caught fucking the receptionist in my office. I could have at least kept my dick in my pants long enough to build my savings back after buying land to build our dream house. Yet another thing I fucked up. There's months of looking for land (while I fucked the realtor, who is also married, on the side), 25k for surveys and custom architecture work, and 30k to get to work on floodproofing the area...all wasted. Everything I have worked for, wasted. Thankfully I did get another job that is even better than the last one, but already I am fucking it up by doing innapropriate things with one of the girls who works there.

If it's any consolation, I do hurt, and I do miss you. I do think I loved you...this kind of thing sometimes becomes obvious once someone is gone. I was happy when I had you. I also loved the one girl I told you about...and I have repayed her by breaking up her marriage and making her family hate her before she realized what a liar I am. I am sorry to you, and sorry to everyone, but there is nothing I can do to fix what I have done, or to fix myself. I can just remember going out to my dad's to take care of my grandpa, and having three girls meet me while I was there and had no supervision. My wife and mother thought my dad would supervise me. Ha...my dad is as bad as I am, and he was not even there, anyhow. I just remember my wife being so happy, thinking I had become a better person because I was taking care of him...totally oblivious to the knife I was sliding into her back.

My wife used to joke that she was going to tatoo the word cheater on my cock, but sometimes I wonder if this wouldn't be a good idea. After today, I am not so sure I will be blogging any more. My wife says when she comes back she is going to rip the modem out of the wall, and throw out any cellphones she finds (again) and talk to my boss (who is her uncle) and have him block out blogger and gmail from work.

So, I guess this is about it for the underhill blog. I was good for a while. I started a year ago almost, and for half that time all I did was shoot the shit and occasionally flirt. I guess there isn't anything I can't find a way to pervert and ruin.

"It's beefsteak when I'm hungry, and whiskey when I'm dry.
It's greenbacks when I'm hard up, and hell when I die."


Well, there you go then.