Custody Hearing – I Won it All, Bitches! Fuck My Son and What He Wants!

565 views | 0 comments

This morning, Patrick and I had a custody hearing in the family court.  Patrick was asking the court to allow our son to choose, for himself, who he will live with.

Well, fuck Patrick!  The court denied him everything and gave me full, unquestioned authority over every fucking thing that has to do with our son.  Not because Patrick did anything wrong or is a bad parent.  Just because I am that fucking good.

Before we go any further, and before you actually listen to the hearing, let’s get one thing straight: In my mind, this is a win – pure and simple!  If you haven’t figured it out yet, my son is nothing more than a token for me to use against Patrick.  I couldn’t possibly care less whether our son wants to be with me, whether he loves or hates me, as long as there is a court order legally requiring him to be with me.  I realize, though I’ll never admit it, that what Patrick wants is for our son to hate me, and by forcing him to stay with me even though what he really wants is to go back with his father, I am causing exactly that to happen.  So, even though I consider court ordered custody a “win”, it’s actually very much a loss.  But then, since I don’t give a fuck about my son, who the fuck cares?  As long as him and Patrick can’t see each other.

Here’s the recording of the entire hearing:

Notice how the judge didn’t even order any kind of visitation.  He left it all up to me!  What the fuck is up with that?  I mean, he basically said “Miss Capuano, I’m going to ignore all this evidence of your drug use, your neglect, the huge number of lies that you’ve made in this court, and I’m going to allow you to have complete control over whether or not your son will be allowed to visit, or even talk to, his father.  Even though you have a history of refusing visitation, I’m going to ignore that and pretend like you’ve never refused any visits.”

Even though Patrick provided concrete proof that I’ve been lying through my teeth to the court, the court actually continued to believe me.  For example, even though Patrick provided a police report where James admitted to listening to Patrick’s and our son’s phone calls, I told the court he never said that – even though the judge had the police report right there in his hand – and the dumb fucker actually believed me.

Some of you are probably thinking, “It’s because of this website.  That’s why the judge gave Desiree everything.”  While, come on, that’s a little naive, don’t you think?  Let’s not forget, this website was created because of the family court refusing to do anything.  The court was refusing to do anything about my drug use, all the criminal shit, and my compulsive lying long before this website was created.

Proof That I Really Am a Sociopath

If anybody out there is still questioning whether I really am a sociopath, as claimed on this website, all you have to do is listen to me in this hearing.  Notice how quickly and easily I go from laughing and joking with the judge (at 11:15), to sounding completely defeated when talking about this website (at 23:30), then to sounding self-righteous when talking about having Patrick deported (25:29), then sounding defensive and accusatory when trying to deflect the blame for not allowing our son to visit Patrick over his winter break (26:39), to sounding afraid for my safety when talking about the possibility of allowing Patrick and our son to use Skype to communicate (31:16).  And all that within a 20 minute window.

What’s important here is the apparent sincerity in my tone when I make each of those statements.  If you listen to each separately, you will surely conclude I am being truthful and sincere.  But, when you consider that each of those statements was made only a few minutes apart – well, only a true sociopath can flip their emotions so dramatically, so quickly.

Conclusion

So there you have it folks.  No matter what I ever do, no matter how egregious my behavior is, the family court is never, ever going to return our son to Patrick – because he’s a dirty fucking illegal alien who was deported!

And no matter how much my son hates me for doing this, it doesn’t make a lick of difference because I am the one with all the power, and the little, ungrateful bastard will stay in my house whether he likes it or not.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Please enter the missing number to confirm you're real. *