Russian Watch...Proverbial Plate My Ass Chapter 5

By Nellie Cake

Feudin banjos from the movie, Deliverance is echoing throughout the jail. The Feudin banjos was created the year I was born, 1955. City folks ridicule inbred Hillbillies in real life. I can't stand that movie, but we can't battle the framework the lion's share rules. I'm writing compliments of a two year stay with the County. Raping, inbreeding and screwing creatures in Appalachia's mountains is valid.

Hillbilly men screw the damnation out of women and animals, but so do ministers and city men in suits. I grew up with this wiped out poo with a lot of the men on both sides of my family. Family wants me to shut up about it all, but that's not going to happen. My mom's side of the family plays guitars, banjos, pianos, and accordions by nature with no lessons.

I had an awesome grandma and awesome aunts who I loved spending the summers with and dad and mom practically had to drag me away from grandma, my aunts and uncles. We didn't have city garments mom and dad couldn't afford clothes for all of us. I wore hand me downs and mom's clothes. Hillbillies have huge families, mostly blood kinfolk, holler creatures.

There are many dark secrets on both sides of the family, but if laundered in public family disowns me quick. I'm writing compliments of a two year stay with the County. Interbreeding was as common as moonshine, double barrels, Cock battles, and homegrown weed. We built outhouses and later put doors on them. I was born in Indianapolis, Indiana, but childhood was spent in Appalachian mountains with my debased Hillbilly family.

My two older brothers, uncles and cousins assaulted and raped us girls convincing us it's our fault for enticing them. Dad believed all women are born whores and lure men. Explain to a nine year old what luring and a whore is. When the boys were caught trying to rape me or I snitched the family didn't want me around, I expose evil. There was no escape from dad's manhandling. Dad thought mom was screwing men.

I know she tried because I took notes from mom to men, but no one sane could have blamed her. Dad was a Pentecost Oneness evangelist preacher, a volunteer fireman and medic working three days on and three days off. Dad also maintained the Dependable Fire Extinguisher and Equipment Company. Us kids worked with dad on his business and construction. He was a false prophet preacher Charlatan and hated me, but I adored him.

I'm marked a preacher's daughter forever. I anticipated bad circumstances so I fled into the mountains with nature's peace with the exception of uproarious creatures. I was learning to write with a stick in the dirt so I can write about what men on both sides of our families were doing to my sisters and me. I can't talk about a lot of what went on, but if it happened to me or I saw it with my eyes I can and will.

Everyone had large families and women of all ages were pregnant at the same time. Mom, aunts and grandma were having home births in different rooms. Normal was eleven to eighteen. Relatives were blood kinfolk inbreeding inside family. Grandma and grandpa were first cousins. Family originated in the mountains, but in dad's youth he was known in Winchester, Kentucky as a homeless alcoholic drug addict.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nellie Cake
• Release date: Jun 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463361580

Nellie Cake

Howdy; I'm Nellie Cake and these are "Memoirs From My Outhouse." I write adult only, violence, murders, rapes, beatings, and nasty words. True stories of murders, crimes, violence, rapes, drugs, incest, alcoholism, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, and erotic murder thrillers. I have forty years of experience in these subjects and forty years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol. I'm an Appalachian inbred Hillbilly and ain't nothing wrong with that. I also write Erotic Murder Thriller series.People who write similar stories usually are not an inbred Hillbilly which makes my story unique. Names were changed to get family and people from the past to shut the hell up. To be a real smart ass extended family is only mentioned. Hillbillies do make moonshine, grow weed, carry double barrel shot guns, and stay bare-foot. I guess city folk wants me to wash my cover all's more often. We don't eat the road kill lesson it's soft. If it's stiff the dogs get it.Four of my children were stolen like I'm a baby factory, the fifth became an armed bank robber with Jesse James. I was kidnapped, beat and raped at nine then witnessed the same man beat, rape and my two nine year old Hillbilly girl-friends. i witnessed the brutal beating and murder of an elderly man.My second husband was a wannabe Clint Eastwood carrying and arson, beating on me and hunting me like an animal. Many pregnancies I lived in the snow then many years hitching in snow hunting for them. Drug dealing and exotic strip dancing were a way to survive in the wake of being annihilated by spouses. I dated my home confinement officer and was honored with a Governor's pardon.My stomach exploded and took a year to walk. Lucifer threw a 16,000 pound building on me causing gangrene and took a year to walk. Worse case of MRSA in history took a year to walk. I maintained employments and continued writing through destitution, pregnancies, savagery, prisons, and northern winters.Life's accomplishments: I won six turkeys, nine trophies battling cocks, birthed five kids, won ten cakes, and caught nine ten pound Bass. I possess gloating rights to angling stories and jaded memories. I want a place for authors of any genre and victims of any crime to have a voice without family or people judging, preaching, bossing, and interfering.I understand they are Holier than me, but they make authors of my genre feel we're a bad image or influence on their precious perfect family. Every story I write is true. God is real, but He can not physically stop rapist, abusers, murders nor narcissist.It just wasn't working for me to be quiet all these years about so many rapes because I never told. So I started writing fiction, erotic murder thrillers. Morbid ways of killing all the men who raped me, and there were many, became my inspiration to write erotic murder thrillers.copyright 2018/Nellie Cake

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Chapter 5: Proverbial My Ass

The court and school systems has to re-register Micky again, but couldn't do it on an FCAT testing day. She's between childhood and womanhood she needs a mom! She pays half the bills. I got Billy legal, his truck tagged, insured, and license before he died. I do miss him sometimes. Truthfully just now was the only time. Maggie was picked up for truancy and put in the Jack. I cleared a quarter of an acre of Joanne's property and had huge bon fires. Big Amber convinced Micky I didn't love her.

Micky called from a hotel across town saying, Come get me I just got raped. I said; I'll kill him I'm bringing my gun. Big Amber sold Micky's coochie for crack. By the time I got there she had another ride home with a huge black man. Mike smarted off saying, Your a crack head whore you deserved this. He's always telling me to kick rocks now would be a good time for him to kick rocks. Later the huge black friend beat the man with a solid steel pipe and maimed him. NO MEANS NO!

Camille, a counselor from the Jack and Tony from came in our home once a week. I check in at their office once a week and I've been going to court for three years, counselors and school meetings with no kid. Big Amber is screwing a stinky black man in his 30's. His shoes and horrid body stench was stinking up the entire house. I took them outside with gloves. Mike and I were bullied out of my home. The court reschedules her trial with each new probation officer.

Ellen had the intuition Micky isn't as innocent as mom says. In front of a judge or probation officer when Micky is present I have to play the protective parent, the best friend that will never let them take her away. Last couple of years neighbors beg Mike and I to move back in to control her loud music and parties. I kept finding nasty men's clothing along with strange hair products only black men use. Neighbors kept telling me, There's a crack dealer staying in your house. I couldn't find anyone.

They were throwing my stuff out of my room into the middle room and breaking pictures, dolls, ceramic, and porcelain things. They were throwing the pans they were cooking with in trash cans with food in them in the middle room. Amber was cleaning out my room for her and her big black homeless crack slinging man. Mike said; Get down to your house your not going to believe this. A huge black man was naked passed out in my bed! The house smelled like sex, grease, nasty feet, and body odor.

I shook his feet and said; Hey you have to leave your in the heart of Bithlo. They hear Ole' Blue pull up they hide him. He yelled, Who the hell are you? I said; I'm Micky's mother and the owner of this house. There are five huge men, the manager and the law outside. The men escorted him out of the park. A little past dark the neighbors saw the girls let him in again. The men found him under my house in the dark his teeth gave him away. They drug him out and escorting him out.

Amber is huge and assaulted, Richy Rich and called everyone in the park nasty, vulgar names. Amber yelled, You don't want Micky I'm taking her out of your life. I said; "You