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I finally got whatever bug it was that has been going around the house. I was the last to catch it and had perhaps let my guard down. Really, I deserved it, flitting about with the careless arrogance of a sailor on shore leave without a worry in the world; who knew I would catch a virus? I went home about 11am yesterday and crawled into bed, slept until everyone got home at five'ish, got up for two hours, felt weary but wasn’t sleepy, consumed two valium and headed back upstairs. I woke at 5 am the next morning and felt great. Perfect, except for the 10 hours preceding waking up.
I am no oneirologist and after this don’t want to be. Now mind you, sex dreams are always a bit uncomfortable in the sense that I am either in public, can’t close the deal or the third person to enter the room. In this case I found something new to haunt me.
A Venezuelan hottie with a c-section scar. Hugo Chávez be damned I tapped her in a laundromat. I presumed this because there was dirty laundry and a vending machine. (it was either an oil rich country with gross class stratification or the front porch of a frat house) Much like this paragraph there was little intro. I suddenly found myself inexplicably propping her up and fully “engaged.” Everything is great- Full, supple breasts, positive feedback, and well coifed yet carefully defined pubic hair (either precise shaving or alopecia perfected by god.) While gazing across her russet skin I, with shock, noticed the telltale scar. The MILF, or MIF in this case, was not the issue but the scar became a point of fixation. So much so, that I stopped...that is not me.
Looking through the lens of an ametuer oneirologist, I am thinking that my illicit multinational dream may serve to fulfill my sub conscious desire for true world peace, yet the scar serves as a reminder that my political ideology combined with first hand awareness of corrupt governments worldwide will always prevent me from putting any resources towards realizing true world peace. Or I don’t like scars. Not sure.
More to follow.
Our neighbor has had her guest house unoccupied for at least four years until about two months ago a gentleman moved in. All was well until the night I walked into the alley to see the Washington County Sherriff with him handcuffed in the back seat. This is odd as I rarely see this from the side of the door that you can open. Also, keep in mind, the biggest crime in our area is someone parking overnight on the street; I am not kidding NOTHING happens. After the Deputy left with the tenant I tapped on my neighbors door to find out what was going on.
“He was down by the lake fishing and his ex-wife had him arrested. She’s a lawyer so she knows all those tricks.” Mind you, Lady B is an 85 year old widow and maybe not of sound mind; or just simply lonely. Regardless I kept my mouth shut and held back from responding with “Oh yes, the old ‘get your husband arrested for fishing trick’…a true judicial classic” As we talked the holes in the story dilated which led me to perform a perfunctory background check where I found out he was recently convicted of beating said wife then stalking her. A true peach no doubt.
As he is a wife beater (or ex-wife beater ur, I mean beater of ex-wife’s…come to think of it I am not sure...it's really timing I suppose.) I am inclined to despise him. Unfortunately, society has not caught up with me therfore the death penalty is not appropriate and ”slappy” does need be able to operate in society. In that spirit, and on a quick sidebar, there should be a work release program/partnership between probation offices and the stockyards (no Soylent Green references please.) The convicted could work on the kill line and they could be triggered into action visa-vi a speaker hung around the bovines neck that blares out “I don’t love you anymore” or “I slept with your brother.” The convict/employee would simply dispense with the animal. Strangle, punch, drown…we don’t need to micromanage this process. Beyond really tapping into a person’s potential this is a true green program as no longer would high voltage electric shockers be needed.
Anyway, my problem. Slappy has been snow blowing my driveway and sidewalks along with others in the neighborhood this winter. During the first couple of snow events, as the Weather Douches call them, (a few inches only) I harped around the house about the wife beating pig staying off my lawn. With a 6” snowfall, I commented on his persistence; not quite as mad though. With the heavy 12” plus inches over Christmas I was ready to go out and tip him for doing such fine work. The conundrum is obvious and I am not sure how to deal with this. I don’t want this violent criminal on my property but I really don’t want to snow blow either…what to do, what to do. To date I have compromised my principals in exchange for some good cheap labor. I don’t think I can go to hell for this but it doesn’t bode well with my sense of consistency. For the time being I am going to have to let this play out. Everything depends on future snowfall amounts and his lawn care acumen come spring.
After seeing two more god damn ads on animal abuse; one with Wendie Malick and the other with Sarah McLachlan I am compelled to take a "Blame America First" approach. Have we considered what these animals have done to cause them to be attacked?
Obama honors fallen Americans at Dover - Yahoo! News
Source: news.yahoo.com
Hours after a personal encounter with the grim cost of war, President Barack Obama said Thursday the sight of 18 flag-covered cases holding the remains of Americans killed this week in Afghanistan can't help but influence his thinking about sending more
Showing the caskets with the families’ permission is fine. But this hack making himself the center of attention in this solemn context is simply unpardonable. Please note, that all other presidents during periods of war have done the same thing; they simply didn’t bring the White House Press with them. They are what may be called leaders. I am strained to find one redeeming characteristic of this cheap media whore.
