Last day in a long run of grand-whelp/beagle sitting. Good thing too as I am running out of beagle tongue twisters and songs I can substitute beagle for a proper noun (e.g. 1) Running down the road trying to loosen my load I got seven beagles on my mind … 2) Beautiful bad beta beagles bite beagle butts boldly with bated beagle breath).
The lack of furniture is killing me. Shoulder is giving me problems again. When I jumped through all the hoops that cumulated in ulnar/nerve surgery, all I really wanted was a shot in my shoulder. Shortly before I showed up, unannounced I might add, in mid-Michigan, 23 people had died of similar shots. See the deal is you have to make those things fresh to order. Some docs had taken shortcuts and bought shots from a wholesaler. It made all the other docs a bit gun-shy. I wasn’t getting steroid shots though; I was getting a super anti-inflammatory. I’ve been gun-shy of getting shots though.
I’m not sure how bitchs or motherfuckers hurt, but I’m positive my shoulder hurts like a bitch and/or motherfucker. Snow hit this area yesterday, nothing like the blizzards that have been sweeping the Midwest. This immediate area is a pocket of gray dull weather and though it snowed all day yesterday and most of this morning, there’s less than an inch on the ground. My daughter, after working all day, moved a couch upstairs, two flights of upstairs. Soaking wet she’s like 95 pounds and sixty two inches of raging fury. She brought help. The ex-boyfriend’s (previously mentioned as both The Prick and Douchebag) ex friend and ex employer (who suggested the letting go of his buddy from the gig he gave him out of pity might have gone down differently than heretofore told by the let go Prick/douchebag).
Hmmm, I’m not sure I like those as insults. I have no problems with pricks, well, I like my own and I understand in a rather removed way that hetero-sexual female primates are fond of a well turned prick, and I have no opinion derogatory or otherwise on douchebags except that I’d prefer they weren’t hanging from the curtain rod in the place I’m planning on shower, mostly because I don’t know where else to put them. Motherfucker or asshole would probably work better except that I like his mother and she could do better and assholes actually function on a daily (hopefully) basis. All the various terms for female gentalia? Yeah, no, I like female gentalia, though twat might be an appropriate insult for him.
Anyway, the ex’s ex employer/friend couldn’t tell the story in front of the grand-whelp, a courtesy I’m sure the douchebag has no qualms violating with his own creepy part time kid. The grand whelp doesn’t feel overly heartbroken at the lack of said douchebag in his life. Ten year old boys are very sensitive about such things and whereas I think he’s an exceptional child I’m well aware that grandparents always think that and so I could be biased. It’s likely that the grand whelp knew as well as anyone that said douche was a douche and is too polite to cuss him and/or doesn’t want to mention it in front of the G-R-O-W-N-U-P-S (imagine I was spelling that so the grownups wouldn’t know I was talking about them). For some reason or other Michigan drivers (who, as a group, I have much more respect for that Oregon drivers, specifically Portland. If it weren’t for Seattle drivers I think Portland drivers would be the absolute worst in the states, though, per capita, that might go to Alaskan drivers. To be fair to Alaskan drivers the ones that wrap their cars around a moose are drunk off their asses. In Portland and Seattle they do stupid shit all the time mostly sober. Mostly braking for ghosts and drifting five lanes while braking or doing forty in the passing lane.) Shit. Michigan drivers have this thing about driving country roads with their brights on. When it’s snowing the entire sky is back lit, I could almost drive without headlights at all.
I need new glasses; the protective coating is coming undone and makes clouds in the center of my vision, when they are hit with high beams the whole world goes Nova-bright. I have a date with the optometrist tomorrow. I’m getting good glasses this time. A little spendier but not by much and my glasses “bargains” don’t seem to last very damn long and not from being sat on or lost.
The first time I ever got glasses I had great insurance and got a full eye exam and Armani glasses for damn near free. Up until that point I had twenty twenty vision, though, I’m sure, the astigmatism sort of had to be with me either since birth or when I was done developing. I mean one eyeball doesn’t change shape at 33. As a kid I thought glasses were a cool ass accessory and tried to fail eye tests. Didn’t work.
It’s possible I will --- aw shit. Had a phone call, giggled a lot, lost my train of thought.
Y’all behave and if you can’t just act natural when the cops come. Oh, not you or you y’all should just mimic how other folks are acting natural, your “natural” is so very far from the normative range you look guilty peeling an orange.
And I’m spent.
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