Just have to remember to keep breathin', is all...

I haven't felt like this since I was a teenager, the morning of a horse show. Excited and nerved up, to the point of nausea. Gawd....

Plus, that stupid little terrorist sumbitch STILL hasn't 'declared himself' if ya know what I mean... But, pissed off as I got for a while yesterday, it's GOT to be soon. I just want it over with.

Anyway, between that and whom is involved in the thing that's got me excited, it's no wonder I feel sick.

Action, that Quarter Horse I've mentioned a coupla times, is supposed to be here TODAY. As long as nobody fucks up we- Eric, me and JON THE LIAR GUY(!)- are supposed to be picking him up around 4:00pm, give or take a half hour either way.

Now, what pissed me off yesterday is Jon again... of course.

He's the one who "found" Action. He delivers hay to the people who own him and when they said they wanted a good home for Action, he told them about us and the rest is.... tormented history.

Let's just set aside the fact that, ORIGINALLY, this was supposed to ba a birthday present for Eric. And, that his birthday was last month. We'll just toss aside all THAT bullshit aggravation aside and deal with the past two days.

(And, remember, this is only ONE of the overheated powder kegs I'm sitting on... Lord, my ass must be wider than I think... lol)

The lady who owns the horse called me last week and asked me if I thought Eric might still be interested in Action. I told her, "Hell, I KNOW he is." and giggled. The upshot being that they'd had to put a dog to sleep (we all knew that was gonna happen), then, unexpectedly, Bob's Dad died. (Bob her husband, not Bob the chicky-chaser from here...) So, before they went to Florida to take care of that, Bob told Barbara she may as well call Eric, because he still wanted Eric to have Action, but he just couldn't bring himself to be the one... ya know, to make the call. Poor guy... Jeez.

So, the way we (Barb and I) left it was that we'd make the arrangements to come get Action and I'd call her Friday (last) night and let her know the details.

(Now, I hafta run outside and help Eric with a coupla cow-related thangs, so, I'm gonna draft this and I'll be back shortly... in case this gets posted at some bizzare time, like say, midnight...)

Well, Christ. THAT was hot. And, I mean temperature-wise, not "sexy". Imagine, if you will, an arctic-type mole who is suddenly thrust into the heat and glare of Pizmo Beach... same reaction for me, going out of the dimly lit, air-condition recesses of my house at this time of day. The horror. My eyes! and all that, ya know? Plus, with my hair, sweating is instaneous. Feels like it weighs a ton. Whew...

*Ahhh, yes, Glasshoppa. You have now discovered reason why you tend to ride horse at dusk. Velly good.*

Aaanyway...

Jon was RIGHT THERE when I talked to Barbara last night. He HEARD me tell her everything was set. Now, what was 'set', was this... He is supposed to use the-Bob-who-lives-here's trailer, IF Kim (the little chippy) gets it back when she's supposed to. If not, we were SUPPOSED to be able to use Jon's bosses trailer as a backup. So, after I get done talking to Barbara, Jon, the fuckhole, decides to tell me that his saddle and hackamore (which I again doubt the very existence of) won't be available for Eric til Monday, which pisses me off a bit. It's already supposed to have been here by now, about 3 times. Then, after I get out in the fields, I'm talking to Eric (by radio) about what time we need to leave by if Kim fucks up so that we'd have time to get Jon's bosses trailer and still be on time, when I get informed that Jon's bosses trailer is no longer gonna be available, after I'd just made Eric make JON check to be sure it still was yesterday! I freaked.

Lord Gawd, I'm surprised I didn't launch me and Storm halfway to the moon, I was so livid. Like, okay, what the fuck else can Jon be lying about? I wanted to call the third guy that we'd hafta pay, right then. We didn't though. Eric is CONVINCED Jon won't let him down on this one. How he can know that, with Jon's record, is beyond me, but the lying dipshit has already been here this morning and told Eric he's ready when we are, but... *shudder*

Oh, and the best part? I do NOT, under any circumstance or for ANY reason, wish to be TRAPPED in any kind of small space, like say, a PICKUP, with this moron right now. (Jon, I mean.) I simply will NOT be able to survive having to be that physically close to someone I detest to such a degree, especially when I MUST keep my mouth shut tight right now.

Well, Mr. Dip-in-the-truck-and-SPIT-ON-THE-FLOORBOARD (ew) has solved that problem for me by (allegedly) sadly declaring a moratorium on smoking in this particular truck. It belongs to his boss and, allegedly, HE doesn't want it smoked in.

Fine.

I'm sittin' in the back, then. Me, my Walkman, Stephen King, my smokes and my coffee. Precludes me from having to be around him, anyway.

Have I mentioned how MUCH I wanna make this dork bleed?

IF IT RAINS, I'm sitting in the back. Be hard to light cigarettes, I suppose, but, it'd still be a huge improvement over being in the cab near him.

All I want right now, is to get Action here, unloaded, and be done with superfluous humans. Of which Jon is several.

Bottom line?

Life itself is full up enough of bullshit, aggravation, strife, pain and tears. Any of that that I can plainly see is needless, I do away with.

Why is that so hard to understand? Why does that make me a "bad" kind of person? Why is it that THAT is considered 'abnormal' somehow?

I think it's much more stupid, retarded, useless remarkable to voluntarily eat shit for no tangible reason.

Maybe it's just me.

I dunno.

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 12:00 PM

Comments

Posted by: web search at January 21, 2005 06:21 PM (PpN/D)

Posted by: family porn at January 21, 2005 06:24 PM (PpN/D)

Posted by: sports tickets at July 15, 2005 08:14 PM (WBHE0)

Processing 0.0, elapsed 0.0083 seconds.
18 queries taking 0.0065 seconds, 11 records returned.
Page size 11 kb.
Powered by Minx 0.8 beta.