Siiighhh... okay so nobody likes it when I get soft and mushy, huh? Fine.

Put on yer fuckin' seatbealts, then and yank those fuckers TIGHT.

Ya want pissed? Okay.
We can do pissed. I AM alive, after all....

HOWEVER, if I were to die on Thursday, it would have rained EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!!!! AND, I'll probably have drowned in the goddamn driveway.

See?

Today: Showers
High: 75
Low: 68
Sunday: Scattered Thunderstorms
High: 75
Low: 68
Monday: Scattered Thunderstorms
High: 74
Low: 65
Tuesday: Rain/Thunder
High: 72
Low: 64
Wednesday: Scattered Thunderstorms
High: 76
Low: 66
Extended Forecast at weather.com

Yo, God... I said "for about three or four DAYS", Big Guy. DAYS!!! Not weeks. What, I've got two horses now, so instead of ever RIDING again I should start a fuckin' ARK, or what? Fuck, man.....

Then, there's Jon. Yes, Jon the Professional Liar, only this time it's not his lying (about the two palimino's he's been given, complete with tack, by some old guy who died and whose family doesn't want the horses, so they gave them to him and which he'll be keeping at his Bosses place til he gets his own place ready, which I must say has not one board of a barn nor strand of fence). Nope, it ain't that that's pissin' me off NOW.

NOW, it's his showing up whenever the fuck he feels like it and walking right on into this house like it was his own. He did it again this morning.

As much as I hate that on a regular basis, I ESPECIALLY hate it when George is gone, there ARE no kids and Eric and I FINALLY have 30 seconds to ourselves, except NO WE DON'T, because here comes THAT ASSHOLE.

First off, I hate clothes.
No, really, I mostly hate him. Clothes are merely annoying when it's hot and humid.
Second, I JUST MIGHT be in here, you know, in the PRIVACY of this house, doing something I may not want to see on America's Funniest Videos or even being done in front of ANYBODY, except maybe Eric.

Wanna know what it is? Wearing a long shirt and nothing but, when it's hot, mostly. That's the biggest thing, anyway. Sonovabitch comes in here alla time and I can FEEL HIS EYES LIKE FINGERS running around the hem of this shirt, just looking for a way to get an eyeful. Fuck man, not even George does that. (Course I was married to him and the first person who even THINKS about going there or suggesting any such solution about Jon gets it, HARD, right between the eyes. It'll be a bullet, yes, but it will have been delivered and implanted with my FIST.)

This is being solved as we write/read, however. First thing I did was go the fuck off when he did it this morning. Now, Eric and I had talked about this, so I'm not just imagining it. Jon does "look where he ain't supposed to", to put it Eric's way. So, I said, "Okay. Then I don't want him doing it anymore." All was fine and agreed. Then, here he comes again this morning. (Okay. I must be getting PMS here. I just went off like Drill Instructor (not Sergeant (which I had spelled wrong anyway), sorry- fixed @7:11pm) Hartman on a FLY. Motherfuckers are pissin' me off, here. Just let me wipe the spittle from my verbiage offa the moniter... and convince the cats it really is safe to come back out. I think they're all under the frig now, or something. Hell, even the characters in Lonsome Dove stopped action and looked at me, I do believe.) Okay... Jon... yeah. Hate that when he just walks right in. So, after he did it again today, I was in the bathroom (my usual hiding place) and I decided "Fuck this, let's end it, now."

Trying to be "nice", I bounced Stephen King's "Hearts in Atlantis" offa the bathroom door to get Eric's attention. (Yeah, I do that alot. Beats screaming.) He comes in, reaching for a coffee cup. "No, not that. I don't even HAVE coffee right now. Come IN here and shut that."
He does.
"Look, damn it. This has GOT to stop. (He nods.) Now, you were with me, you HEARD me get told BY KIM, at MY OWN DAD'S house that time, that I "really SHOULD call before you come here." (/snotty voice) You remember that? (He nods.) Well, same deal. Got it? (He nods.) If I hafta call (WHICH I DID, KIM!!!!!) before I go to my own Dad's house, this brown toothed, spittin' in my freshly lined trashcans, lying ASSHOLE can damned well call HERE before he just walks in, right? (He nods.) FUCK! At least I'm related to Dad, if memory serves. I am, aren't I?" (He nods.) (Hey, sometimes I almost forget, okay? Gimme a break.) (rotflmfao because I looked up and saw I'd missed the 'r' in 'break' and so had asked for a BEAK!!!! God help me, I'm about to bust a gut....) Yeah, gimme a beak, so I can peck this fucker to death.... Hang on, I can't breathe....

*puffin', pantin', wiping eyes... whew*

So, anyway, Eric takes all that and turns it into "Well, Jon, she was naked and ya just can't do that." (/Reagan voice) Yeah, that'll stop him, alright. He'll NEVER try THAT again, now... Good one, Ricky-tick. (You bonehead... sigh.) Why can you not just tell this happy asshole that it's NOT HIS HOUSE TO JUST WALK INTO and that I am a homicidal maniac who will CUT OFF HIS (ugly little, bad teeth infected) HEAD NEXT TIME? Can ya TRY THAT, HUH?!?!?

Besides... I WAS NOT NAKED!!!! (this time.) (like it matters.)

Then, I remembered a piece of advice I got about the kids.

"Lock the door when they go out it."

Oooo yeah... I like that and Lord knows I do need practice, so "click"... door is LOCKED and I am SAFE. (At least until Eric gets done work at which time I'm sure Jon'll be following him in here again like a horrendous fart funk.)

Gee, maybe yesterday's festivities got under my skin more than I thought... ya think? I was gonna do a post about that, but... ya know what? It can be summed up thusly:

She lied again.
I was right.
She sucks.
HE wasted $1000.00.

End of story. Or, should be, anyway. Neither I, nor he (George) knows yet what his next move is gonna be. He wants to do so much, all at the same time, but each thing requires it's own mint (money, not "after dinner") to do, so he's gonna hafta choose. Set himself up like he wants, with his own place, car, etc. or continue to throw good money after bad for a stupid little asshole who has no idea of truth, let alone how to speak it.

I'm voting for "Fuck her", frankly. (Well, not that frankly to him, but... you know what I mean.) That'd be better than gambling your very life on the premis that she's being FORCED TO LIE AGAIN and that she'd say any different when the chips are down. I don't think she would. Dis gon' be wuuun fucked up woman, lemme tell ya. Even worse than the normally horrific ones. Like... Eileen Wornos bad... Lizzie Borden bad, even. And, since no one knows where in hell's half acre her crack whore mother even IS, AND since I was the last one married to "Daddie Dearest", let's just not even go there, m'kay? If there are any "40 whacks" to be delivered, I think we'd ALL be better off if I was the one delivering them TO HER, via my "clue club"... ya know?

Siiiigh...

Does this shit ever end? I mean, do ya hafta DIE to be left the fuck alone? Cause, I will, ya know, if I HAVE TO. I can be like Elvis and Mr. Mojo Risin' in that regard... (as well as being able to sound like either of them singing). I can fake a death... or NOT... depending to who's we're talkin' about.

Heh... Eric just popped in (after I unlocked the door) for more cookies and I pointed out the basic flaw in his "logic" with regard to making Jon STOP IT, DAMN YOU!!!!

He agreed. I'm right that tellin' that fuckhole I'm naked is the exactly WRONG way to handle this. I ran my "homicidal maniac" theory past him and even offered to follow up with homicidally appropriate behavior, but I think he's got it now....

We shall see, no?
(Well, we will, but Jon won't. Ever.)

Well, I can see by the little slide-thingy over to my right, that this is long enough now. It's only about a quarter inch thick at this point. I can yammer on til it's a mere slip of slide-thingy, but... I do feel a need to go "read" for a bit.

So... there it is.
An "insane rant" as opposed to fluffy bunnies and kittens like early this morning.

(Bet this one gets comments.... lol.)

Talk to ya's later... Kissy, kissy, kissy, HUG on all y'all.
*grin*

(Actual weather crap added @ 6:50pm)

Posted by: Stevie at 04:33 PM

Comments

Posted by: Mad Mikey at July 24, 2004 05:27 PM (5X6l5)

Posted by: Peter at July 24, 2004 11:10 PM (b/7hi)

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