Who gives a fuck what other people think?

Me and Mom was sitting down over dinner and I mentioned that tomorrow would've been Pop's 73rd Birthday.
Mom said she was making his favorite dinner, corned beef and cabbage and taking it to the cemetery and having lunch with him. "People are going to think I'm weird but....."
"Fuck 'em" I interrupted.
"I love you, Son."
"Love you too, Mom"

Holocaust rememberance

WARSAW, Poland (AP) -- Holocaust survivors, politicians, religious leaders and others marked International Holocaust Remembrance Day on Sunday with solemn prayers and the now oft-repeated warnings to never let such horrors happen again.

Events took place at sites including Auschwitz-Birkenau, the former death camp where Hitler's Germany killed at least 1.1 million people, mostly Jews, in southern Poland. In Warsaw, prayers were also held at a monument to the fighters of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of 1943.

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*****

I remember back in '79 going to Dachau concentration camp on a tour. Back then, they were still denying that it was a death camp, claiming that it was just a 'work' camp - not a death camp even though they worked the prisoners to death. Since then they've discovered that the shower heads in the shower room weren't connected to any plumbing so that kind of blew the theory about nobody being exterminated to hell.

Anyways, as we were walking from the parking lot through where the barracks once stood I noticed a crunching beneath my feet and was horrified to find that I was walking on bone shards.

Once we got to the exhibit halls that were once admin buildings, there were a few things that really struck hard - the rooms filled to the ceiling with hair braids cut from the female prisoners, the piles of eyeglasses that belonged to real human beings and the room filled with shoes but the worst by far was the crematorium. As I recall, there were only 3 ovens in there but all of them still had ashes in them. And the smell of burnt flesh - after 44 years, that stench was still there.

And people question why I support Israel - if some of these fucking American nazis had seen that I think they'd have a different point of view.

It's the little things in life that make it worth living

Go into your local Hindu Stop-n-Rob and pay for something on your debit card and when the little screen pops up asking if you want cash back and how much, hit yes, other amount, and then enter some weird amount like $1.37.
Inside of a week you'll be driving Hari the Hindu nuts wanting to know why. I've actually been 86ed from a store for doing that.

Facebook - The vampires

I had 'deactivated' my FB account a month or 3 ago because of it being a huge waste of time, energy and privacy. I didn't delete it completely because there were a shitload of pictures I had on there that I wanted to retrieve at a later date.
So last week sometime I signed back in to get my pictures, then realized I didn't have time to get sort through them all and figured I'd come back to it later. But while I was there I ran across a few folks that I friended and then got sucked back into the Facebook trap, spending an hour here and there intruding on people's boring-ass lives (I could really give a flying fuck less what you think about your favorite football team or your dog or your kids that hate you and I don't think anybody else does either) before realizing that I need to just dump that shit again.
So I deactivated it again. Why did I deactivate it instead of just deleting it once and for all? Because I still haven't got my goddamned pictures off there, that's why.
I know, I never learn.

At least I wasn't abducted by aliens

I was walking down a crowded street last night in the dark, unarmed and feeling very uncomfortable with the circumstances - people bumping into me and putting their hands on me when suddenly somebody came up from behind and threw their arms my chest and tried to throw me to the ground. I planted both feet, leaned forward a bit then twisted and gave him an elbow shot to the ribs as hard as I could.
"OW!!!" hollered Lisa as I sat straight up in bed, jaw and fists clenched.

Lisa? Lisa!!! Oh no, I was having a bad dream and hammered Lisa right in the ribs. Oh, shit. Thank God I was bound up with the covers and didn't hit her as hard as I was trying to.
Man, I felt horrible. I've never hit a woman in my life and here I've gone and popped my wife over a nightmare. I apologized over and over again until she told me to shut the fuck up and go back to sleep.
This morning over breakfast I noticed she was rubbing her ribs and I apologized again.
"Honey, it's okay, really. It was a bad dream. Quit worrying, it's just a little sore." I was breathing a little easier when she said that and then she continued "I'll pay you back tonight, don't worry."
Oh man.......

Before I even had my coffee......

Standing in line at the 7-11 this morning waiting to pay for my morning paper I heard this cholo mexican chick talking to Lalo the clerk.
"Our people say the world is going to end on December 21st so I maxed out all my credit cards so that my kids can have the best Christmas ev-ah!"
Lalo looked at me and rolled his eyes, trying to keep from laughing. I couldn't help myself...... "So you're going to give them their presents early then?"
She gives me a 'I-wasn't-talking-to-you' look. "No, what makes you say that?"
"Because Christmas comes 4 days after 'your people' claim the world is going to end. You just fucked yourself, man."
I tossed Lalo three quarters which he missed because he was laughing so fucking hard. "Merry Christmas, Lalo."
"Merry Christmas, Kenny."

How High's The Water, Mama?

That's Lisa's nephew Jesse out trying to clear a fucking drain near his place about 4-5 blocks from here.
We've only gotten about 3 inches, maybe 4 in the past 3 days but our yearly total up to this point was .87" of rain. No rain for months and months and then a deluge, and that fucking water is going to sit on that hardpan instead of soaking in. Not only that but it's flatter than a motherfucker around here so it's got nowhere to run to.
I was giving some serious thought to sandbagging around the patio door earlier as I was watching the water inch closer and closer but it's slowly receding now that the rains have taken a break.

And how many of you can give me the next line of the song in the title?

It's a Wirecutter Halloween

Some house down the road is giving out Slim Jims instead of candy, and not the cheap little one biters, either. These are 7-11 sized, man. The last half dozen little beggars to show up had a couple each in their alms baskets so I know it's gotta be close. I'm about ready to go borrow my psycho ex-neighbor's granddaughters and finding out which house it is - We'll be changing those kid's costumes every 15 minutes and running them by again and again for dried beef sticks.

Halloween was a lot more entertaining before Miss Lisa tamed CharlieGodammit down. That motherfucker would hit that security door full force, all 120 pounds, snapping and snarling and freak everybody out - kiddies, Milfs, dads, older siblings, everybody. The first year I had him it happened about 10 or 12 times thoughout the evening before folks started avoiding us. The second year the word was out and nobody came. Parents and kids were crossing the street to avoid our house.
Hey, I thought motherfuckers wanted to be scared on Halloween......
Yeah, so this year he's in the back yard licking his nonads and not even a little bit excited with all the people in the streets. I swear, that woman ruined him.

I thought about giving out habeneros to the beggars for Halloween this year on account they look like little punkins, you know, trying to get into the spirit of things here but Miss Lisa said that probably wasn't a good idea. Lawsuits and shit, you know?
I also thought about putting on my ghillie suit and being a sniper for Halloween but then realized they'd probably hammer me with extra charges for discharging a firearm within 1000 feet of a school if I got caught. Maybe next year.

My rant(s) for the day

Okay. Funeral and military graveside services are set for Saturday. Non-gay looking floral arrangements are taken care of. The jap car has been washed. Hospice stuff was picked up within hours of Pops' death. His obituary has been written. Condolences have been given and received and more fucking casseroles have been delivered than I thought possible. About the only thing I can think of is his marker - I'm going to try to sweet talk Mom into making sure there's a "III" on that motherfucker somewhere.

Now I'm fixing to go off: Casseroles. Jesus Christ..... What the fuck is it about casseroles and deaths? Are they trying to kill more of us off? Don't get me wrong - I do appreciate a good casserole occasionally. Occasionally. But when you're looking at 4 or 5 of those motherfuckers with a combined weight of 38.6 pounds...... Surely all those kind folks (and I am thankful for their generous hearts) didn't think 'Hmmm, I bet nobody bought Mrs. Lane a casserole today' did they? Ladies, we appreciate the thought but not the casserole.
Check this shit out - you want to bring something that is really gonna be appreciated? Bring a party tray of meats and cheeses. A couple of pizzas. Some hash brownies. Some fresh fruit kicks ass right then. Some venison jerky or some smoked fish would be tasty. Ice cream. Pleasure food, you know? Something filling, nourishing, tasty and quick.
I saw this shit coming and immediately distanced myself from any casseroles. As I said, I do appreciate a good casserole so I ate some of my first casserole last night - Aunt Fran's World Famous Enchilada Casserole and I'm fixing to have some more in a bit. It's world famous for a reason.... but had I been eating casseroles all along I'd be gagging them up by now.

And as long as I'm ranting let's talk about motherfuckers wanting to hug on me. My line of thinking is that if you won't hug on me any other time then keep your goddamned hands off me now.
Picture this: I'm sitting in Pop's chair (and there ain't a fucking thing he can do about it now) feeding a casserole to the dog and watching Predator Quest, not bothering nobody, and just as Les Johnson's about to make a spectacular shot, some woman I haven't even met comes up and throws her fucking arms around me and says "You must be Kenneth. I know how you feel, you poor thing."
No you don't, Godammit. You just made me miss his fucking shot. Get the fuck away from me.
I'm serious, man. I got relatives I haven't seen in 30-40 years coming up and hugging on me. There's a reason I haven't seen these motherfuckers in 30-40 years - it's because I don't like them. Can't they take a fucking hint? If I saw them on the street I wouldn't even acknowledge their existence, but now it's okay to hug on me? Again, get the fuck away from me. And stay away. I don't like strangers putting their hands on me, I won't tolerate letting people I don't like near me.
And one more thing before I go off on another tangent - If you do hug on me and happen to run across a knife or two and a firearm, try to keep it to yourself, yeah? Godammit, if you think you know me well enough to be hugging on me then you damned sure oughta know I'm carrying some weaponry. And believe me, everybody else in the room has already felt me up and is well aware of the fact that I have a gun on me and you know what? They don't fucking care. They're still there, ain't they? Fuck, if the law was to break in and search everybody in that house, they'd find 90% of the adults and maybe even a couple of the youngsters are carrying a gun too. Big deal. Shut the fuck up about it.

Okay. I'm done. Thank God for xanax.

On second thought.....

Lisa went into a shop this afternoon to pick something up so I bought something also. When we got home, I opened the package and found that the trinket I bought was broken so I grabbed the reciept and headed back down for an exchange. No big deal, shit happens, you know?
I explained to the owner the problem, gave him the reciept and smiled. He then pointed to the sign that said "No refunds or exchanges".
I quit smiling. "Naw, you don't want to be pissing me off now, man."
"Is that a threat you are making, Boss?"
"Yup. Uh-huh." I was looking around for shit to start breaking.
"Perhaps we can work something out. After all, it is not your fault." Turns out Hari the Hindu was a pretty reasonable guy after all.

The past couple of days here

Well, it's been a couple of days since I lost my Pops. Yes, it's sad but on the other hand you get to experience another part of life.

Thank God for my Uncle Ed. He's been like a fucking Rock through all this. Every time I went to Pops in the last days, he was either there already or just arriving. He's a hard motherfucker too - I ain't never seen that man shook up, even when he personally turned off the life support for his son after a car accident a few years back.

There's a bunch of shit that goes along with all that and it has to be done when you're at your lowest, right after you lost a loved one. Obviously it's a loved one, otherwise they'd just be chained up and deposited in a reservoir like...... never mind.
The family went to the mortuary and cemetery yesterday to make arrangements and I had a blast. I raided the candy jars in every room, tried to sneak a camel toe picture of one of the receptionists, passed out xanax to everybody in the room even offering some to the 'bereavement' dudes and babe - they refused and they were the ones that needed it the most - and was finally threatened with an escort when they caught me and Ed wandering the halls looking for the room they keep the dead dudes in. Them motherfuckers need to get a sense of humor, man.

I woke up this morning to a text from my little brother threatening me with a restraining order because I jerked his ass up short right after Pops died for being disrespectful. No, I did not break his rib like he claimed, I didn't thump him that hard. Fucking drama queen......

I took a couple weeks off work. Mom held the funeral off until the 1st so that we could get all of his family and friends here from all over the world. Some of these motherfuckers I haven't seen since I was a pup, so it's going to be interesting. Bunch of old dudes sitting around, drinking whiskey, telling war stories, trying to make everybody else believe that if only Westmoreland had just listened to him..... it's gonna be great.

So yeah, we all know life sucks and sometimes life kicks your ass. But if you don't stand up to it, deal with it and move on, then that's a lick on you.

An adventure in bedmaking

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Pops, III to III

Okay, so everybody knows that one of the reasons I took a break from this blog a couple of weeks ago was because of Pop's health.

It was worse than we thought. We got the results from his biopsy back Monday night. He has cancer, stage 4, no cure.

Now, we all knew it, the signs were all there, but to hear him come out and say it was a real motherfucker. That finalized it, you know?

 

Julie III came up yesterday as promised. I was expecting about a one hour visit but she ended up staying almost six hours, wouldn't leave until she was satisfied that everything was taken care of and all of our questions were answered. Within 2 hours, she had Mom fire Pop's doctor, had reviewed his charts and ordered more pain meds. Then she got on the phone and called hospice and set all that up. Then she went down and told the radiologist what he was going to do. She was like a redheaded whirlwind, man.

Lisa and I had read up in the type of cancer that he has that morning and saw that he has a life expectancy of 8 short months. Then when Julie asked Pops if he had any questions he asked her how long he was looking at. She didn't want to say, and she used the term 'clinically' a lot, but her answer was 3 weeks without treatment and about 12 weeks with treatment. Then she had to tell him that in her professional opinion, chemo just wasn't an option in his weakened state. She did order a big dose of radiation for the tumor in the bone in his arm to shrink it for pain release, but it's not going to extend his life by much, if any.

I'm pretty pissed - the man has been making weekly visits to his doctors for a few years now due to various health issues, yet his cancer went from undetectable to stage 4 overnight? Give me a fucking break.

So there it is.

 

So, I took a couple of days off work, yesterday for me and today to get Mom's house set up for hospice to bring him home in a couple of hours, but I have to go back to work tomorrow - I couldn't afford losing two days work as it was but you gotta do what you gotta do - family before bills. Plus I think getting my mind off this and into something else would probably do me good, that and getting back around some men for a change instead of all these damned women. I am holding up well though, even spent an hour online last night helping one of my readers getting set up to reload for the first time in his life which was a welcome change of place.

 

I do want to say one thing, though. I hope like hell that anybody that has to go through this either as a patient or family member has a nurse like Julie. She has a great personality and bedside manner, she's extremely knowledgeable and professional, but her compassion stands head and shoulders above everything else, proven by the fact that she came down to help a fellow Patriot for no other reason than she wanted to.

 

I gotta say that is is by far the toughest fucking thing I've ever gone through so far. I mean, we all know the day is going to come when something like this is going to happen but to suddenly (and I do mean fucking suddenly) have it right in front of you is a real bitch.

The one thing that I am so grateful for is the fact that me and Pops have gotten along real well ever since I was in my early twenties. I had the opportunities to learn from him, socialize with him, and be a friend to him as well as a son.

 

Hey, thanks to all of you for your understanding, support and patience. Thoughts and prayers would be appreciated. His name is Kirk Lane.

Another one bites the dust

I love Buck knives, in particular their Buck 110 folder. It's balanced well, just the right size and they're put together well. I'm one of those people that'll say "Yeah, I know a knife is not a pry bar and while I don't have a pry bar handy I do have my Buck knife" so I expect my knives to be tough enough to use for whatever I may need them for throughout my day.
I go through a 110 about every 2 years and I've yet to replace one because I broke it - they last until I wear them motherfuckers out as evidenced by the picture below.

The top knife was bought this morning, the bottom one is just a tad over 2 years old. You can tell I can't stand a dull knife, huh? And I use a stone to sharpen my knives for the most part.

I don't do a whole lot of modifications to the new knife other than grind some serrations into the brass where my thumb rests when cutting upwards to keep same from slipping and riding up the blade.

I'll also take some valve lapping compound and work it into the knife, spending a day or two doing it, so I can slide it out of it's sheath and thumb it open one handed.

I'll use the same sheath seeing as it's already molded to the shape of a Buck. I don't care for their stock leather sheaths anyways, that fucking snap goes after about 6 months so I bought a handful of cordura sheaths a few years back and I like those real well.

I always carry my knife the exact same way in it's sheath so there's no fumbling to open it - It comes out and my thumb lays on the flat of the blade and pushes it open.

Yes, I know everybody has their favorite knives. This is mine. It does everything I ask of it reasonably well be it skinning out a coyote, hammering small nails, trimming my fingernails or cutting through copper wire. And they don't break.

Buck Knives - Wirecutter approved. There's a reason the motherfuckers have been around since 1902.

Fun and games at the hospital

Yeah, so I went up and visited Pops today - he had a surgery Thursday and has some other shit going on so he's back in the hospital. Anyways, Mom texted that she wanted me to go up there and shave him so after I got my meat off the smoker I headed into town.
Anyways, I get in there and don the proper attire - facemask, gown and gloves - and wander in. Mom's there along with a couple of my nieces and Pops brother Ed and Cousin Skip, everybody watching the TV really intently. What the fuck's going on, did the arabs blow something up again? Then I walk into the room enough to see they're watching Professional Bull Riding with the sound down. Ahhhhh......

I don't know why I gotta wear all this shit anyways. If they're worried about maybe him being contagious wouldn't they think that his immediate family would've been infected before he was hospitalized? And if they're concerned about me passing something on to him how come they didn't say nothing about the dogshit I tracked through 4 floors of hospital? Somebody besides me had to have smelled it.

I asked him how his pain was and he just grimaced. A little later in the conversation I asked him if there was anything he needed and he said "Yeah, how 'bout my 45? Motherfuckers will listen then when I tell 'em I hurt."

"You bet" I said and bent down to hug him, catching that 'You-better-not-motherfucker' look from Mom, a look so intense that I caught myself before offering Pops to leave mine there with him.

For the first time in my life I managed to find my way out of the hospital without getting lost and having to take on calories at the cafeteria before continuing my quest for an exit, any exit. I walked out of his room and went right out the same door I came in. However I did get lost in the parking garage after finding the car. I swear to God I parked in the second stall when you enter, but instead of flipping around and driving out the entrance (there was absolutely no traffic) I decided to do the things the right way and find the exit. That motherfucker has 4 floors and I drove up and down every one of them going faster and faster, picking up a security escort along the way, finally whipping out onto the road I wanted to be on but going the wrong direction. I nailed it and jammed down this road until I came to a little traffic circle there which I made a few laps around giving the security dudes time to catch up in their little golf cart, then just as they got there I blew out of the circle past them and hit the road laughing my ass off.

I'm thinking I'm going to have to take my truck next time.

Dealing with Doc

Man, my lower back has been giving me fits lately, most of it muscle pain running the from hip to hip, almost like when my sciatica starts to kick in but on both sides.
So I went to see Doc about it this morning wanting him to work his magic. "Hi Kenny, what's up with you?'
"My fucking back is kicking my ass again. Do something, man. But I don't have time for physical therapy, I don't want any painkillers and I ain't wearing a back brace. Fuck that."
"So just what in the hell do you want me to do?" he asks tossing my records in the trash can. He does that a lot.
"How the fuck do I know, man? You're the smart one in the room."
We glare at each other for a minute until he finally comes up with a solution. "You want some samples of hard-on pills?"
"Yeah, that might work."
So by the time it was all said and done I ended up with an injection in my hip, a fist full of flexoril, a prescription of anti-inflammatories for my git kit, a referral for PT and a back brace which I'll never use and a couple samples of happy pills. Not a bad haul, you know?
Let me tell you what, though. By the time I got home my back felt better but my left hip was fucking throbbing. It's almost like all that pain just moved over to one area.
So I mowed the yards - probably not the brightest idea now that I'm looking back on it. I'm laid up in my Camouflaged Bass Pro Easy Chair and can't hardly move.
Getting old is a bitch.

III to III

When I shut this blog down a couple weeks back I did it for several reasons, one of which is my Pop's declining health as I explained to the many, many folks that emailed or called me with concern and support.
It's taking a toll on me mentally, emotionally and slowly but surely, time-wise.

Kerodin did a post on my leaving and in it he mentioned Pop's health problems without going into detail, which you can find HERE.

A few days ago I was contacted by a Community Nurse/Nurse Practitioner and who kindly volunteered her time and services to come from the Bay Area to check him out. Julie and I exchanged several emails and laid out my concerns and to my surprise, she offered to come down this Saturday for an evaluation - no hemhawing around for this Lady. It was so quick that I didn't have time to set it up with Mom, but all that is in the works for a future time.
I know she was volunteering but I had to ask what her charges would be - in my world nobody does anything for free, it's eventually gonna cost you one way or another - and her reply was "This is a freebie. III to a IIIer. We take care of our own."
Man....... I had to read that a couple of times. What an wonderful concept. III to III.
As I'm writing this post there is so much running through my mind that I cannot even think about putting it all down. If you could ever get an inside peek at my mind, you'd understand the problem here.
This offer from Julie and her concept is so amazing and simple that I can't help but post it in the hopes that it will get passed on and others can pick it up. Patriots helping out Patriots in their moment of need for no other reason than that we are Patriots.
Folks, we are a sharing community - this has been proven by the Patriots that came together and met at the PatCons around the country and the fact that I can no longer mention that I need or want anything on my blog without somebody offering to send me what I want.
But there's a big difference between offering a scope mount or any other material thing and offering your professional services as well as travel time - in her case she's looking at about 3 hours back and forth, probably an hour talking with Mom and Pops, then a couple more hours with me and Lisa because there's no way in hell she's getting out of here without a nice supper and a visit. And I guarentee you that if there's anything I can ever do for her and her family, all she has to do is hint.

As a side note, her second email to me was a link to prove her bona fides to me - she was featured in Time magazine for her 2A stance.
You can see her featured HERE.
What's really cool is I remember reading the article and seeing the pictures while sitting at the dentist's office a couple of months ago.

*****

So yes, this Patriot's actions have inspired me to begin posting again. It won't be as heavy as it was in the past, my reasons for quitting haven't gone away, but I'll try to keep it interesting.
Oh yeah - CharlieGoddamit's fine.

Phone woes (and my solution)

My phone's have to be some hardy motherfuckers due to the abuse I give them, either falling out of my shirt pocket when I bend over or me flinging them across the house or yard or store when I get pissed at whoever I was talking to.
I've had my current phone for over 2 years now, setting some kind of record, but the age is showing on it - cracked screen, some buttons that have to be pushed harder than others, a battery cover and battery that pops out on their own, speaker that works when it wants to and finally, turning off and on at will.
So the other day Lisa gets a deal in the mail from AT&T saying that Kenneth is eligible for a new phone upon renewal of my contract with AT&T and she basically tells me that she's getting a little tired of me bitching about my phone and just go down and get another one, after all it's free, right?

Let me interrupt real quick and mention how much I hate dealing with all the big phone companies - anything that can be done over the phone by one salesman that speaks passable english in 5 minutes is now made easier by having to go through a half dozen motherfuckers in the wrong departments in the wrong countries and now it only takes a half a day.
The phone store is no easier.

Okay, so I walk in there with an attitude - a resigned attitude, that is. This is something that has to be done, there's no getting around it, let's just get this shit over with.
The very first thing that I notice is that all their 'free' phones are cheap pieces of shit that wouldn't last a week with me. For one thing, I need a keyboard instead of one of those taptap things to text because my fingers are kinda sorta stiff and clumsy anymore. I also need something big enough that I don't lose it when I pull down my pants to take a dump, yet small enough that it'll fit in my pocket and be carried comfortably while I'm working. Plus the motherfuckers can't be very aerodynamic or I'd never be able to find it after I'm done talking to my mother.
I start looking around and the phones that fit most of my needs all run about 50 bucks with a contract which is just about what I figured I was going to have to spend on my 'free' phone.
Finally a salesman comes up and starts getting all of my information. Then he tells me after we go though all the bullshit that I have a balance on my bill of $137 that isn't due until the 27th, but it needs to be paid in full in order to renew my contract.
Wait a minute. I need to pay my balance that isn't due yet in order for me to continue to give you my business (money) for another 2 years? And then throw down another 50 bucks for a 'free' phone? Plus God only knows how many wasted hours and headaches dealing with piss poor customer service? All for a phone that I use less than 100 minutes a month? Almost $200 for a phone that I will use for maybe 1 call a day and a couple of texts? Are you fucking kidding me?
So I thanked the young man for his time (yes, I was polite and courteous - it wasn't his fault) and walked out. Tomorrow morning I will spend my half day on the phone with At&T to cancel my service, then I will go down and buy another throwaway phone from Radio Shack and 20 bucks worth of minutes that will last me all fucking month. Total cost - 25 US Dollars.

How can you not love a woman like that?

I just love my Mother-in-law to pieces.
She's out here again looking for a house to buy and staying with us. Tonight Lisa and her came back from looking at yet another motherfucking house with no luck and Lisa came up with this brilliant plan that they would buy something cheaper and rent it to us until they came out here or something, I don't know, I was laughing too hard. "That ain't gonna work, man. If Sue gets pissed at me, I'll get evicted straightaway. I ain't real stupid, ya know."
Sue turns around and smiles. "I wouldn't evict ya, son. I'd just kill ya."

Well, hell......

Goddammit, here I am on vacation with nothing planned and not much being done, right? Kicking back, doing whatever the fuck I want and generally just enjoying life.

Okay, a little background on this rant. Lisa's parents stayed with us for about a month on their annual vacation, leaving about a month ago. Great houseguests and we got along fine but still, a month..... but their house was on the market and they would be back here shortly anyways. So they leave on a Wednesday and on Friday Lisa's cousin and her family showed up for a week. It wasn't as bad as it sounds because they were whole new personalities and it turns out that we all share the same political leanings. A very good visit and hope they come again.
So they left and me and Lisa looked at each other and swore no more houseguests for a few months and then we locked the doors, drew the curtains and hid out for a week.
You are officially caught up.

So anyways, Lisa's folk's house sold back in Tennessee and so for the past week or so my old lady's been busy house shopping for her mom. Today I was bored and went with her, serving as driver, photographer and evidently coffee bitch. We fired off the pictures to her folks, told them what we thought of the houses and commenced to kicking back, Lisa in the tub and me in my Camouflaged Bass Pro Easy Chair. Pretty soon I heard something from the bathroom like somebody was drowning so I finished the article I was reading real quick and when back to see what was up. Coming down the hallway I could hear she was on the phone and just as I rounded the corner I heard "......Tomorrow at 12:10. Delta. What's your flight number, Mom?"
Aw Hell no.....
"You need to go to Sacramento tomorrow to pick up my mother" is what I'm hearing as I finally force myself into the bathrooom.
"Aw Hell no..... fuck that....." and then I got The Look.

So here I am, on vacation with no motherfucking plans (and Lisa knows that), and my mother-in-law is going to be here for a couple of weeks. I've got 6 days with no place to escape to and I gotta be on my best behavior while she's here. No more dick prints on the patio sliding glass door or the hallway mirrors, can't wander in naked for my morning coffee rubbing my nuts, can't swear, can't do nothing, man.
Not only that, but she taught Lisa The Look. Every one of you married motherfuckers out there know exactly what I'm talking about. Now I'm gonna have the two of them  hammering me with The Look everytime I turn around.
I am so fucked.......