Late Night Me Droogs n Droogettes…
It’s Never Easy ’round here at La Casa Del Grand Campesino… What a fuckin’ day… I’m wiped.
Humor to Start:
So, minor household bullshit day work… Replace the wall socket for Wifey in the Master Bath. Got her a two-outlet plug with built in USB 2.0 slots… that way she can charge her shit w/out adapters. Neat toy you would think.
I kilt the power to the Master Bedroom/Shitter and got my voltmeter to check the load… everything looked copa-shi-shi, so I got me screwdriver, and went to work.
Did I mention my house was the first ‘floorplan model’ of our development?
Meaning it was thrown together by drunk Mex-he-can’ts with substandard… well… full all-on every-damned-thing. Nothing in this joint repair wise has been easy. So I de-juice the room, get in and start ripping shit apart to put the new outlet in…
Fuck My Life…
Back in Baghdad, no bullshit, I once took a 440 Volt hit… so strong when it grounded out through my right foot it melted/burned a hole in the nylon of my combat boot. My finger got slightly cooked, mainly b/c we were in a monsoon, and the docs in the CASH told me b/c I was soaking wet, standing in water when I got hit, the overall shock -didn’t- kill me… whereas if’n everything was normal (i.e. dry) my head woulda been cooked and my heart blown out apparently… the electricity (so they told me) got diffused by being soaked to that extent… apparently that’s what I remember… I wasn’t very coherent at the time…
So, yeah >ZZZAAAAAAPPP!!!<
Minor Zap, but man, I have a few things that I really fucking hate, and one of ’em, that’s getting shocked. ESPECIALLY since I had de-juiced the room from the main breaker box… However, Bob the Beaner-Builder (“No nosotros no podemos!”) did –something- where this ONE fuckin’ 110 outlet was still live and shocked my ass off. Needless to say, I went full retard, and went out to the meter and disconnected the main to the fuckin’ crib so’s to not have any other unexpected fuckery this day.
So, install, wash rinse repeat, and now I gotta reboot 4 computers, reset ALL the fuckin’ clocks, and pray to fuck-all Jesus Please that nothin’ else goes sideways on what should have been a minor job!
Well it went well… and then I get a Call.
Old Friend, female-type-one-each. Got or, rather had a lot of female friends. What can I say? Chicks dig me. This Chick n me go back to 2006. Ex-Bitcho hated her. Wifey hates her. Both saw/see her as competition… typical broad shit… either way, ain’t nuthin’ gonna happen. Esp. since she’s a train wreck. Like mad former junkie. I’ll refer to her as “J”….
Knew her before, during, and now after… however, she’s kinda gone a bit too far, as her last ‘episode’ caught her doing hard time in county for like 6-8 months… not exactly a role model, but she’s been there for me in the past, so’s I try to stay relatively cool with her.
Problem is she is/was living at her Ma’s house as the hated daughter. Hated b/c J’s dad realized just how fuckin’ psycho Ma was, and popped smoke. Blamed J for it, rather than admit she;’s fuckin’ headcase. The “Golden Child Daughter”, her half-sister is mentally deficient as fuck. Like as in a ward of the state on full disability as a fuckin’ Gump. Fat and ugly too. Mom, of course, loved Fat-n-Stupid, as HER Dad went off and had the good graces to die while drunk driving… and when Ma croaked from cancer, FnS automatically assumed she’s in charge and took control of well, like everything, even tho she hasn’t got two cognizant brain cells to rub together.
I tried to warn J about the antics her half sis was gonna do, but she’s a big believer in family… I told her, “She hates you worse than yer ma did… yer the hawt girl, yer the smart girl… she’s gonna fuck you over like a bitch being broken.” Add on that, and here goes the sick part, their Uncle, right after Ma cashed in, moved in and started fucking FnS!!!!!
Only in Central Florida. Incest is best I suppose if’n yer a full on retard Gump with an IQ of 50 and the looks of a greasy, diseased and rancid plague-carrying warthog with leprosy…
But I digress… Months ago when Ma cashed her erratic and basically psychotic chips, there was no will. Here in Florida, that shit means it’s gotta be probated. And I told J get that shit done now lest FnS decides to fuck her over…
Ever notice you can tell a bitch something, and it rattles around inside the skull looking to take root, and when it can’t find anything, it shoots clean out the other side of the skull? All the way up until reality comes and bites them in the chooch.
Which was what happened today. Seems FnS and Incest-Uncle went down and filed some bullshit w/the courts about J “taking advantage of a vulnerable adult”… the lawfare shit they use to keep caretakers here in Flor-ree-DUH! from taking advantage of Rich Old Fuckers on deaths door. And w/the Injunction, J and her 7 year old daughter were forcibly removed from the home. Even tho, by Florida Law, as there was no will, and they are both the descendants of the deceased, they both have a 50-50 take on the whole shebang.
I smell Incest-Uncle into this up to his creepy-assed eyeballs. He’s mid sixties, and both him and FnS are terrified of me, but I’m not gonna white knight this shit…. I mean I -told- J flat the fuck out to strike hard, strike first, and to strike to kill… Told her to go to probate, get the estate sorted on a 50-50 basis, and tell her half Warthog FnS to STFD and STFU. Otherwise, force a court ordered sale of the house and estate, and take her half and get the fuck outta Dodge.
Of course, she’s a broad, ig’nint slut reformed junkie type-one-each-of-many. Meaning she didn’t listen, and the world caved in today.
Now its in Retard-land… she’s calling me cryin’ her shit out, her kid who I’m fond of, and have been a very cool Uncle figure and possibly the ONLY positive male role model in her life… her fuckin asshole father, J’s Husband O.D.’d in front of the kid at age 5… “Sorry kid, Daddy’s fucking Dead b/c he loved drugs more than you.” And I got nothing. I literally don’t have room at the Inn… every inch of space is full, as well as every bed.
Like I stated… Never Easy in Big Countryland… Ye Olde Intrepid Reporter of Fame and Fortune is sitting this one waaaaaaay the fuck out, mainly because the on solution I can see is to eliminate the problem with extreme prejudice.
BUT: as I ain’t fucking her, and she’s not listened to me on critical shit in the past, I got nuthin’ for her.
Wifey is now walking around with that self-satisfied smirk you see on the mean girls in High School when they either stole some hotter girl’s BF or fucked over another girl in the clique… Love Wifey, but damn, bitches be bitches I suppose.
Like I said, I feel for the Midget (my nickname for her kid) but I got 99 problems and this bitch (J) ain’t one LOL.
Let me know if you think I should assist in the comments… me? I’m willing to advise, but I ain’t taking no direct action. I’m just not interested anymore in this sort of drama.
For the close:
Til Later, I’m the Shocked and Bummed Intrepid Reporter