Good Evening (and good night) to all Me Droogs and Droogettes!
Sorry for the late and uber-lite posting.
Had to drive the Ole Lady to a wedding gig today.
“Don’t worry, it’s only one girl… I’ll only be an hour”
(said every woman throughout history)
Left the Big Country Home for Underemployed and Wayward Veterans at 10:45.
Arrived at the location at 12:05.
Damn.. the V.A. isn’t this bad I start thinking
So I start texting after a while. Normally I don’t b/c I don’t want her to seem unprofessional by being the “WTF?” boyfriend, but this is getting rekockulas.
She hits me back (surprisingly!) and tells me the bride is a soup-fuckin-sammich. No organization, no plan and all hell is breaking loose. Fuck it… I got my kindle and a full charge, so I recrack my book, Marco Kloos ” Terms of Enlistment” The whole series is kick-ass MilSci-Fi… my fave. Its ongoing and I’m re-reading it again for like the 20th time… so I’m reading and she finally got done at 16:35.
Follow up that she wants to hit the TJ Maxx in the neighborhood.
Great. She gets paid, now she wants shopping.
Motherfucker can’t win.
Especially since over the past 4 days she’s been visiting her parents. So with her gone, I finally can clean the house to MilSpec. I’m anal as fuck about cleaning. Half-assed don’t fuckin cut it, and unfortunately, shes got great tits, but can’t cook or clean all that good… Cleaning shes OK… I’d rate her a 7.5/8 on a 10 scale… the cooking? Whelp I’ve already gone over that. (Toast w/ Bones anyone?)
Needless to say tho, an 8 ain’t a fucking ten to the details I’m talking. Like taking the knob-pulls off of all the cabinets and repainting them ’cause they’re a bit faded and chipped, and then taking a “Magic Eraser” to the stains where the pulls have skoonge built up and never get wiped down. That level of cleaning… call it “Level 30 Depot Level” cleaning.
So during this I manage to stub a fucking toe. I have a bad spacial awareness of my hooves… dunno why. So yet AGAIN I smoosh my toe, and yep. Fucking broken. And she wants to go hit TJ Maxx.
I called “EndEx” on that shit. They hadda chair at the front door, really a group of them. Parked my ass and sat the fuck down for an additional 6 chapters.
Didn’t get home til about an hour ago, and then it was “feed the dog/walk the dog and fuck picking up the dogshit ’cause I’m in my motherfucking yard and that shit can feed the motherfucking grass after this particular goat-fucking-rope.”
BUT I hadda ‘feed the Droogs’ too… so it’s a short albeit ranting sort… I did have one bit of fun tonight… On Facebook, I got a friend from WAAAAY back in the day who’s an honest-to-God Preacher. I’ll tell -that- particular story later, but we’ve been co-workers and friends a long time. He posts really bad puns on FB regularlly… thinks he’s quite the wit… the one he put up tonight tho? OMFG… couldn’t let him off so I hit him with a quickly generated Meme:
He of course loved it…
Fuck… my toe hurts. Time for Jim Beam Therapy methinks.
More later, I remain the Intrepid Reporter