Tag: in laws

Thanksgiving Shits And Giggles Featuring Woody Scream

Well We are Finally getting Our shit together since We got clusterfucked in-between a fucking a Surreal Road Trip and the Thankless Toils of the Thanksgiving Holidays. I’m currently working on a Post pertaining to the Aforementioned Road Trip, but it’s Slow Going since it’s such an Infuriating Story I have to take frequent breaks so I don’t Actually Punch My Computer Screen. That aside I felt the need to Address the Utter Nonsensical Onslaught of the so called Holiday Season in the Meantime. To Keep some sort of Order and Assemble some sort of fucking Sanity I will be Using the FYB Tried and True Bullet Point Format.

  • Pre Show Prep: My Wife and I have been Drafted over the Recent Years into the Unwelcoming Ranks of Holiday Responsibilities and Assorted Bullshit. So this Includes the Relentless Cleaning Up the House in Preparation of the Forthcoming Company. This obviously makes fucking Sense, and We have No Qualm with Doing. The Problem is My Micro Managing Obsessive and Franticly Stressed Mother who can make You Feel like You’re Losing Your goddamn Mind since Her Anxiety is fucking Infectious. She whips Herself up into a fucking Frenzy Running around like a fucking Lunatic starting Numerous Projects Simultaneously while Simultaneously Finishing None of Them. It’s what We unaffectionately refer to as My Mother’s Manic Host Mode where She acts like Her Life and Reputation is Teetering on the Brink if Her House isn’t Absolutely Spotless and has been Cleaned to the Highest Hospital Standards.

The Funny thing is It’s just Family Who are the Mellowest and Undemanding House Guests You can Have for fuck’s sake. My Mother seems to be Operating under some delightfully Demented Assumption that if The Family Arrives to find even a Single Speck of Dirt on the Bottom Stair (leading up to the Front Porch) It’s All Over in an Instant. As if My Fellow Family Members would Cast a Disgusted eye Upon the Psec of Dirt, Turn Around on Their Heel, March back to Their Cars, Lod up, and Yell before Speeding Off into the fucking Distance “WHAT A FILTHY HELLHOLE! SERIOUSLY FUCK YOU GUYS AND YOUR PIG STY! WE WILL NEVER SET FOOT ON THIS SOIL AGAIN AND WE DISOWN EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU DISAPPOINTING AND FILTHY FUCKERS!!!” It’s Insanity Incarnate.

               

THE KIDS: The Two Boys are Still just Shy of becoming Teenagers and as So were Willing to Speak and Interact with Us on a Consistent Basis during the Trip. Meanwhile Their Sister being 16 Years Old is Undoubtedly a Full Blown fucking Teenager. She had Her Face in Her Phone the Entire fucking Time because Her Life currently is all About Socializing and Friends, Friends, and More fucking Friends! I do have to give Credit where Credit is Due for Her Part She refrained from being the Classic Anti-Social Hormonal Horror Show Three Ring Circus of Bullshit. The Trip was Free from Conflict, Argument, Hissy fucking Fits, Screaming/Yelling, Door Slamming or Anti Adult/Authority “I am My Own Person” Self Indulgent Self Righteous Sixteen Year Old Psychodrama. So That Was A Pleasant Surprise.

The Reservation Situation: My Mother being from an Older Generation is still totally Hung Up on the Restaurant Reservation Scenario. The Problem is that Unless it’s some Super Trendy Fine Dining Hipster Restaurant or Perhaps an Old School Steak House Throw Back Dinosaur then You Don’t actually need a Reservation. Unfortunately as Time Evolved and Moved on My Mother Did Not budge an Inch. So One Night We were going out to Eat and Automatically My Mother becomes Fixated as Fuck on the Fact the Place Didn’t Take Reservations, BUT where Kind Enough as to make Note that a Party of 10 was Headed Their Way (I assume this was complete horseshoe to placate the Madness that is My Mother. Also I don’t Blame Them a Bit since My Mother is well let’s say Intense and Leave it at That.

               

As We are Driving to Said Restaurant My Mother goes into Panic Mode when My Cousin Texted “Do we need a reservation?” and that’s all it Took for My Mother to Head for the Races. The Next thing We know My Mother has Engulfed Everyone in the fucking Car into Her Web of Sheer Madness as We all Scrambled to Solve the Situation (aka Attempt Get My Mental Mother to Calm the Hell Down). Finally the whole Reservation Hullaballoo died Down Five Minutes before We got to the Restaurant. Just for the Record the Drive was 42 Minutes Long and it took only Two Minutes before My Mother got Triggered by the Innocent Reservation Question. That Means the Reservation Dilemma essentially lasted the Entire Fucking Ride.

Once We Enter the Resturant even though it’s 8:30 on a Saturday Night was like a Scene from a Shitty B Comedy Movie was Empty as Empty could be. The Only other fucking People there besides Us are the fucking Staff. That’s it just Us and the Boarded looking Staff After all the Old School Reservation busllshit Versus the New School No Reservation Needed the place Didn’t have a Single other Customer. It was so Dead in there I honestly felt fucking Bad for the Poor Waitress who just so Happened to Be the Nicest, Professional, Personable, and Kickass All Around Waitress I have Even Encountered. The way I figured it She was Financially fucked since Working at this Particular Restaurant was making Her a Damn Thing, or She was One of the Working Poor who had Several Restaurant/Food Service Jobs just to be able to Scrape By. All I hope is She finds a Better and More Lucrative Job then the Graveyard of a Restaurant where She is currently Employed.

                  

Litter Patrol: We live so Far Out in the fucking Middle of Nowhere USA that We Don’t have Trash Pick Up so No Garbage Men/Women or Trash Day. Instead We have to Haul Our own Stinky Shitty Trash down to the Town Dump (Which is Actually just a Parking Lt with a Bunch of Dumpsters line up Designated for Different Shit (Example: Plastic, Yard Waste, Metal Etc.). One of the Unfortunate Side Effects of this and People be Lazy as Fuck is there is a Real Litter Problem. Along some Stretches of Road there’s all kinds of Shit like Fast Food Containers from Places that are fucking 30-45 Minutes Away, Old Tires, Beer Cans/Booze Bottles (There so Many I swear Every motherfuckier in Town is Drunk Driving), Broken TV’s, Ratty Ass Furniture like Old Worn Out Love Seats and Shit, and a Shit Ton of Rotting Plastic Bottles.

This lead to My Mother having the Idea to Subtly Suggest that Why the Family is here that We clean up Along Some the Roads that Run Through the Vast Property. This was a Nice and Generally Well Received by All until My Mother started to get fucking pushy as Shit Pushing the Issue and Badgering Everyone. I told Her it was fucking Insane that She went fro Subtle Suggestion to Full on Demanding Compliance Immediately. First Off Not everyone Agreed to Help which was Fine and Expected, but then My Mother got bent because My Cousin wouldn’t Allow the Boys to go Out and Collect Trash on the Side of the Road because it would be Dangerous. She was and is Absolutely right on that one it is fucking Damn Well Dangerous.

                   

The Speed Limit is 55 and as You can imagine People average 65 or Higher and the fact there is Only 3-4 Police Officers allows People to Drive even More like Total Assholes. Then there are Several Blind Curves which are just begging to be the Sight of a Fatal Car Accident so again Imagine People Speeding around Blind Curves would You want Your Kid Standing There Fuck No You Wouldn’t. Lastly the Road is a Main Route for Eighteen Wheeler Logging Trucks which as We all Know take Forever and a fucking Day to Slow to a Gradual Stop.

At Last My Wife, My Cousin’s Husband (looking to escape the Chaotic Confines of the House), My Mother, and I Headed Out to Help Tidy up the fucking Roadside. Now after spending 3-4 Hours Ranting, Raving, and Being a Total Dick about the Whole Thing My Mother Collected One Bag of Trash in 15 minutes and Then Declared She was Tired and Done. The Three of Us remained and Managed to Pack 22 Trash Bags to the fucking Gills with Roadside Garbage. Not too Shabby for damn Near Forced Labor.

The Getting Ready Dilemma: This is the Asinine bullshit that I Hate the Most out of all the Family fucking Nonsense is the Getting Ready Principle. This happens Every fucking time before Every fucking thing We plan to Do when the Family is in Town. As the Deadline Approaches Family Members mingle around Idly just Killing Time fucking with Phones, watching TV, Reading a Book (Yes some of Us still Read fucking Books so Fuck You if thats weird to You), or smoother Mindless Time Wasting Activity. The Point is this getting Ready to Leave Limbo is We aren’t even Interacting with one Another while We wait. It’s like We’re all Hanging around Some Sort of fucking Waiting room for an Appointment that’s Never Coming.

One by One Each Family Member States that They have to Get Ready and then set off to Allegedly do so. I say Allegedly because though Everyone leaves under the Presence of getting Ready to Go NO ONE actually appears to actually be getting ready. This process wastes a good 45 to 60 Minutes as Nothing gets Accomplished while People Drift Room from Room like Human fucking Jellyfish. I detest Downtime I really fucking Hate it because I get Bored Easily, and I fucking Hate Boredom with a Passion so This Aimless Lackadaisical Idiocy infuriates Me to No end. Then just like a fucking Football Game after Squandering a Good Amount of Time in the Final Minutes Everyone jumps into fucking Action. Then all of a Sudden Everyone is Ready and Walking out the fucking Door so what this all Means is They can get Ready in a Timely Manner, but They Delay and Dawdle away a Hour for No fucking Reason Whatsoever. I simply Cannot get My Head Around Such Drivel.

             

Game Night Without The Kids: On One Particular Night the Kids went to Visit some of Their Other Relatives leaving the Adults Alone for the Evening. After the Drinks Started Flowing My Wife Suggested Breaking Out the Game Cards Against Humanity since We were Kid Free, and It’s I think We can All Agree Not a Game for Anyone Under 18 Years of Age (Some May Argue No One Under 21 Years Of Age). For those Who are Not Familiar Cards Against Humanity is an Adult Party Game in Which Players complete Fill-In-The-Blanks Statements using Words or Phrases Typically Deemed Obscene or Offensive in Nature.

Undeniably the Some of the Games Appeal comes from the Fact Younger Generations get a kick out of Hearing Older Generations Curse or Use Sexually Charged Language. The Assumption made by The Younger Generations is that the Older Generation will be Utterly Clueless when it comes to the X-Rated Content. The Ironic thing is the Old Generations DO know about all the Crazy Sex shit it’s They just Don’t know what it’s Being Called Nowadays (Example: Russia used to be The Soviet Union and the USSR in its Past though its Always been the Same Geographical Location).

My Cousin’s Husband remember Playing it one Time Long Ago and was Definitely in Favor of Playing that was Until We actually Started Playing. We were about 8 minutes into the Game when He started to Regret His Initial Endorsement for Playing Cards Against Humanity in the First Place. He was Consumed by Embarrassment and Tried to Avoid dwelling on certain Topics like Describing what the Sex Toy Known as the Fleshlight was to His In laws. My Wife and I were having None of It and Informed Him once the Game started there Wasn’t any Backing Down, Sugar Coating, or Skipping Over a Single Aspect of the Game. Watching My Cousins Husband Squirm Uncomfortably Blushing with Embarrassment was the Highlight of the Game as Far as I’m Concerned.

And So this Brings Us to the End of this Pos on Thanksgiving Tensions. I wanted to End this Post a Little Different from Previous Posts So I Included the Feature Video WOODY SCREAM below to Summarize My Feelings Pertaining to the Hell of the Holidays. Now On to Christmas!

Enjoy.

Thanks For Watching,

 By/Presented By Les Sober 

FYB Update: A Glimpse Behind The Cloak Part 2: Next Stop The Great Southern Swamp

So Once the Car Crash Chaos finally Calmed Down We were able to Hit the Road out of the Woods headed straight towards the Great Southern Swamp. Though We ended up leaving 3 fucking Horus behind Schedule (I hate being Late its a Pet fucking Peave of Mine) it was Mostly My fault I must Admit. I would go to do Something only to get Distracted along the Way thus Wasting a great deal of Time chasing My own damn Tail as it were.

In All Actuality I can’t complain I mean obviously I could be an Asshole of the Highest Order and Nit Pick something to Bitch about, But why the Hell do that?! Once We left it was smooth fucking Sailing all the Way No Shitty Weather, Traffic Jams, Road Construction, Road Delays, Accidents, Rush Hour Issues, and No Stupid Motherfuckers sitting at a Dead Stop in the Middle the Road (on a Blind Curve ) while Stealing Shit to Deal with it was Damn near Perfect.

Since We weren’t going to get to Where We needed to be until much Later then expected We decided not to get Pissed about it, and instead take Advantage of it by taking Our Sweet Ass Time. Fuck the Runaround, Rushing About, and the Rat Race fuck Them all. It was nice I have to admit not to be so Constricted by the Concept of Time it was quite fucking Peaceful.

        

We got a Good Nights Sleep and a Chance to Sleep in which is always Nice. After milling around Drinking Coffee to No End My Wife and I met up with Her Best Friend Dozie (and a Good Friend and Ex-Coworker of Mine). The first Order of Business was Lunch as Dozie was just getting off Work by the Time We were ready to Venture Out into the Surrounding Swamp. Since We live Deep in the Woods of The Southern Country We don’t have Certain things You can find Pretty much anywhere fucking Else, and in this Case it was a Deli. No Deli’s in the Boondocks I am afraid to Say.

After Lunch We rather Aimlessly Rode around Town checking out How Our Old Stomping Ground had Changed or Evolved since We got the Hell out of the Breath Southern Swamp. We also made Several purchases of Other Hard to Locate Living in No Man’s Land Items along the Way as Well figuring Why waste a Perfectly Good Opportunity?!  As the Day Faded Away into the Oncoming Dark Night My Wife, Dozie, and I prepared Ourselves for a Evening out at The Eagles Our Long Time Favorite Local Dive Bar.

What Dozie was unaware of was that Over Time My Wife and I found a Following of Friendly People who Adore the shit Out of Us especially since We moved several Years Ago. My Wife dropped Me off at the Eagles and went to run to the Bank or some last minute mundane Task, and I went in ahead of Her and Dozie.

.       

The First Person I ran into is a Gentleman Named Hatchet who instantly as He always does (and has for fucking Years) Yelled at the top of his fucking Lungs “HEY IT’S JESUS!”, and Then precedes to Shake My Hand and inadvertently fucking Break it with Drunken Excitement. Now Why Does He Refer to Me as Jesus? Why is My Nickname in General at the Eagles Jesus? Well I’ll leave it Up to You to figure that one Out.

During the Course of the Night I got to visit with My Favorite Eagles Bar Tender of all Fucking Time Audry who ironically was Tending Bar that Night. The New Bar Tender was alright She didn’t neglect anyone or Drag Her Ass in any way, but there was still that awkward Unfamiliarity hanging in the Air like a Lingering Fart. I got to See the Cast of Usual Suspects and Especially My Best Friend Mr. Percy most of All. It was a rather Lively Night at the Eagles which can be quite Low Key when it wants to be. There was Endless Rounds of Jello Shots, Chaotic Karaoke, and Some Alcohol Fueled and Related Auction for All Kinds of Random shit. There was like Your Basic Gift Basket, but Mostly it was Bottles of Booze or Heavily Booze Laced Desserts/Cakes, and the Fireball was Flowing Freely.

       

The Following Morning I woke up Nice and Early just so I could have the Pleasure of Puking. You know You’ve Partied Your Ass Off to Capacity when You Vomit During OR at The End of the Night. If You wake up and the First fucking thing You do is Vomit You know Last Night You abused the Hell Out of Your Liver, and More than likely You Damn Near did Your Liver in Once and For All. It’s one of Those Times where You wake Up, and say to Yourself Well I may Not be Quitting Drinking for Good, But I am for Quite a While.It’s the type of Hangover that Even when it’s Over it Still Haunts Your Memory.

A Little Later on that Pleasantly Sunny Morning My Wife and I had Brunch with Her Aunt and Uncle along with My Wife’s Younger Cousin and His Wife. Considering the Previous Nights Over Indulgence on My part this Brunch was Particularly Brutal just to Get Through. My Head was Fuzzy, My  Eyes were Blurry, and I My Mind was Muddled as a Motherfucker Let Me Tell You. Weirdly at the Same Time it was really Pleasant on some Sick Level I suppose because all said and Done I ultimately enjoyed Myself.

       

The Restaurant We ate at was a Bit Too Fancy For Me as I’m so fucking LOW Maintenance its an Ongoing Joke.I went with the Family Flow and Ordered a 3 Course Lunch with Various Options in the Appetizer/Main Course/ Dessert Something or Other. The Appetizer I opted for Honestly was the Only fucking Option that sounded like anything I would actually Eat which was Black Bean and Bacon Soup. Did I mention How Hungover I was because that Soup was HEAVY AS FUCK! I mean while it Tasted Splendid as soon as it Landed in Your Stomach it Apparently turns into Instant Cement or at Least thats what fucking Felt Like. The Main Course was Fish so it was Delightful and Light on the Stomach which was still Reeling from the Dense Soup Scenario. The Dessert Deal turned out to be a Selection of Desserts in fucking Shot Glasses which I’m rather Ambivalent about, but thats just Me.

After the Meal was Over Everyone went Their different Ways, and My Wife and I circled around Back to Base Camp. My Wife spent Her time productively Completing Her Continuing Education Courses/Credits for this Year while I on the Other Hand took a Well Needed Nap to Fully Regain My Faculties. It was by by Definition a Power Nap as I awoke Feeling like My Normal fucking Self Again, I was Resurrected in the Land of the Living.

       

We reconvened that evening around 6 pm when I noticed that a Couple We Knew and were Good Friends with had Texted Us to see if We’d like to stop by Their House for Dinner, and to See the Puppy of Ours They Adopted a Year Back. I would like to take a second to acknowledge that Derrick and Terri are Great Owners, But Bernie (The Dog) turned out to be a Great Dog. Well Behaved, No Bad Habits, Listens to His Owners Etc.

I immediately conferred with my Wife and Texted Derrick and Terri back with an Enthusiastic Hell’s Yes. Unfortunately it turned Out Derrick had been doing Roofing Work that Day, and as Roofing goes He fucked up His Back pretty Bad. So Poor fucking Derrick had to Bail on Dinner to tend to His Beat Up Back, But We still stopped by and Saw Terri ad Bernie, Hung out for a while, Shot the Shit, had a Few Beers, and Laughed a lot. After Our visit We headed over to the Eagles once again to meet up with Mr. Percy and Thank God it was a much Slower Night at The Eagles. I was Happy because the other Night had been Fun as fuck sometimes Relaxing over a Few Drinks beats Partying until Dawn.

       

We Left the Following Morning after having Breakfast with My Wife’s Older Cousin who was in Town. We Managed to Stay on Schedule this time around and made Great Time.  I honestly was a Little Impressed I must say. Again We were lucky as Hell not to have had to Deal with any Traffic/Road Issues like Holiday Traffic or Weekend Traffic for Example. Needless to say it was Splendid Not getting Stuck in some Aggravating bullshit along the Way. I enjoy the Ride because it’s Familiar, BUT Not to the Point of  Monotony. This is a Very fucking Difficult Balance to Achieve None the Less Maintain the Test of Time. I find Boredom Deplorable and Truly Hellish in Many Ways so this Delicate Balance is Especially Important in My Mind.

Since We returned Home to the Woods much Earlier than Ever be for decided if We could Pick Up Our Big Dogs Tonight instead of having Wait till After Work the Following Day. It Save Us both Time and Money which I am Always in Favor of.  It would just so Happen that even though it was well After Hours the Guy We Board with was willing to Stay Late and gave Us His Cell Number. We called and of course He said come on by which means see You in 45 minutes because again We live in the Middle of No Where Special. We managed to pick up the Big Dogs without to much Hyper Dog Drama except for When Big Dad Dog came flying cross the Front Desk into the Waiting Room.

     

Once We got Home Everyone Hit the Couch and fucking CRASHED being utterly Worn Out and Thoroughly Exhausted from Our Venture. Road Trips are fucking Fun, But at the same Time there’s Nothing Like Returning Home.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

The Cell Phone Show Down

One night after having a few beers I decided to call up my Brother in Law who I hadn’t spoken with in some time. Now I had several phone numbers for my Brother in Law since he was a rather active guy shall we say.

Anyway I called the primary number that I had been able to reach him on only to discover it had been Recycled, and now it had be assigned to some unknown random woman. I hung up as soon as I  heard the voicemail thinking that was rather strange. Had my Brother in Law ditched one number, but hadn’t given (to my knowledge) a new number to anyone?! My Brother in Law is also know for his extreme impulsiveness so I had to also wonder if there was a scheme afoot.

Well just a minute or two after I attempted to call my Brother in Law my phone’s text alert went off. I picked it up to check the new text it without looking to see who the fuck was actually texting me.

This is where the Shitnado of Absurdity started and would go on to span a couple of hours.

I checked my phone to find it was some fucking Guy texting who I had no fucking clue who the hell he was. I was pondering what the fuck was going on. Well it didn’t take long to find out.

This was in fact the Boyfriend of the nameless, faceless, unknown Woman who was now in possession of my Brother in Law’s old Cell Number. And just my fucking luck he’s one of those Overtly Paranoid Untrusting Jealous Controlling Assholes.

Now I’m going to take a minute to address this type of fucking Guy. I have no fucking clue whatsofuckingever why a Woman would date nor stay with this type of Guy.

This is the sneaky son of a bitch that checks his girl friends phone every chance he gets behind her back.

This is the kind of Shit that thinks every other guy at the Bar is eyeballing his girlfriend, and more often than not it leads to a drunken jealousy fueled fight. And more times than not its also where the asshole boyfriend gets his teeth kicked in.

This is the type of Scumbag that tries or succeededs in controlling his girlfriend’s make up, clothing, and friends through bullshit manipulation.

This is the kind of prick that thinks every one of his girlfriends coworkers is hitting on her daily, and spends his whole day keeping tabs on his girlfriend like a fucking Stalker.

Essentially these type of Guy’s are SO FUCKING INSECURE that it breeds this paranoia of losing said girlfriend causing the said boyfriend to rashly assume that anything with a penis wants to bang his girlfriend, AND/OR he’s afraid she actually doesn’t care for him that much (in this case the jealous Guy is EXTREMELY CLINGY I’m talking about that “You’re Suffocating Me” type shit) and will dump him in an instant.

Granted Clingy sucks to no fucking end BUT its the lesser of 2 evils. Having a Jealous, paranoid, and controlling boyfriend (trying to dictate every aspect of his girlfriend’s fucking life like she’s a fucking slave) SUCKS WORSE.

Now back to our story already in progress…….

So His initial Texts where: Wanting to know who I was, Why was I calling, and that this was his girlfriends phone.

In return I Texted: You texted me so who are you, I told him I was trying touch with my Brother in Law, and got his girlfriends voice fucking mail by accident.

After that he starts acting like the tool that he is. He sends me a screen shot of his girlfriends recent call list with my number highlighted. Now I never denied calling because I did, BUT I had no idea the number  had been Recycled to some fucking girl.

Being a Jealous Boyfriend the asshole said he didn’t buy it, and I better stay away from his girlfriend. I could just see this fuck on the other end of the line so to speak standing all tall, puffing out his chest for all its fucking worth, Glaring like a angry drunk hawk, and pacing frantically periodically looking out the windows as he passes for some threat thats not fucking there.

I basically didn’t give a rats ass from the beginning and couldn’t help thinking how many people have accidentally texted or called this girl only to have to deal with her dick of a boyfriend (bitchfriend is more like it.) At this point I really didn’t give a good goddamn about this overly jealous, insecure piece of human shit. I thusly ended the whole bullshit exchange with the alright my fucking bad whatever I deleted the number since its obviously no use to me. And that was that. Well for a few brief minutes anyway.

I decided that if the primary cell number that I called my Brother in Law on was Recycled then what about the secondary number I had. Me being Me and rather drunk came to the conclusion the best thing to do is call it, and find out if the number worked, was Recycled or possibly disconnected.

As it turned out that my Brother in Law’s alternate phone number had also been Recycled again I got some random girls voicemail. I hung up immediately and deleted the number figuring this situation was rather fucked up. LOW AND FUCKING BEHOLD this number too had been Recycled to the same previous asshole. Why the hell did his girlfriend apparently have come into possession of BOTH fucking numbers was baffling as hell.

Needless to say this set the little motherfucker off like a fucking rocket. This time around the little punk ass had the artificial confidence to call me up this time to chat about what the fuck was going on. As I stated I had no fucking idea, and couldn’t get over how utterly moronic this shit was. And now this paranoid and jealous little twat of a boyfriend thinks for sure that I’m scamming on his girlfriend.

The first idea that came to my mind on how to handle this horeshit was the old make him think your fucking insane, some real sick fuck that cuts off people’s heads and wears them as a fucking hat type of a Murderous Madman a real life Slasher Movie. Then I thought how cliche that shit was and opted for a new idea. The new idea turned out to be making this little turd think HE’S THE ONE WHO’S SANITY IS SLIPPING essentially flip flopping the original idea/concept.

This is how it all went down in operation “Its Not Me Who’s Crazy, Thats YOU”.  For his part this Jack Ass spewed the normal line of macho bullshit cliques (doing his damnedest to make me think he was 10 feet tall and fucking bullet proof) like Propaganda for Pricks. It was SUCH OVERKILL the Guy was trying WAAAAY TOO Hard to be the almighty Alfa. What an Asshole.

In reality I imagine this little bitch was about 5 feet nothing, weighed about 90 pounds soaking fucking wet, Whiny, All Bark and NO BITE like a Tiny Toy Chihuahua. You’ve heard this shit before and I for one from what I have seen of the World am inclined to agree. Real Tough Guy/ Bad Asses DON’T WASTE THEIR TIME YELLING ABOUT IT WHILE HURLING THREATS AND INSULTS. They know they can kick the shit out of pretty much anyone so there is no reason for them to try and impress people.

I didn’t really have a set plan per say I just ad-libbed and then went from there. It started by me repeatedly telling him that the phone he is calling is STRICTLY a Business Phone. After a while of that I added that ONLY AUTHORIZED People have access to this phone. Again taking a few minutes to repeat this as much as possible BECAUSE its all about REPETITION, REPETITION, REPETITION.

Now before anyone feels the need to point this out theres no need. What I’m talking about is this I DID SWITCH my original story. Originally I told this Putts I accidentally called which was the truth, BUT to aid in my new game of “Who’s Crazy Now” as it were I SWITCHED my stance to I DIDN’T call you. Why you ask?! Well its simply because I needed to switch to keep the game going is all.

At this point the Butthead Boyfriend is getting confused. He can’t figure out why I’m not acting like an asshole too and yelling a bunch of bullshit trying to out macho his punk ass. He also is beginning to lock on the whole Business Phone Story which only serves to increase his confusion. So now he’s running out of steam having screamed himself fucking silly.

This is where I ramp things up. I start speaking in a aggressively Authoritarian Voice like a Law Enforcement does for example. I am now speaking to him like he’s a irritating child that got caught red handed doing some shit they shouldn’t. Some would call it ‘Talking Down” or “Being Condescending” and I would agree with both summations.

I start to shove the I didn’t call you from this phone which so happens to be a highly restricted Business Phone of some unknown sort. I start hammering the little Snot with the line “NO ONE is Authorized to make PERSONAL CALLS on THIS PHONE”

He has no clue now what the fuck is happening, he’s been so thrown off his macho bullshit ranting that he’s begging to flounder. The tables were starting to turn.

I then launched into “I DON’T KNOW who called you from this phone, But if we find out who they are they will be SEVERELY REPRIMANDED for their egregious actions.”

I’m now employing more militant or governmental type of speaking. This poor bastard now was beginning to get nervous that HE was in some sort of Danger. I then just unleashed like a Monumental Shitacane. I informed him that We had no clue who the fuck was violating a strict no personal phone calls from our exclusive Business Only phone. We would find out who called his girlfriends phone hell or high water. That NO ONE was Authorized to use this phone without selectively been given clearance. I went on to say I didn’t appreciate him being difficult and he should reconsider his behavior. I told him then to just drop his despicable attitude because it wouldn’t help him in the long run. This conversation was in fact being recorded (without a reason why given). He’s wasting my time with this trivial nonsense was not a wise decision.

The sad little fucker now is in a state of shock, confusion, and paranoia with good reason. Without acting like a typical macho male Jersey Shore Shithead he had no idea how to deal with the situation, and now had lost any and all control of the phone call. He was left wondering if I was somehow a Cop or Law Enforcement Agent, A Member of Biker Club, Political Group, Religious Group, A Governmental Agency, The Masons or possibly a Militia of some kind. There was no actual context so he became pledged by self doubt, and then had a mental melt down.

Seeing that the game had run its course and getting bored with the whole ordeal decided to end this shit circus once and for all. I told the little Pisser that enough was enough. This conversation was now over. Whoever called his girlfriend had violated Authorization of a Business Phone, and would not call back ever. They would be facing Strict Punishment. He then mumbled some garbage I assume was a last pitiful attempt at being a Big Man I mean his brain was fucking soup at this point the poor son of a bitch.

I then lastly took the time to inform him that if he called back he would be in direct violation of our mutual Cease and Desist agreement (which I made up right then and there there was no agreement of any fucking kind), and We would be keeping tabs on him in the future (thus playing into the paranoia of being watched and possibly  being in or getting into trouble in the future.)

To This day I have never spoke with that little Dimwitted Douche again. I do ponder from time to time when I have a free moment to think (like when I’m eating or taking a leak) what the fuck did he tell his girlfriend happened that night or did he just not mention it at all because he still had no idea wtf was going on. Either which way heres looking at you ASSHOLE.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober