Tag: Observational Humor

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 

Crazy People, Campgrounds, and A Crappy Concert

Now I had mentioned in a Recent Post that My Wife and I are in the Habit of Frequenting Our Local Bar called Timeout Tavern. Over Time as One might Imagine We started to meet some of the Local Characters from Our Town as well as the Neighboring Town. One of those Characters is a Man of Few Words who goes by Dee Dee who’ve We seen at the Bar Numerous times before. Well on this particular Thursday (Normally We head to Timeout on Fridays, but this Thursday was My Wife’s Birthday) We just so Happened to Sit at an Open Spot at the Bar that was next to Dee Dee who had been there for some time already.

Dee Dee as far as Dee Dee is concerned was in His Version of a Talkative Mood. This meant We would sit Next to One Another drinking in Silence until periodically Dee Dee would Lean over slightly in Our direction, and then proceed to have talk about whatever topic was on His Mind. These Mini conversations lasted just a few Sentences before Dee Dee would fall Silent once again. At one Point later in the Evening Dee Dee had Invited Us to Join Him on Saturday for Some Event or What Not. Finally Dee Dee decided He was Drunk Enough (and I’m not Talking Shit since He was Visibly Intoxicated, and in all Due Favor so was My Wife and I) and Decided to Head Out. Not Long after Dee Dee’s Departure My Wife and I also Opted to Call it a Night and went Home to Hangout with Our Pack of Dogs.

                    

Friday came and went uneventfully and come Saturday Morning My Wife and I had a Bit of an Issue. The Issue was Due to the Fact all Three of Us (Dee Dee included) were so Drunk that My Wife and I couldn’t Remember what the fuck We had agreed to Thursday Night. So We started Playing the Drunken Memory Puzzle Game slowly Remembering Detail after Detail as We tried to Piece it all together. By 1:30 in the Afternoon We had managed though it was quite a Struggle to Assemble the Pieces of the Puzzle in a Coherent Narrative. What We Deduced was Dee Dee, who Actually lives in the Previously Mentioned Neighboring Town, had Rented a RV Site at Cooper’s Campground which was an Extremely Large local Campground. Dee Dee had invited Us to Stop by His Campsite around 4pm to Tailgate before a Local Band Played a Show at the Campground.

Even After We recounted Thursday Nights Conversation We still had a Number of Problems. First being the Most Obvious was Dee Dee never told Us what the Actual Number of His Campsite was. He Only mentioned that We should Enter the Camp Ground, make a Left, and keep Driving until We saw the Campground Laundry Building. Apparently His Campsite was in the Vicinity of said Laundry. Also Around Here its a Bit Old School because when I asked Dee Dee for His Cell Number so We could Orchestrate Saturday’s Plan He simple Replied “Why? If You come then I’ll just See You There.” which is about as Useful as a Car without an Engine. Also We had No Idea where in the Massive RV Park/Campground the Concert Venue was since We had Never been there Before. I decided the Best Idea was to say fuck 4 O’clock since the Concert was the Main Focus of the Nights Events, and again We had No Real Information on How to Locate Dee Dee or Call or Text Him either. I thought We should Head to the Campsite to get a Literals Lay of the Land so We’d know what the fuck We were getting Ourselves into.

                   

We headed over to the Campground around 5pm or so and Once We arrived We drove through a Small Neighborhoods Worth of RV’s, RV Parking Sites, and Actual Campers in Tents. Then We reached the Main Campground Gate where there were to Humongous Signs Posted Relaying the Basic Rules and Policies of the Park which were Extensive to say the Least. What Pissed ME off at that Moment was the Fact the Campground Charged People who weren’t Current Campers (aka Customers) $5 Per Person to Enter. I though how if I was a Friend or Family Member Visiting How I’d be even More Pissed Off I’d be about the Gate Toll. All I’m saying is You visit someone in a Hotel, Motel, or Air B&B You don’t have to Pay some Bizarre and Bullshit Cover Charge just for Visiting. Anyway We made a U Turn and went back Home considering We didn’t really want to Hangout in a fucking RV Park/ Campground for several Hours Before the Show.

Once We arrived Home My Wife Hit Up the Campground Website for Details since We had Not been able to Scout Out the Location. My Wife confirmed First and Foremost that there was indeed a Concert that Night, and pulled up Some Picture of Where the Show would be Held. The Picture was unassuming as fuck as it was just a Picture of a Large Field on the Water Front. My Wife and I figured that because the Venue was a Campground that They would Erect a Small Stage for the Band to Play on. We assumed then that People Who came Would Bring Blankets or Beach Chairs to Sit On while the Band was On Stage Preforming. We figured We would need some Show Supplies so We went Out and Bought a couple of Cheap Beach Chairs, 3 Bags of Ice, A Cooler, and of Course a Case of Budweiser. Outside the Store We Filled the Cooler with the Ice and Stocked it with the Budweiser before departing. We Drove on Over to the Campsite since it was Now Quarter to Seven and the Show was Billed to Start at 8pm.

                      

Once We Arrived We discovered the Gate Attendant had Left so We were Referred by a Shitty Handwritten Note (Scrawled on a Scrap Piece of Paper Taped to the Window of the Camp Connivence Store which Doubled as the Gate House) to the Two Monolithic Signs Posted on Either Side of the Gate. We ended up having to Fill Out this Basic Form with Our Name, Address, and Vehicle License Plate Number. We then Drove Through the Gate then there was a Beat Up Old Metal Lock Box on Passenger Side which We deposited the Form along with the $10 Entrance Fee. This Pissed ME off because its a fucking Campground so Why the fuck are They charging $5 per Person just to Enter? Who or What the fuck do They think They Are some Trendy fucking Nightclub or Some Shit? I dunno but I digress.

20 Feet into the Park and I’m already Stressed Out by the Absolute Clustfuck Labyrinth Arrangement of the RVs/Campsites. Instead of using the Traditional Tried and True Lay Out in a Grid Pattern with Neat Rows of RVs/Campsites with Adequate Streets running Between the Rows. This Campground looked as if the Owner had Squeezed every last Camper/RV/Campsite They could onto the Property to Maximize Their Profits. This created a Chaotically Disorganized Landscape of Oddly Angled Cramped RVs/Campsites that were packed so Close Together that if You stepped out Your Door You’d be a approximately 2 Feet From Your Neighbor. Privacy seemed to be Totally Non Existent, and that would Definitely Drive Me fucking Insane as I relish My Privacy.

                    

To make Shit even More Nerve Racking there was a Main Road and I use that word Loosely that ran Around the Entire Perimeter of the Park. If You actually wanted to Access Anything in the Park You had to Navigate a the Maze of Haphazardly Placed RVs/Campsites using a Cramped Network of Streets that in Reality were Glorified Dirt Paths wide Enough for a Single Golf Cart to Drive on. One Thing We noted was to further Aggravate Me and the Situation Itself was There was the Utter and Total Lack of Signage so We had No fucking Clue where We were or Where We were fucking going. Meanwhile as We drove at a Whopping 3 Miles an Hour since I Drive A Half Ton Dodge Ram 1500 Pick Up Truck, and since Whoever Designed the Campground had Miserable Concept of Spacial Recognition ever Where We went was the Definition of a Tight fucking Fit. The Campground Layout was Completely fucking Random, but there were Other Exacerbating Factors We had to Content with.

The First Issue was there was a Ton fuck of People there were Walkers, Joggers, Men, Women, Kids, Senior Citizens, and Pets Milling around. Now with all of the Randomly Placed RVs/Campsites all I could think was “Holy Shit this is a fucking reciepy for a fucking Disaster. The Whole Time at any Second I expected Someone or Something to Walkout into the Street without even considering They could be Hit/Run Over by My Big Ass Truck. Then there were the goddamn Golf Carts that were all over the Place, and Who’s Occupants were Annoyed They were Forced to Pull off to the Side of the “Road” to make Room for My Big Goddamn Truck. That and Every Golf Cart seemed to be Driven by an Oblivious Idiot (Most were Deep into a Day Drinking Drunk as at Least 1 of Every 3 People I saw were Holding Beers) who had the Attention Span of a fucking Goldfish. The Day Drinking Drunks weren’t just Idly Driving around in Golf Carts They seemed to make Up a Majority of the People Staying at the Campground. Again All I could think is that One of These Dipshit Drunks would Stumble or Fall Flat on Their Face in the Road and End Up being Run the fuck Over (and more than Likely Killed).

                    

There was one thing Though that I did find Fascinating and that was that the Campground was Over Run with Rabbits. I’m Not talking the Normal Wild American Rabbit Species You’re accustomed to seeing Oh No these were Some Breed of Domesticated Rabbits. They came in a Variety of Colors, Pure Black, Black and White, Tan, Brown, Tan with Brown Markings Etc., and these fuckers were so goddamn Big You could have Picked One Up and Cradled it like a fucking Baby. No One in the Park in the Campground even Acknowledged the Rabbits Presence Though They were Everywhere. The Rabbits were Laying in the Road, Running Between or Under RVs, Hanging Out in Small Groups on Spontaneous Grassy Plots located around the Park.

The Other Weird thing was I had never Heard about the Campground Rabbits and I’m a Local. Usually when Places have an Unusual Oddity such as these Rabbits the Business uses it as a Promotional Tool to Cash in on the Eccentricity, but Apparently Not in this Case. I even Hit Up Ye Old Internet the Next Day to see if I could find any Information on these Mysterious Rabbits. While there were Slews of Reviews that all Mentioned or at Least Alluded to the Rabbits but that was All. I posted on one of the sites asking if Anyone Knew the Origin Story behind the Rabbits, Yet Unfortunately I fucking Forgot the Specific Website (and was Unable to Locate it at a Later Date). I figure Especially being in the Country that these Rabbits had been Kept for as Show Rabbits, Raised as Farm Rabbits, Raised for Food, or Possible as Pets. As these things Go I believe some of the Rabbits Escaped and spawned a Full Blown Breeding Rabbit Population. I still am curious as fuck to Know the Exact Details and will Keep Seeking Out Any and All Information Pertaining to the Campground Rabbits.

                   

After Roaming around this Campsite Hellscape We rather quickly came to the Conclusion that We would just Head to the Show Venue (wherever the hell it was) because Meeting Up with Dee Dee was a Virtual Impossibility. We continued to Drive meandering to and fro until Thank fucking Christ We found the Venue sheerly by Chance. We pulled into the Grass Parking Lot, and I immediately Noticed things were Not as We had Anticipated Not in the Least. When We Pulled into the Lot We saw a Large Cinder Block Building Painted a Nauseating Shade of Pink. I assume the Building originally was a Garage for Maintenance/Groundkeepers Lawn Mowers and other Tools of the Trade. I thought this because there was a rather Large Garage Door that was wide Open and We could See (and Hear) the Band doing Their Soundcheck. Now it was 7:40 pm and the Show was set to Start at 8pm on the Dot, But the One thing We didn’t See was Anyone Else. The Parking Lot with the Acceptation of My Wife and I was Completely Empty there wasn’t a Single Person to be Seen.

Eventually a Small Handful of Campground Campers trickled in on Their Golf Carts. We Spoke with a Man familiar with the Campground and asked what the fuck was the Deal since We had Obviously made the wrong assumption with the whole Tail Gating thing. He informed Us that there wasn’t any Tail Gating and the Campground Owners would Toss You out and Ban You for Life if They Caught You. I’ll be fucking Damned if I get thrown out of a fucking Campground that’s for Sure. Then He informs Us that They do Sell Beer there accept its Cheap Shitty Beer in Clear Plastic BBQ Cups all White Trash and shit. I am a Beer Lover but after already Buying a Case of Good Beer sure as Hell didn’t want to have to Sell Out more Cash especially for Horse Piss Beer. Lastly the Man Mentioned there was a goddamn Cover Charge in Addition to the $10 Park Admittance Fee. This Seriously Chapped My Ass I mean I paid $10 already just to get into this Hellhole 3 Ring Shit Show of a Campground, and the Idea of having to Pay a Cover well Fuck and That.

                    

At 8:15 pm I decided it was time to Re-Evaluate the Situation. Since I tend to be Anti Social and Standoffish so I felt I had to Lawyer My Point. I pointed out that Perhaps making Plans Late at Night at the Bar while Drunk wasn’t the Optimal Scenario for making Plans. Also We didn’t have Dee Dee’s Phone Number or Campsite Number and We didn’t even have a Clue where the Laundry was (which if You remember was Our one and only Reference Point). I then Proceeded to Point Out the Fact it was a Lame Local Bar Band so it wasn’t Worth it Literally and Figuratively. I added to that its a really bad sign when You show up for a Concert Twenty Minutes before the Show Starts and there is No One There. I made sure to point out that the Few People who Finally Showed Were Campers Not Locals, and if We wanted to get to Know More People talking to Vacationing Campers was a Waste of fucking Time. My Wife being the Optimist suggested We wait a Little Longer before Leaving just to See if Things Picked Up and being the Pessimist I reluctantly Agreed. At 8:30 pm My Wife Agreed with Me that it was Time to Throw in the Towel and Call it Quits.

In the End We left the Campground and Drove over to Our Favorite Watering Whole Timeout Tavern and Proceeded to have a Ultimately Awesome Evening. I have yet to see Dee Dee again but I’m sure I will in Time, and When I do I can’t wait to ask Him What The Fuck the Whole Ordeal was About. Until then it was a Intensely Bizarre Adventure and at Least it makes for an Interesting fucking Story.

Thanks For Reading,

   By Les Sober  

Just When I Though I’d Seen It All…..

The Other Day Started just like another with Me Battling Dogs to reach My Phone to shut off the Alarm. The Issue is the Dog’s damn well Know that when the Alarm goes off I get Up, and They get to Go Outside which also apparently includes giving Them Each a Treat. Needless to Say after a Moderate Struggle I managed to Shut the Alarm off and Let the Dogs Out (Yeah it was Me so Suck On That), and then Immediately headed into the Kitchen to Whip up some Coffee or Go Juice as it is Referred to Around these Parts.

To say I’m NOT a Morning Person is the Understatement of the fucking Millennium and I wish I was Joking. The Rule is NO ONE is to talk to Me for a Full Hour after I get Up because While I look Awake and with it I am More or Less running on Autopilot. Unfortunately for Me a Man born without a Patient Bone in His Entire fucking Body Our Heavily used Keurig Shit the Bed quite a While Ago so My Wife started Using a French Press. So taking Several Technological Steps backwards I put the Kettle on the Stove, and Turned the Knob to Ignite the Flame since We use Natural Gas for Cooking (and to Heat Our Tankless Hot Water Heater). The Pilot Light was Crackling Away like a fucking Downed Power Line, but Alas there was No Flame to Speak Of. Annoyed by this Inconvenience I started Turning the Other Knobs in an Attempt to get One out the Four to Ignite and Agin My Efforts were Thwarted.

                    

My Anger Kicked in like a fucking Jet Engine Revving Up as the Idea of My Precious Coffee being Delayed even if for only a Few Minutes Enraged Me to No End. It was then that it Occurred to Me that I literally could Not Remember the Last Time I called the GAs Company to Refill Our Tank. Needless to Say I was Now under the Unacceptable assumption that We had fucked up by Not Monitoring the Level of Gas in he Tank , and Thus We must have simply Run Out of Gas. This would be a Royal Pain in the Ass Trust Me. The Gas Company is called Edisto and They are Nothing Short of a Bad Joke. In all Honesty it is BY FAR the Most Half Assed Operation I have Ever Witnessed and I’ve seen Plenty during the Course of My Life. A Quick Example of Edisto’s Ineptitude Ironically was When We Scheduled a Refill for Our Tank and When the Day Arrived the Edisto Employee Didn’t. The Good Old No Call No Show Routine. I called Edisto and Explained what happened and They Apologized and Said They’d Send someone out Right Away. Again No One Came without Any Notice Whatsoever. I called Edisto a Third fucking time, and the Third Time was the Charm as They Say, and at Last I got a Refill.

I ventured out onto the Front Porch and for Some Reason I still Don’t rightfully Understand Instead of going Left to Exit the Porch. You see I’d have to Walk from the Porch around to the side of the House where the Gas Tank is, Yet instead I cut Right because You can See (but Not Access) the Gas Tank from there. I leaned over the Railing and Turned My Head towards the Gas Tank I wasn’t at all Prepared for what I saw Next. The Gas Tank was Gone. The Four Cement Blocks it Sat On where still there along with the Disconnected Gas Line but the Gas Tank Itself had for all Intents and Purposes Up and fucking Disappeared.

                    

It was in that Brief Moment I learned what the Saying “Does Not Compute” actually meant as My Brain was so Scrambled by Confusion I initially had No fucking Clue what to do or what I should do next. It’s was total Mindfucking Clusterfuck as My Eyes relayed to the Brain the Gas Tank was in Fact No Longer where it Should Be, and My Brain just Couldn’t grasp the Concept. In all Favor something like a Gas Tank (which is  6 Feet Long, Standing 4 Feet High, and made of Steel) is something You would Never even Consider a Possibility. It would be like walking Out of Your House in the Morning to Find Your 2 Car Garage Missing, or Perhaps Your Driveway suddenly Vanished without a Trace.

As I scanned the Yard still in a complete State of Shock and Awe I noticed there were a Distinct set of Truck Tire Tracks running across My Front Lawn. They Truck Tracks ran From the Middle of My Driveway across My Front Lawn and Ended by where the Gas Tank had Previously been for the last Four fucking Years. Undoubtedly I did experience a Moment of Panic mixed with Extreme Anxiety where I though the Gas Tank had been Stolen. I was Equally aware that the Idea that Someone Stole it made Abosolutely No fucking Sense Whatsoever. Beside being Big, Bulky, and Heavy as Hell the Metal that the Gas Tank is Constructed with has Zero Scrap Value like say Copper Wiring/Pipes. It was as Mr. Spock Would Say “Illogical”. Even though the Whole thing Defied Logic it was abundantly Clear that the ONLY Culprit could be the Edisto. Why the fuck They took My Gas Tank without Notice or Warning still baffled Me. I thought it was Safe to assumed it must have to do with Money even though We hadn’t bought Gas Forever so How could We owe Them a Goddamn Dime?!

                       

Out of Sheer Bewilderment I called My Mother. I figured that having spent a Majority of Her Life Living in a Small Town in the South might have some Information on the Subject at Hand. When I spoke with Her She had No Clue Either What Possibly could be Going On and Said I should Call the Police. There was No Way in Hell I was going to (at least at this point or perhaps as a LAST Resort) call the Cops to Report My Gas Tank had Gone Missing. Calling the Police before Contacting the Gas Company seemed Foolish. I then Texted a Picture of the Vacant Area where the Gas Tank had been, and a brief Synopsis as to what had Occurred to My Wife who was at Work at the Time since it was Mid Morning. She Texted Me Back that Granted the Situation was Bizarre and that We Needed to call The Gas Company. Then being the Angel that She is asked if I wanted Her to call Them, and since I still felt Half Asleep, Denied My Glorious Cup of Coffee, and Befuddled Beyond Belief said Yes. I can say with One Hundred Percent Honesty that if I had called the Call would have broken down into a Serious Shit Show because in My Current State of Mind My Anger would Undoubtedly Rear its Ugly Head.

It only took about Ten Minutes Before My Wife Called Me with the Missing Pieces of the Missing Gas Tank Puzzle. It turned Out that it Never Occurred to Us that We didn’t Actually Own the Gas Tank even though it was There When We Bought the fucking House. Apparently the Gas Company Owns it and Charges Us a Five Dollar a Month Rental Fee which We were also Utterly Ignorant of. According to the Gas Company We hadn’t need a Refill since and I kid You Not Early 2019, BUT We hadn’t Paid the Rental Fee and They came and Repossessed Their Equipment. First of All We were Never informed of this Rental Charge (Neither was My Mother which Blew My Mind that Even She wasn’t Aware), but that Makes Sense considering the Gas Company is a Prime Example of How NOT to Run a fucking Business. I also riffled through the Past Years Bills, and Low and Behold there wasn’t a Single fucking Bill from the Gas Company pertaining to an Over Due Rental Fee Situation.

                    

In the End My Wife Paid Off Our Bill in Full, and by some Odd Twist of Fate somehow was Talked into Buying a Hundred and Fifty Gallons of Natural Gas. I’ve never been a Science Whiz so I’m not even Sure How the fuck You Measure a Gas in Gallons Since the Gallon is a Unit of Measurement Used for Measuring Liquids. Also if We use so Little Natural Gas that We went Damn Near Two Years on a Full Tank means with a Hundred a Fifty Gallons of Natural Gas We have More Then We could Ever fucking Use for the Rest of Our Lives. The Amazingly Strange thing to Me is in Spite of a True Comedy of Errors the Gas Company still some how Managed to make a Sale. I also thought to Myself that if the Gas Company Guy had Knocked on the Door I could have Paid Him right Then and There and all of the Bullshit wouldn’t have been Necessary. Needless to Say the Gas Company wasted its Own Time, Gasoline, and Man Hours having Their Employee take the Tank without trying to collect Payment First Firsthand. All I know is I wasn’t the Only Person Pissed Off about How this Scenario was Handled because when the Gas Company Guy Returned to Return and Hook up the Tank He looked Madder than a Motherfucker. He really Should have Tried Knocking on the Door.

Thanks For Reading,

   By Les Sober  

FYB: Behind The Scenes And Then Some

Hello and how the hell are ya,

Justin here with my new rebranded FYB UPDATES which allows the audience a peek behind the curtain at some of the fucking oddball bullshit and entertaining insanity that is FYB. I figured why not flesh out a few things to validate these posts to Les, and make it somewhat worth while. Anyway lets get the smaller shit out of the way right fast here.

  • We here at FYB have been talking over several collaboration concepts with C Nobody and N@P the main topic being discussed is starting a proper production company with the tentative working title: Vital Productions.
  • Les has been increasingly distracted by the world around him, and at this point it’s beginning to affect his capacity for creativity. LET SHIT GO LES YOUR HEART WILL THANK YOU IN THE END BY YOU KNOW NOT ATTACKING YOU. If you don’t chances are bud that you’ll slide down the slippery slope to becoming an ill adjusted drunk.

                   

  • A reoccurring topic as of late around here is Tumblr vs. Twitter. Twitter obviously is a much bigger/popular platform, BUT since 2016 it’s been constantly dominated by politics which killed off all creativity for the most part anyways. As for Tumblr it is a notably less popular platform in the social media universe (in fact some people don’t know it still even fucking exists), BUT it never succumbed to the influences of the outside world remaining artistic to its core. The other main distinction is Tumblr is now far darker than Twitter when it comes to the matter of content. Twitter due to the political climate has become more restrictive feeling than in the years prior to 2016.

  • Lastly Les is working on a piece that most people that are aware of it do not think is wise post, but I for one side with Les no doubt about that. Les’s point really is that writers write, and sometimes writers write to exorcize some of the demons dwelling in their heads. Anyway like I said I’m with Les because I think his point is valid by staying true to form and not complying on any front.

                    

  • For myself I bought a new truck a couple weeks back and its a fucking bad ass awesome truck at that. The process went ALMOST flawlessly with the acceptation of one day in particular. One of the things I have in common with Les is the determination to no matter fucking what go into debt. Something that royally chaps my ass is owing anyone anything. I fucking pride myself on paying my bills/debts on time and in full. This is why I have and will continue to buy all my vehicles in cash which actually means Pay in Full (no car payments and all). Anyways there is always one ignorant asshole in this case and I fucking kid you not this fucking jokers name was legitimately Johnny Dangerfield. I can’t (and won’t) go into what or how much of an assclown Johnny was, but because he was a belligerent lazy fuck I had to reconfigure my money which cost me a day before pick up. The guy just wanted me to do what the fuck was convenient for fucking him like a stubborn tool. I will end this by saying Johnny Dangerfield if your fucking out there FEDWIRE! FEDWIRE YOU USLESS FUCK!

                   

Now the current battle of the bullshit is Les and Otto are at odds once again and are BOTH being disagreeable fuckers about it. As I mentioned in a previous FYB UPDATE Otto was and has taken over the DEVIANT DETECTIVE Project, but it took like I dunno a nano fucking second before Otto and Les butted heads like belligerent fuckers. The fucking irony is Otto was taking over to make things easier and funner only to slam immediately into the cliche brick wall.

The first thing Otto wanted to do is to do al little rebranding of his own by changing the name from THE DEVIANT DETECTIVE to what he feels is the far more appropriate name MR. SNUFF. I for one don’t know if the name switch is “appropriate” so to say, YET it does make a hell of a lot more fucking sense all in all. That’s not all Otto wants he would like Les to delete the first 3 if I remember correctly installments of THE DEVIANT DETECTIVE all together. Otto believes this is important since he deems that they are no longer relevant, and thus they should be done away with once and for fucking all. Otto is a staunch believer in the whole fucking scorched earth approach to things much like when a great empire in history fell. One of the first things the conquerors did was to wipe the previous leaders influence off the face of their newly acquired empire.

Les on the other fucking hand simply refuses to accept a title change or delete a goddamn thing using “for prosperity” type defenses because in reality he’s taking it personal (which it certainly is not). This though is why the name change is important as it is relevant unless Les wants to go the Old Testament/ New Testament style like the bible. Les is accusing Otto of taking what he wants to use from THE DEVIANT DETECTIVE and leave the rest which is exactly what Otto is aiming for. IT’S CALLED EVOLUTION LES AND YOU DIDN’T HEAR THE DINOSAURS BITCHING ABOUT IT.

One thing I have come to learn with FYB’s whole trial by fire mentality is regardless of the job duties I came on board to handle my actually job is primarily laying mediator (or the voice of reason as Les’s wife refers to it as) between a feuding Otto and Les. Compromise is NOT in either of their vocabularies they are both all or nothing personality types. The kicker is Les knows Otto’s right he just can’t fucking bring himself to admit it, and I get it he basically feels like THE DEVIANT DETECTIVE is his baby and now Otto is the new stepfather on the scene wanting to raise the baby too. Being conflicted is fine but you can’t use that as a fucking excuse to the fucking point its jamming up the creative process. Ego is exclusively for idiots and assholes.

                   

Tomorrow I plan on presenting my solution to the situation which is if Les is so fucking hellbent on not deleting the earlier part of the series. I’m going to suggest Les keep THE DEVIANT DETECTIVE title, and just rename the lead fucking character. Simply, easy, and problem solved quickly. That way if once the series is evaluated as it were deleting would be minimal if actually required at all. There is a distinct possibility that they are fighting over nothing at all that they both jumped the gun as they are known to do.

We shall see wish me luck I’ll need it.

Later,

   Justine Sane  

Stress Kills (0.01)

Smeldy pulled into the Last Parking Space in the entire Parking Lot Not by choice mind you, but because there simply wasn’t anywhere else He could have possibly Park. To say Smelly detested Shopping would be the understatement of the Millennium as Smedly HATED IT. He Hated it with every fucking fiber of His being. It was the actual act of Shopping that enraged Him so it was all the Other Shoppers that were the source of Smedly’s Anti-Shopping Hate.

This was a ongoing Theme in Smedly’s Life. Smedly for all intents and purposes Despised People and the Humanity in General. This was why Smedley didn’t Drive unless He had to He loved Driving itself, But again it was all the Other Drivers that sucked the fun out for Him. Also and for the same Reason Smedly avoided Sports Bars which tended to be Crowded, Loud, and Full of Personality Types He found despicable (The Sports Fanatic the one’s who refer to their favorite Team as “Our Team” or the Overly Macho Frat Boy Types that use Sports as a Reason to Binge Drink. Lastly Smedly hated Eat in Public as He had a serious and extreme aversion to People looking or Staring at Him especially when He was Eating.

   

The Trend of 24 Hour Big Box Stores such as Walmart for example were a Godsend for Smedly as it alleviated the Other Shoppers Issue. He could walk right in and move freely around the Store collecting His purchases in relative Peace. The Only other living Souls in the Entire Place where a COuple of Cashiers, and the Overnight Stocking Crew. Smedly found this pleasing as He could conduct His entire shopping trip without seeing a single other Human Being it was almost like He was the Last Man On Earth (the idea of which suited Smedly just fine).

Unfortunately Today Smedly was in Dire need of Assorted Odds and Ends, and it just so happened to be the Weekend which meant everyone and Their fucking Mothers were Off work and Running Errands all damn Day Long. Smedly sighed as He walked briskly towards the Glutton’s Grocery Store in anticipation of the Fresh Hell lying in wait for Him inside. Smedly was a Typical Commando Shopper. This in part was what made the act of Shopping during Normal Business Hours so Miserable for Smedly. A Commando Shopper has a short and concise list of a Handful of Purchases that They need to make, and They retrieve them quickly as humanly possible. Once the Purchase have been collected the Commando Shopper makes a Direct B-line towards the Nearest Cashier with Payment Method in Hand enabling them to Check out Quickly as They Can.

           

Smelly hit the Front Door like a fucking out of control Battering Ram and was immediately met with a Variable Sea of Shoppers. As Smedly scanned the Store just after entering in Contempt as The Shopping Scene He was about to Enter into was definitely as Big a Pain in the Ass as He had thought it would be. It appeared the Entire Population of the State was out doing Their Weekly Shopping Smedly thought to Himself angrily. Smedly set off delving into the Ocean of Consumers as He devised an optimal Shopping Strategy to Assist in making this Shopping Trip Less Hellish than it had to be.

Smedly decided to Start in the Dairy department since He needed some Milk and then He would work His way across the Store to the Other side picking up what He needed on the Way. Smedly was having trouble navigating through the Herd of Shoppers as They wondered aimlessly around the Store utterly oblivious to Their surroundings. The Principle for success was the same in Auto Racing Smedly thought to Himself Angrily. Like in Auto Racing the Key to getting a Head is locating an opening in-between Your Opponent that You can squeeze through to get ahead.

            

Smedly reached the Dairy case only to find the Part of the Dairy case that Housed the Milk was currently being blocked by a Self Absorbed Soccer Mom with a Full Cart and Several unruly Children Running amok as She idols chatted on Her Cell Phone. Patience was a Virtue that Smedly was sadly Born without so it took only a brief moment before Smedly lost His temper succumbing to His Growing Frustration. Smedly announced Loudly to No One in particular that it was truly Amazing  how Self Centered People became when They were on Their goddamn Cell Phones. The Woman then annoyingly told whoever She was talking to to Hold on a minute, shot Smedly a Aggressive Stare that clearly read as “Eat Shit” before rounding up Her Children, and Finally getting the fuck out of the Way already.

Smedly snatched up a Gallon of Milk like a Hawk snatching it Prey right out of Thin Air. Next Smedly needed Eggs so He walked down to the Egg section of the Dairy Area where He was accosted by a Little Old Man who looked to be over a Hundred Years Old. As Smedly was inspecting Cartons of Eggs to insure none where cracked or in any other way Damaged The Little Old Man who was a complete Stranger moseyed over and stood right next to Smedly. The Old Man launched into a diatribe about how to properly select eggs, and that He grew up on a Farm, and that His father was a Farmer and His Father before Him. Smedly honestly didn’t want to be Rude as He felt guilty snapping at Senior Citizens inspect of Showing Them the Respect They Deserved. Smedly metaphorically almost Bit His Tongue in two Trying to keep His shit together. At last Smedly couldn’t stand the inane babbling of the Old Man and promptly told Him thank you for the helpful hints, and God Bless the Farmers before making a hasty exit.

           

Smedly circumvented the Store amassing His Purchases as best He could having to deal with Slow Old Ladys pushing over loaded Shopping carts full of canned Cat food, the Swarms of Aggitated Children Who’s Parents didn’t seem to give a fuck about how their kids acted especially in Public, the Idle Shoppers who stand periodically in front of the Selves staring intently at the Products as if They are expecting to Learn the meaning of Life, the Young Couples that wasted time and clogged up isles with Their over abundant displays of Affection, the Loners who walk down the isles like a Death Row Prisoner as They head to Execution, the cell phone shoppers that had to price compare every single item them purchase, the Cell Phone Zombies who come to complete standstill wherever They are and post up like a fucking a Volunteer Tree, and the Indecisive Shoppers that spend Their time taking items off the shelves only to look at it, and place it back on the shelf before removing yet another item over and over like their trapped in a fucking Loop.

The Line was occupationally long reminding Smedly of the Line at a Theme Park one of the Ones that You stand in for an Hour and a Half for a 3 minute ride. The Line inched along at a painfully slow pace which only served to irritate Smedly further. When Smedly felt He had reached full bullshit saturation (and was in real risk of creating a sense that would inevitable get Him banned for Life from the Store) He smartly asked the Young Man behind Him who was purchasing a 12 pack of PBR and a Frozen Pizza if He would hold His place in Line since He inconveniently had to Use the Bathroom which wasn’t an lie entirely. While Smedly didn’t actually need to Use the Bathroom He was headed there none the Less as the Bathroom was the only place Smedly could get a modicum of Silence and a small dose of Privacy.

           

As Smedly entered the Bathroom He became aware of some Hipster Business Man standing at the Urinal emptying His bladder while talking loudly on His Blue Tooth Ear Piece. Smedly had a special hate in His heart for Blue Tooth Ear Pieces which did serve a purpose when it came to Driver Safety outside of a Car though a Blue Tooth Ear Piece was Unnecessary and Asinine. Not only was this Guy jabbering away while using the Facilities He was waving His right arm around like a Air Traffic Controller with Wild abandon which almost lead to Him inadvertently smacking a few Shoppers as They made Their way to the Bathroom sinks. Smedly instantly judged then Man was an all around asshole, and Someone should fucking do something since this Guy obviously needed to be felt with. Smedly then accepted the fact that the person He was thinking of would have to be Him as No One else seemed to be Volunteering to do so.

Once the Bathroom was empty accept for the Two of Them Smedly slid up behind the Blue Tooth Guy and applied a chock hold that would make a Boa Constrictor Jealous. Smedly then dragged the shocked Blue Tooth Guy backwards into the Handicapped Stall. Once in the Stall Smedly frantically fidgeted with one hand to engage the Door Latch which He finally accomplished by almost breaking His wrist in the Process. Once the Door was Latched Smedly swung the Man around so He was facing the Toilet, and then pushed the Man down to His Knees still applying the Choke Hold like His life depended on it.  Then Smedly released the Choke Hold and using all of His strength and with His full weight behind it Shoved The Man’s face directly into the Toilet. The Man attempted to use His arms to keep from being slammed face first into the toilet bowl, but Smedly used His feet to stomp on the Man’s hands forcing Him to let go of the Toilet Seat.

          

To add insult to injury the Toilet had been apparently been used several times without being flushed so Once the Man’s face was submerged and He was struggling with all His Might Smedly decided to keep the MAn’s head pinned in the Toilet with His Foot to avoid the disgusting Mess. As Smedly stood there with His foot firmly planted on the back of the Man’s Head Smedly thought to Himself that the Drowning was taking longer than Usual, and that this Guy must have the Lung capacity of an Olympic Swimmer or some shit. Smedly was aware that His window of opportunity was closing as the Guy was making a great deal of noise and it was just a matter of time before another Shopper came in to vacate Their Bowels.

Smedly who had always been able to think on His feet realized what He had to do and do it fast. Smedly took His foot off on the back of the Man’s head for a split millisecond before bringing it down like a Sledge Hammer down at the Base of the Man’s Skull. The Man’s neck snapped with a loud Pop as if a Giant was cracking its knuckles, and the Mans arms dropped like a bad transmission as His body went limp. At last the Job was done and there was one less asshole in the world, well that’s how Smedly felt about in anyways. Smedly calmly Hoisted the Dead Man’s Lifeless Body up into the Seated position on the Toilet. He then pulled down the Man’s pants to sell the look that He wasn’t Dead, but using the Bathroom like any living Person. Smedly peaked out of the Stall to insure that coast os clear before exiting swiftly without making a sound like a Demon’s Whisper.

            

Smedly made His way back to His Cashier in the nick of time as He was Next in line. Smedly Thanked the Young Man for being cool enough to save His place for Him while He went to the Bathroom. The Young Man said it was no problem since it happens to everyone at least once in Their Lives. Smedly happily agreed as He paid the Cashier. With His purchases bagged up and in His Cart Smedly calmly left the Grocery Store, loaded the Groceries into His car, carefully shut the Trunk of His Car, hopped in, and Drove Off with a Smile on His Face feeling completely Stress Free.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (52/365)

“Relax it’s a Cliche Cop Tactic. While He runs Our names for outstanding Warrants and the Like He is also watching Us intently.” said Lee breaking His self imposed Silence.

“Why is He watching Us He already pulled Us over. What need would there be for Him to watch Us?” asked the Driver Nervously His voice wavering slightly with Anxiety and a little Angst.

“He’s watching Us and Intentionally taking His Time. He’s doing it to make Us Tense, I mean that’s the Point. If We get Nervous because say We have Something to Hide or Especially if We’re Guilty of Something We would undoubtedly Crack under the Pressure. And When We cracked We’d fuck up Some How You know like Give Something Away. We could Panic and make a Run for it, We could Nervously glance over at the Car or Something Similar. That’s the Guilty Mentality Our beloved Cop Friend is Currently Searching for.” chimed in Dizzy His Voice Flat and Monotone having been greatly Sobered by the Run in with the Law.

           

The Trio returned to quietly Sitting on the Curb as They waited for the Cop to Return with His Verdict on If/ Who could possible be in Legal Trouble as a Result of the Situation. As Lee sat He couldn’t help thinking to Himself this, THIS was the Part of being Pulled Over He Hated the Most of All. The Public Shaming that Occurs when You’re Pulled Over is what Lee found to be Utterly Embarrassing. Sitting in Your Car or Worse in this Case on the fucking Curb as an Onslaught of Other People as They Drive by Rubber Necking like the Motherfuckers They Are.

The fucking Hypocrisy of it struck a Nerve in Lee like a 12 Pound Sledge Hammer. All These People Driving by with look of Condemnation or Vague Disgust as if They had never been Pulled Over before at some fucking Point in Their Lives. How quickly They forgot the Humiliation of being Treated like a fucking Idiot by a Callous Uncaring Cop aside from the Parade of Pretentious Pricks Driving by Leering Away. People are Shit Lee summized once Again when The Cop Finally came Striding back Over walking Heavily so His Boots made a Deep, but Audible Thumping sound as He Clomped Across the Asphalt like an asshole.

           

“Alright Listen Up as I’m saying this Once and Once Only. Benny (which was the Driver’s Name if Dizzy or Lee had actually asked Him) if there is a Victim in this Scenario then it’s You. Obviously theses to Gentlemen are Obviously Intoxicated, and They’re Bigger than You so They just Bullied You into this Idiocy to begin with. My Point is I have No doubt You didn’t participate willingly.”said the Cop matter of Factly without Blinking an Eye.

The Cop then Dismissed Benny who got in His Car and drove off as Fast as He dared. The Cop then told Dizzy and Lee They could Stand if They wished. Lee was instantly Irritated by the Cop’s Statement. What the fuck was the Point OF COURSE They rather Stand like Men then be Assigned to Sit on the Curb like a Misbehaving Kid.

“As for You Two I’m going to Let You Off with a Stern Warning. I really don’t have the Time to Attend to Juvenile Bullshit when there is REAL Crimes being Committed. So I suggest You do One of Two things Gentlemen You either Go Home and Sleep it Off, Or if You insist on Going Out there is a Bus Stop right around the Corner. And let ME make this ABUNDANTLY CLEAR if I have to Deal with You Two Again I will Arrest You I Guarantee You That.” said The Cop in a seriously Authoritative Tone as He stared at Dizzy and Lee unflinchingly.

           

Stay Tuned For The Next Volatile Installment Of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (53/365)

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober.

Millennials, a Bistro, and a Whole Lot of Bullshit.

This Weekend My Wife and I went to see Her Cousin Ave compete in that Weekend’s Auto Races since Ave had become an Adamant Racer several years ago, but this was the First time My Wife and I were able to Attend. After the Race We got the pleasure of meeting His Pit Crew so to Speak as They were Working Their Asses off at the Time, and We were Afforded an Up Close and Personal look at His Race Car. Ave’s Parents Kay and Jay along with Ave’s Wife Steph were there though They didn’t attend a great deal of Ave’s races. This was simply because Watching Ave Race was/is Nerve Wracking to Say the Least for His Mother and His Wife.

After Hanging out for awhile Behind The Scenes We left the Race Track and headed for Our Dinning Destination for the Evening just a short 15 minutes Away called Pompous Bistro and Beer Garden. Since Ave was the one who made the Reservation (and I trust Ave), AND with Beer Garden in the Name I was Highly Optimistic.

You see I rather Eat in than Eat Out honestly since Restaurants can be a Huge fucking Hassle especially if You’re Not a Trend Chasing Hipster Lemming or a fucking Foodie. In Addition I am NOT a Fine Dining Person fucking Period.  I am Reviled by the so called Luxurious Fine Dinning Experience I find it Disgusting all Around and on All Levels. The Whole Arrogant Elitist Pomp and Circumstance feeling, nay believing They are Superior to Others based on Their fucking Bank Accounts. They can Administer Fas Gras Enema’s to Each other for all I fucking Care, but as For Now on the Subject of Alleged Fine Dining I Digress.

           

We pulled up outside and parked on the Street My Wife’s Family had already arrived, and We walked Through a Gate into a Maze like Garden that really was kind of cool. As We walked around a winding trail through the Garden making Our way to the Hostess there were Little outlets a few with Fire Pits, a Couple Lounge Areas, and several Tables Intertwined throughout.  There was so much Vegetation along with an Abundant amount of Flora and Fauna that the Garden had an underlying Jungle feel to it.

At last We reached The Hostess station which was located Outside of the Main Building as it were. I say Building because it was a Mediterranean Style Outside Dinning area where there No Actual Walls there’s just Shades hanging in-between Pillars to Keep the Sun out of Dinners Eyes. I’ve seen this Concept in the Islands of The Great Southern Swamp, and what I have always wondered, and still do is How the hell Do You Keep People from Robbing/Vandalizing the Your Establishment if THERE NO FUCKING WALLS?!

Anyway We meet up with My Wife’s Family Who were Seated already when a Overtly Dramatic Millennial Euro Trash Waitress sauntered lazily up to Our Table. She was Wearing a Sun Dress with a Plunging Neck Line so there was plenty of Opportunities to Show Off Her Collection of Pretentious Tattoos. She had every fucking Cliche in the Book of Hipster Tattoos there was the Traditional Ying Yang, OM Sign, Buddha Statue, Lotus Flower, The Joshua Tree, A Japanese Coy Fish, a Fairy, The Symbol for the Female Sex, an Elaborately Done Peace Sign, and at Least 3 Asian Characters that Adorned Her Arms, Shoulders, and Neck.

          

She Talked as if She was Bored as Fuck and could care facing Less about Us or any Other Customers. As She stood at the head of Or Table with Her head Slightly Tilted to one side, and a Vacant Stare into the Horizon informed Us of the Following. Apparently the Bistro had recently Implemented a New Policy Our Food Would NOT be coming out all Together BUT rather randomly when ever it is or isn’t ready. This concept of Theirs goes against  fucking Common Sense as it Utterly fucking Transforms the Dinning Experience into One Drawn Out 3 Ring Bullshit Culinary Circus.

Going Out to Eat is at the Heart about Spending time and converting with Friends and Family over Food. That is why Real Restaurants rely on Timing as one of the Key Principles/Factors of Service in The Food MUST GO OUT TOGETHER NEVER SEPARATELY. This Provides for the Meal and Social Gatherings Cohesiveness and Efficiency on All Fronts. Bottom Line: No One Likes or Wants to be The Person at the Table that Doesn’t have Their Food Point Blank.

We gave The Euro Trash Hipster Our drink Order and though the Sign claimed this was a Beer Garden it was unlike any fucking Beer Garden I’ve been to Before. Usually a Beer Garden is a Large Banquet Hall lined with Rows of Tables and Benches, and They have a Very Distinct Bavarian (German) Theme to It. There is also Large crowds of Happy Beer Loving Binge Drinkers Hooting and Howling with Laughter in Total Abandon. I say this because when I looked on the Menu There was No Beer List. There was a Wine List and a Cocktail Menu, but again Not a single piece of Literature on the Table pertained to Beer. As I was annoyingly glaring around I noticed a Floor to Ceiling Black Board with the Title “NO CRAP ON TAP” at the Top. Under the Header was a short list of 8 to 10 Craft Beers I was Unfamiliar with, and that was it that was Their Beer Garden Concept.

           

We got Our drinks and about 25 minutes or so a Stereotypical Portland/Seattle/Colorado Millennial Girl sporting a Bright Plad Flannel Shirt, Jeans, and Sneakers arrived at Our table. She gave Us the Specials which I didn’t pay attention to. She then goes into a LONGER DISCLAIMER that Due to the New Policy Our Food would NOT be coming out Together but rather whenever the fuck its ready. I ordered a Bowl of Lobster Mac and Cheese, My Wife Had one of those European Meat and Cheese Samplers, Ave and Steph ordered Tacos, and Kay Ordered the Lobster Mac and Cheese with an additional House Salad, and Jay ordered two Hot dishes I forget what they were.

40 minutes Later the First couple Dishes come out and, Ironically All the Dishes were Hot Dishes while the Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate did Not. Again this makes No fucking sense since Obviously a fucking House Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate should have been first since They were the Easiest to Fix. About half an Hour passes as the next few Items came in a On going Bizarre Fashion. My Wife’s Aunt Kay was Served Her Mac and Cheese 20 Minutes BEFORE Her House Salad was served. Also why the fuck You wouldn’t prepare the Two Orders of Mac and Cheese since I had order it as well at the same Time and serve them accordingly, But I was left in the Lurch as it were.

           

Finally everyone But My Wife and I had not only been Served They had completely finished. And since We had to kill so much fucking time waiting on Our Food that was slowly trickling out of the Kitchen We had exhausted virtually every topic of Conversation. Everyone was Tired from the Days Affairs and having Eaten where Now Succumbing to the Tiredness that comes with Digestion. Then My Wife’s food came to the Table directly followed by Mine. Now My Wife’s Family was being as cool as shit about it it was still apparent They were ready to Head on Home. It didn’t matter unfortunately even though They were being cool You can’t get Your food last and NOT feel fucking rushed, and that sucks since You go out to Enjoy your food and not feel like You have to Eat it fast as fuck since it came out so goddamn late.

The Worst Part was the Perky Flannel Millennial Girl kept popping by Our table periodically, and was trying to be all uplifting and positive TOTALLY OBLIVIOUS to the fact that the Entire Table was slowing becoming fed up with Their Food Service. Honestly if We weren’t having Dinner with My Wife’s Family I would have walked the fuck out as soon as the Euro Trash Millennial made the Initial New Service Policy Statement. And of course I’m trying like a Motherfucker to bite My Tongue and play it cool since I’m with My In laws and Not absolutely Loose My Shit since You couldn’t designed a Restaurant I could have Hated any More Than I fucking Hated Pompous Bistro I fucking assure You. I just kept envisioning snapping and Choke Slamming The Millennial Food Server wearing 1950’s Librarian Black Rim Glasses, and a Wool Knit Hat (so He looked like the Lost Member of Cold Play or some shit) through a fucking Table.

           

At last the Painfully Drawn Out Affair was done accept Now (and I don’t have a fucking clue WHY) Some People at Our Table wanted Dessert. Mind You had some unfinished Business that I had to attend to later that Evening, and it was a 90 minute Drive back to where I needed to be to do so. My Wife saw Me cringe with Contempt and the mention of Dessert reassured Me it was just Ice Cream with a Pastry or something similar So it should be that Bad. I responded by saying that We were dealing with complete culinary idiocy being felt out by a Cliche Cast of Mind Numbing Millennial Trendy Hipster Sons of Bitches.

Seriously it Took an HOUR before a House Salad that had been ordered actually made it to the Table not to Mention Her Cold Meat and Cheese Deal that essentially came out Dead Last. My Point being I had No Faith in these fucking Fools, and Any Possible Good Will had Faded Away Long, Long Ago. I wanted just One thing and one thing Only. I wanted to Leave Immediately at that Point in the Evening. Just under Half an Hour later The 3 Ice Cream Desserts Arrived, We ate Then quickly, Paid, and Left Never to Return.

           

I still Can’t wrap My head around such a Obviously Outrageously Idiotic Service, and No One I have asked Plenty of Whom Have Experience be it Past or Present in the Restaurant Service Industry. All I have come up with is Pompous Bistro was Built as a Monument to The Mundane Millennial Lifestyle where No One makes Plans, Shit Just Happens, and Where People can Lounge Around all Day with No Concerns or Responsibilities. Who cares when Their food comes When They have No Where To Be and Nothing To Do other than Obsess about Social Media, Play Moronic Games on Their Smart Phones, Stream Netflix for 12 Hours StraightBinge Watching Bullshit, Idly fucking around with Apps, and Sitting Around Working on Their Never Going to Happen Screen Play.

Thanks for Reading,

by Les Sober

I’m Being Held Hostage By A 6 Year Old

I live in a Tiny Town which means there far less fucking People I have to Tolerate or Deal with. Not only that but the Community that I live in is made up of 65% Vacation Homes meaning theres only a Handful of Full Time Residents living out here by The Lake. So theres PLENTY of fucking Elbow Room for Everyone which someone like Me Fully Appreciates.

As a Writer I have My own set of Practices and Rituals when it comes to Writing one of which is I prefer to Write Outside whenever possible. Since Our current Home Office has a rather Massive Front Porch, and the Weather being absolutely Perfect this time of Year makes it an Optimal Time to Write Outdoors. It’s Not to Hot and Not too cold You know all that Goldie Locks and the Three Bears bullshit.

Now unfortunately one of the Other Full Time Residents live just across the Street from of and have Kids three to be exact. While I have never seen Hide nor Hair of the Two Older Children the Youngest Montana (who is Six Years Old) is a MUCH Different fucking Story I assure You.

       

There several issues that contribute to My ongoing Problem which is Montana has made it a habit recently of coming over and Talking to Me while I’m on the Porch Writing or at any He sees Me as a Matter of Fact. Now Don’t get Me wrong I may be an Asshole, but I’m Not a fucking Monster. I don’t mind Waving or Saying Hello, and I don’t mind chatting  for a moment Here and There with Him time permitting.

Montana’s Parents turn Him loose Outside with No Limitations on where He can Roam, and with No Adult Supervision. They just put Him out like You would a Dog and by that I mean I don’t think an Adult is paying any Attention to what the fuck the Kid is up to They seem Oblivious. Out of Sight Out of Mind doesn’t Work for Raising a Child.

We live in such a Remote Area there aren’t a whole hell of a lot of Kids for Montana to play with. Outside of Montana and His two Siblings I can only think of One other Child living in the Neighborhood (and He’s 14 so He obviously has no fucking interest in hanging out with a little 6 year old Kid). So Montana has to Entertain Himself a majority of the Time which has to be Lonely as Children are Social Creatures, and Yes I don feel bad for the Kid in that respect. I grew up in a Neighborhood devoid of Other Kids for Years and it Seriously fucking Sucked. Imaginary Friends only go so Far.

       

Not to mention that I don’t know a damn thing about Kids Not a Single thing mind You. I don’t know what They like, what They don’t like, How they Develop, What They do at certain ages, Behavior shit, Their interests, Their Hobbies, Not a Single fucking Clue. This is due to the fact I’m a grown fucking Man who doesn’t have Kids (as of Yet), and while there plenty of Kids in My Family We live all over the fucking Place. I don’t have a lot of Exposure to Kids on any sort of consistent basis is My point. I don’t remember being Six Myself for fuck’s sake.

Since I’m a Grown fucking Man I have nothing in common with a 6 Year Old, and absolutely No Reason to be associating with one at Length. The last fucking thing I need is Especially in a Small fucking Town is to get Labeled the Creepy Old Guy that Parents Warn Their Kids about Avoiding. I don’t work with Kids in any capacity or in The Child Care Field as a Teacher for example, Montana is not a Related to Me nor Is he the Child of Dear Family Friends, and Again Montana is just 6 years Old. Theres NO reason on God’s Green Earth for Him to be associating with an Adult Virtual Stranger. Shit like that gets People Talking  out Their asses and Spreading Rumors like Wild Fire. I’m not going to be perceived by the Local Community as some sort of potential Child Molester or fucking piece of shit Pedophile thats for fucking Sure.

        

Now while My wonderful and Much Friendlier/Social Wife has already gone over and introduced Herself, got to Know Montana’s Parents, and Chat with them awhile I have Not. To Be utterly Honest I haven’t even so much as Waved Hello to Either of Them which makes Me look like a REAL Dick. The funny thing about it is when My Wife met Montana’s Parents and mentioned Him They had No Idea We knew of His Existence. My Point is They had No idea Their young Child had been across the Street hanging out and talking to a Adult Stranger on a Frequent Basis.

Thus Not knowing shit about Kids, Not wanting to get Labeled a Pervert, and Not wanting to Hurt the Kids feeling since I don’t know the appropriate way to tell or get an annoying Child to Fuck Off I have been avoiding Montana like the motherfucking plague. So every fucking Day for the last week or so before I set foot outside I wonder around My house peering and leering out of Windows to see if Montana is any where near by at any given moment. If I’m set up outside and working away I will stop what i’m doing, tell Montana I have work to do, and head inside for Who Knows how long since its all dependent on Montana going the fuck away or at least Staying in His own fucking Front Yard for once.

        

I have No idea how the Hell this Bizarre Situation with a 6 Year Old essentially and effectively holding Me hostage in My own fucking Home is going to End I just hope and Pray it isn’t an utter fucking Shit Show. What I need to do is get some credible advice on the subject Hopefully before I lose My Shit due to growing Frustration and All fucking Hell Breaks Loose. I’m getting too Tired to be The Old Me.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober (12:23 am)

A Bedtime Story For Adults Only

This Little Diddy was brought to My Attention by My Brother’s Good Friend Paul a few Days ago. As I mentioned My brother was in Town and He invited a Few of His Friends Along with Him. Some of the People where a My Brother’s High School Partner in Crime Ethan and His Wife who just had Their first Baby just 4 Months prior to the Trip.

The thing that Truly Sucks about Your Friends having Kids is on One Hand You’re obviously Psyched as Hell for Them as becoming Parents is an Awe  Inspiring Life Changing Event. Not to mention in loo of the Anxiety of Bring a New Life into the World They’re Happy as All Get Out about experiencing the Miracle of Birth First fucking Hand.

        

The Flip Side of the Coin is it makes Hanging Out difficult and Rather Boring as EVERYTHING They will talk about is fucking Baby Related. There’s the Baby’s Sleep Schedule, Feeding Schedule, Baby Gear, Baby Books/Articles, Baby Development, Baby Health Issues, Baby Blogs/Vlogs, Baby Achievements (such as Rolling the fuck Over for example), and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEIR STORIES IS ABOUT THE GODDAMN KID.

       

So Everyone was mingling around on the Front Porch just Killing Time and the Talk (as it does 98% of the time when hanging with New Parents) quickly turned to Their Baby and Baby Shit in General. Thats when Paul busted this Little Bit of Sunshine to Brighten Our Day. It Served as a Small Reminder that Not Everything about Being Parents is Boasting about Their Baby. Babies are Cute but They can Drive You to the Point of Actual Madness. The Trick I’m Told is Surviving the First 3 Months which are HELL AND A HALF, but if You can Keep Enough of Your Sanity in Tact after the Initial 90 Days Your quality of Life Greatly Improves.

       

The following Video is the Story Go The Fuck To Sleep by Author Adam Mansbach, Illistrated by Ricardo Cortes, and Read by No Other than Mr. Samuel L. Jackson.

Warning: The Following Video Contains Strong Language and Excessive Use of the “F”  Word that Some Viewers May Find Offensive!

Enjoy.

We Hope You Enjoyed Tonight’s Bedtime Tale as Much as We Do.

Thanks for Reading/Viewing/Listening,

 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