Since I can’t seem to find the words lately, here’s a rant written for me by my dear friend Phil.
Ok, so I’m here to step up and give Kelley a nice ranty voice behind one of her most frustrating topics: men.
Now this isn’t going to be the typical rant. It’s not going to be vague and talk about how frustrating we as men are in general. This is going to have some very specific examples ranging friends to family.
Let’s tee of with Mr. Kelley. She used to have a cute nickname for him, but those days are OVER. Why? Well it’s because he’s acting like a little bitch. So we’ll just refer to him as Mr. Kelley. It seems that someone (not mentioning names here) is having a hard time understanding that just because their relationship didn’t work out, that common decency should still be…common. Ignoring phone calls, text messages and emails just shows that he’s just a big child. Where the hell is your pride? Get over it, it’s over and done with. Grow up and be a man.
Now for the best friend. Being no stranger to how frustrating friends of the opposite sex, I know how frustrating it can be. How is it that someone who is supposed to know you and understand you can so equally frustrate you at the same time?? Seriously, he’s supposed to be providing relief and friendship, not the same kinds of headaches as every other fucker is town is causing.
We save the last for dear ol’ Dad. Being a father myself, I generally don’t like to trash dads. Except when they are being dopes.
Remember Kelley’s beloved Scooter cat? The one that went to go live on the farm? Well Kel’s dad does and he’s none too pleased about it. Why? He doesn’t like the fact that the cat will be…OUTSIDE. Never mind that cats lived exclusively outside for MILLIONS OF F’ING YEARS. Apparently he wants new laws…a program called NCLO. No Cat Left Outside.
The funny part? After calling and bitching about the farm plan, did he offer an alternative? I mean for the complaining he did, surely he would have offered an alternative had he really cared so much about ol’ Scooter cat. Maybe he could try and find an indoor home? Offer to take old buddy Scooter to live with him to be cared for? Umm…nope. Didn’t do a damn thing. He took the “seagull strategy”. He blew in, squawked and shit everywhere, then flew away and left someone else to clean up his mess.
So there’s my take on Kelley’s troubles. I personally think she’s too tired of it all to give a good rant, so I’m glad to be able to come in and fill in for her!
Do you know what an Amen Break is?
A Goodbye
On July 6 I brought Scooter to a new home. As we all know, this is something I have been trying to do for years now. The cat is just unfit for living indoors. I love him dearly, but the cuteness factor was not worth the stress and high blood pressure. So I found the solution when my friend, who lives on a ranch/farm, suggested that I bring him to live out in the country. She said some other people had brought their cats out there and they had adjusted well. I thought this would be the perfect solution, because he will be outdoors, but still around plenty of people and other animals.
So I brought the fat little bastard out there. It took him a little while to come out from under stuff (like my car) but we brought him to the patio to hang out with Marie, the cross-eyed pregnant kitty. He had food, water, shelter, shade, and he’d already made friends with two of the locals (Marie, and Daisy the gold retriever).
I left him there, at peace, knowing he would be fine and would adjust quickly to his new surroundings, even if he IS a scaredy-cat. Genovieve is thrilled. She misses him a little bit from time to time, but for the most part she is purely blissful. She’s happy and cuddly and talkative and playful. She and I are happy. :) It’s a goodbye. But it’s also a new beginning, for all of us.
A Funeral
A couple weeks ago, Ley and I were driving to Corpus to visit some family and have some fun (it was her grandfather’s 80th birthday, and I was going to visit my SIL and nephews). On the way there, I got a phone call from my mom. She said my great aunt had been found dead in her chair. (Notice I did not say that she “passed away” because, quite frankly, I find that term to be rather trite and perhaps a bit too polite. :P) In any case, that following Monday I drove with my family to the tiny little town of Basile, Louisiana for the funeral. That night we went to a family visitation / viewing at the funeral home. I’m not too good with family gatherings, or large crowds of any kind, so I was a bit uncomfortable and felt like everyone was staring at me. But I’m glad I went. That part was probably the most special to me. There was a very sweet memorial put together for her with pictures and stories and mementos. It was really touching, and I even cried a little bit. She was such a sweet, wonderful woman.
Next morning was the actual funeral. It was Catholic, so there was lots of standing and kneeling and repeating-after-me. But I was very glad to be able to pay tribute to a woman as special as her.
An Illness
The day I came back from the funeral, I had a terrible pain in my jaw. It was so bad that I could barely open my mouth at all, to eat or drink or speak. Next day I was struck with the flu. By the end of the day I was moping around with a fever and all sorts of symptoms. I was pretty sure I had a sinus infection because the whole thing started with the jaw pain. Over the next couple of days, it started to get better, so I was going about my business. But by Sunday, I was in the pits of fiery hell. My throat was on FIRE. I could barely breathe, let alone speak or laugh or cough, without my throat being caused excruciating pain. So Monday morning I made a doctor’s appointment straight away.
The doctor sent me home with a diagnosis of: sinus infection, ear infection, and throat infection. She took one look at my throat and literally said “oh my god”. I was handed a bag full of samples of some medicine to clear up my symptoms, and a prescription for an antibiotic which she said that I “desperately needed”. Today my voice still sounds rather gruff, but no more throat pain. Just lots of coughing and plenty of weakness all over. And nose running and all that crap. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh.
A Strange Happening
Yesterday evening, when I was busy feeling like a hefty sack of crap, I got a knock on my door. I thought I should probably answer it because it could be one of my family members coming to check on me since I wasn’t answering my phone. It was not, however, one of my family members. It was a lady wearing something reminiscent of a biohazard suit. A ghetto biohazard suit. Some long black plastic suit thing, with gloves, and a face mask. She informed me that my neighbor across the sidewalk (basically the building next door, but our doors are on the side, so they face each other) had passed away (her words, not mine).
She asked me when the trash was picked up, so I gave her the details, and she informed that they would just put the trash there to be picked up the following morning. Then she told me that the woman had died on July 4. Which left me wondering if they had just now found her and that’s why they were wearing the biohazard suits. And if they had just now found her, how did they know she had died on July 4? Perhaps the woman just lived in pure mess, since apparently she had lived there for 13 years, and THAT is why they needed the biohazard suits? It was all quite curious, but I really did not want to inquire.