About me
Name:
Location: Columbia, South Carolina, United States
American Flag League

Rebel Alliance

Alliance

"Moe wouldn't trade me his chicken sammich for a nice, cool puppy smoothie. Indeed!"

- Glenn Reynolds

(This is a Filthy Lie)

Homespun Bloggers

Blogs For Bush

Blogs Against Hillary

Republican Attack Squad

Monday, June 06, 2005

Saturday

Friday afternoon I agreed to help El Bastardo do some little repairs and fixer upper stuff on Saturday to a new trailer he recently acquired. No big fuss. I was feeling pretty good last week and rather looked forward to some fun labor the coming weekend. So, I woke up about 08:30 the following morning, feeling mighty good and with a hankering for red meat. So even before I got out of bed, I decided I was gonna fix me a big ol' roast beef sammich for breakfast. I know beef for breakfast sounds wrong, but I keep my diet balanced finely between meat, potatoes, and veggies.

Well, I crawl out of the rack, head to the head, wash my face and brush my teeth,and mosey on in the kitchen. But what do I find when I open the fridge door? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. The entire fridge is completely empty, and my 1 1/5 pound of fresh roast beef is gone too, as is my pastrami, steak fritters, and deli meats. Turns out, my intrusive fat aunt's evil (and incredibly stupid) daughter, decided that everything in my fridge was "garbage", so she threw out about $30 of freshly bought groceries. So, after I smash up some furniture to vent my anger, and call Fatty McAss to tell her what bitches I think she and her bug-eyed daughter are, I took a shower to calm down and pray for their deaths.

The only grub I had left in the house, was frozen veggie lasagna and frozen cheese pizzas. (The harlot had even thrown out my half gallon of milk, so cereal was out of the question) So, I angrily and grudgingly shoved a little cheese pizza in the oven and hopped online to get the schedule with El Bastardo sorted out. It took a couple hours to get in touch with him, but finally did. We got everything sorted out, and I had to borrow my grandpa's truck to haul some materials we needed down to El Bastardo's house. So, I go to get the truck, but it can't be that simple, can it? Of course not! There always has to be a catch with these bastards.

The truck is full of stuff. Some junk, some not, which Lardo de Massiveass felt she had the right to come in this house and dispose of. But me, being the nice (and often,too damned nice) sumbitch that I am, I decide to drop the stuff off at the local dump on my way to El Bastardos. I get to the dump, and even more fun begins to ensue. They have rules. Rules in a trash dump, you heard me right. No clothes, no foodstuff, no this and that, and all cardboard has to be seperated,etc. Holy crap.

So, I walk in the little trailer shack to get the specifics, and I find two bulldykes in there, foaming at the mouth and looking at me like I just pissed on Rosie O'Donnell and dented their Harley's. Both of them looked like Larry The Cable Guy, but one had a mullet and the other a flat top. This afternoon ain't getting off to a good start.

After a few moments of manly grunts and snorts between us, I finally had the general idea of where and how to dispose of which and what I was seeking to dump off. As I go through the stuff, to seperate the electronic doodads from the ceramic and plastic,etc..I find some familiar stuff. My Tulsa Brewing Company glass from my college days in Tulsa in 1997, and my Smurf collector glasses and a little sipping cup,from even before I was able to walk. These things, Fatty McAss saw as "garbage to be disposed of". Well, after finding these fond memories of my childhood so casually discarded by that fat, evil, heartless, selfish cultist heathen, I began being more thorough before throwing stuff out,but did it much faster and angrier. I really hate her. So, my day is far from improving.

Finally, after a half hour of cautious discarding and sweating like a Shanghai whore when the fleet's in, I was finished. But, I still had a bunch of crap left that I couldn't dispose of at the dump, so I opted to return to the house and drop it in the dumpster. I got back here, and began tossing the other stuff in the bin, then bags started busting. Great. Now I smell like a fine blend of sweat, coffee grounds, and diaper shit. How wonderful. All this unnecessary nonsense, because a fat devil worshipper is too lazy to dump her own garbage. Evil demon woman. (I should note, that as I was dumping stuff, I found many bags and boxes of her household garbage. She just stops by the house,dumps her trash in my grandfather's truck,and expects others to dispose of it for her. She's a bitch. It's not just a name, it's her lifestyle)

When I'm done with that crap, I drive up to the house, wash my hands and arms off with the hose, then finally begin heading to El Bastardos'. I'm running 75 minutes later than the time I told him I'd initially be there. Thanks again, to the devil worshipper, for ruining my perfect record of punctuality.

I wheel up in his driveway around 15:30, and we immediately get to work trying to chop down and dispose of a tree that is in the way of where we gotta stick his newly swindled acquired single wide. He'd already sawed through most of it before I arrived, but his chainsaw conked out on him. We took turns fighting the unruly little beast, and finally got it to fire one more time, and finished sawing the tree at proper angles to get it to fall where it needed to. After that's done, I go up and grab the tree to drop it, and as it begins to fall, El Bastardo (chainsaw still running) freaks out, grabs my shoulder, and damn near gets me crushed by the tree,and mutilated by the chainsaw. I'm trying to dodge a falling tree in front of me, and a running chainsaw being run up behind me. Not good.

Anyhoo, after that little fiasco, we set to trying to trim the limbs off so we can chop up the trunk and move it aside. Sadly, the chainsaw wouldn't start again. Finally, he got the extension cord, electric saw, and his new Craftsman double toothed hacksaw. I was not amused or hopeful, but while he was hooking up the saw, I grabbed the hacksaw, and decided to trim off the branches. Wow! This was an amazing tool! This little saw, sliced through every limb like it was nothing. I'd never before used a double toothed saw, only single,fine toothed blades. This was such a treat!

I started having tons of fun with this little sumbitch! I was slicing through that tree faster than a UN "peacekeeper" in an African village:

moe saw

moe cuts

When we finished chopping the tree and moving it aside, he needed to run to Sumter for some stuff, and offered to buy me supper. Well hell, a free supper I ain't never passed up, and ain't about to start now. So off we go to the sister city. We went straight to Huddle House (Yeah, I'm a Waffle House guy, but Huddle House is a pretty decent substitute) and mosied on inside.

We grabbed our "regular" booth, fired up some Pall Mall's, sipped our tea, ogled the cute waitresses and discussed everything from the mysteries of G-d, to foreign affairs, to why Ben Affleck is considered a star.

Fast forward an hour, and we're finished with our supper. (I had the grilled chicken sammich dinner, with hashbrowns, and a nice ranch dressing salad..and yes moehawk, I salted the hell out of'em!) So, El Bastardo says he needs to run over to the Dollar General across the street, and so we do. As we're walking in, this big ol' fella is standing outside hawking bootleg videos of 'Star Wars 3: Revenge of the Sith'. Six bucks each. Not a bad price, but I am usually wary of street vendors and bootleggers. El Bastardo was interested, and told the fella to hang on til we ran in the Dollar Store and he could get change. Okey doke.

We wander on inside, and I just follow him around, 'cause I ain't got nothing I need to buy. He finally gets all he needs, and as we're on our way to the register, he looks at some toys, wondering if they have something he could buy his cute little niece. Well, as we're standing there looking at the kids toys, this little old lady with her grandchild says (quite loudly) "No sugar, we can't buy you a kike today"

El Bastardo and I look at each other, with the "did we just hear what we thought we heard?" look. Then we hear again: "There's not enough wind today to fly a kike, baby. We'll come back in a few days and buy you a kike". Well, boy howdy! Ain't this an oddity?

He starts snickering at me, as I check to see if I wore my necklace, or had something "Jew-ey" on my person. I usually dress pretty secular aside from holidays and the occasional "lookin' for trouble" moods I get in.

We quickly understood she meant nothing by it, it was simply her way of speaking. 'Walkin' down the skreet, eatin some skrimp, and flyin' a kike'. But nonetheless, El Bastardo was loving it. He began to tease me incessantly. I made a remark to him regarding overcooked beans and the moisture on his back, and we proceeded to the checkout counter. It was there, his bootleg buddy came strutting inside. I wandered on outside to fire up another smoke, and waited on him. He finally comes out, hands me a bootleg copy of 'Episode 3', and we proceed to the car. I then notice a sheriffs deputy sitting out in the parking lot, giving me the hairy eyeball. I think El Bastardo sold me up the river, or down the creek. Either way, I ain't had no paddles. But, all the cop did was look, so I was good to go.

After a brief run into Advance Auto Parts (or maybe it was Autozone), we finally head on home. We load some extra stuff in the trailer, bug bomb it, and fix my tail light, then off I head for home. And that was pretty much my Saturday. Boring, but interesting. Angering, but amusing. But now, y'all know why I've been so light on posting this weekend.

As an aside: The video turned out pretty danged good. I'm still gonna catch it while it's in theatres, but this copy is a fine tide-ya-over.

0 Old Comments:


Click here to visit the Capitalism Web Site!