Things here are getting hairier and hairier all the time. No, we have not been infested with werewolves. I wish we had. Then it would just be a full moon sort of problem. No, these beasts are out all the time. I like to call them neighbors. Sometimes, they actually act like neighbors.
The latest catastrophe started over fishing poles. Which were borrowed from M to be used by J and my son to go fishing off the pier. They have been catching eels, which, were quite the favored dish of King Henry VIII, but, as he doesn't live here, and no one else likes them, they get tossed back into the water. Anyhoo, the fishing trip over, my son came home, and J went to her home with the demon child. (God, that's so mean. Lord forgive me.) This is the kid who has the box of bones buried in the woods, or at least that's my suspicion. I can't prove it, as I don't have a cadaver dog yet, but I've been checking around.
As J is one of those people who feels the need to tell you her woes over and over and over again, and is constantly in need of assistance, we have all chipped in. And, to give her credit, she has been helping us in return. Or we thought. Today, M sent her son down to J's house to get the fishing poles back so she could take her two sons fishing. J said, "Fuck that! She's not getting them back." Evidently she has decided to hold them hostage in lieu of payment for some such shit*. M is an assertive individual. The poles were hers, were given to J in good faith that they would be returned in good condition, and not held hostage. She promptly trotted down to J's house to give her "what for" and a fairly large piece of her mind. Alas, she was not granted admission, whereupon, she called the LAW.
My son, who had just woken up, said, "What? I've got to get away from here." So, I dropped him off at a friends house. He and J had been keeping company, one might say, off and on for a few months now. I have referred to her affectionately at times as the Butt girl. How he has avoided being put in the demon child's box of bones, I have yet to figure out!
The LAW informed J that, no, you cannot hold fishing poles hostage. Subsequently, they were returned to M. We were informed that we were no longer welcome to put nary a toe on J's property as a result of the morning's events. We were not unduly disturbed by this, as we all live in fear of the demon child anyway.
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I will be moving again, within the next month or two. I have sold my humble abode, and have secured my next home of residence, not too far from where I live now. It is not as roomy as where I live now, but I believe it will suffice for a while.
While I had opted for Mexico, with a trunk load of toilet paper, my son and friends have dissuaded me from that "stoopid idea, got to be the craziest one yet..!" It's just that through my reading I have learned that toilet paper is deemed to be a hot commodity in Mexico.
Why Mexico? Why not?
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While driving my neighbor M to work the other morning, for some absurd reason, I decided to use her car instead of mine. Purely selfish reasoning on my part, actually. We'll use her gas! I also forgot my purse. M had lost her license due to a traffic violation, so, I thought, hell, why not help her out. God knows there have been times when I have needed a friend. I dropped her off, and making my way home in her pale blue 1987 Thunderbird that pulls to the right when you hit the brake, who happened to pass me with the most amazing smile on his face? Why it was a young state trooper.
I thought, WTF? Why is he looking at me? Which is when I noticed the inspection sticker, which said 07 05. Not being a mathematician, I was still able to conclude that it had expired, and then I thought, "Oh shit!" Looking for a road, a lane, somewhere I could possible turn in and hide, I glanced in my rear view mirror, and the little trooper was right there, right behind me, twirly blue lights and all. I pulled to the side of the road. Its a country road, but a shortcut for those working in Newport News and Hampton. He had me pull up in someones lane, and came up to the window and asked for the usual, my "license and registration."
I explained that it wasn't my car. I was driving my friend to work. Seat belt? Well, it doesn't have one on this side, see? Up there by my shoulder? There isn't anything there. No, I don't have my license with me. I left it at home. In my purse. My social security number? Oh, yes, its, 000-00-0004. The inspection sticker? (Now, don't say this if you ever in this situation.) Well, yes, I've been telling her she needs to get it inspected......I just don't understand why she hasn't. I guess with work, and her kids, and trying to make ends meet, and all, she works so hard, you know...(I thought I was being smart.)
"Could you please get out of the car ma'am. Yes, just sit in my vehicle for a minute, while I write out these citations." Oh, look, there's a seat belt thing down there, by the door. I didn't know that was there. It does have a seat belt on this side. Wonder why I never noticed it?"Yes ma'am, you could have used that one." I didn't know it was there! "Ma'am, I'm going to have to have this car towed. Towed? You're going to tow the car? Is there someone you can call to pick you up?" My son? My son. Look, this isn't my car... "Yes, ma'am, but you told me you were aware of the expired sticker, and there was a seat belt that you could use in the car. You pointed it out to me...."
When did state troopers start looking like Opie Taylor, and shrink to 5'6"? When did they start letting 15 year old kids become state troopers? Turns out this is the very same trooper who gave M her citation that caused her to lose her driving privileges. He even asked me about her. What happened to the 6'3" state troopers who were blessed with common sense and at least somewhere in their thirties? The ones you would never even consider popping in the nose and locking in their own trunk?
No offense Opie.
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*my words
The latest catastrophe started over fishing poles. Which were borrowed from M to be used by J and my son to go fishing off the pier. They have been catching eels, which, were quite the favored dish of King Henry VIII, but, as he doesn't live here, and no one else likes them, they get tossed back into the water. Anyhoo, the fishing trip over, my son came home, and J went to her home with the demon child. (God, that's so mean. Lord forgive me.) This is the kid who has the box of bones buried in the woods, or at least that's my suspicion. I can't prove it, as I don't have a cadaver dog yet, but I've been checking around.
As J is one of those people who feels the need to tell you her woes over and over and over again, and is constantly in need of assistance, we have all chipped in. And, to give her credit, she has been helping us in return. Or we thought. Today, M sent her son down to J's house to get the fishing poles back so she could take her two sons fishing. J said, "Fuck that! She's not getting them back." Evidently she has decided to hold them hostage in lieu of payment for some such shit*. M is an assertive individual. The poles were hers, were given to J in good faith that they would be returned in good condition, and not held hostage. She promptly trotted down to J's house to give her "what for" and a fairly large piece of her mind. Alas, she was not granted admission, whereupon, she called the LAW.
My son, who had just woken up, said, "What? I've got to get away from here." So, I dropped him off at a friends house. He and J had been keeping company, one might say, off and on for a few months now. I have referred to her affectionately at times as the Butt girl. How he has avoided being put in the demon child's box of bones, I have yet to figure out!
The LAW informed J that, no, you cannot hold fishing poles hostage. Subsequently, they were returned to M. We were informed that we were no longer welcome to put nary a toe on J's property as a result of the morning's events. We were not unduly disturbed by this, as we all live in fear of the demon child anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I will be moving again, within the next month or two. I have sold my humble abode, and have secured my next home of residence, not too far from where I live now. It is not as roomy as where I live now, but I believe it will suffice for a while.
While I had opted for Mexico, with a trunk load of toilet paper, my son and friends have dissuaded me from that "stoopid idea, got to be the craziest one yet..!" It's just that through my reading I have learned that toilet paper is deemed to be a hot commodity in Mexico.
Why Mexico? Why not?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While driving my neighbor M to work the other morning, for some absurd reason, I decided to use her car instead of mine. Purely selfish reasoning on my part, actually. We'll use her gas! I also forgot my purse. M had lost her license due to a traffic violation, so, I thought, hell, why not help her out. God knows there have been times when I have needed a friend. I dropped her off, and making my way home in her pale blue 1987 Thunderbird that pulls to the right when you hit the brake, who happened to pass me with the most amazing smile on his face? Why it was a young state trooper.
I thought, WTF? Why is he looking at me? Which is when I noticed the inspection sticker, which said 07 05. Not being a mathematician, I was still able to conclude that it had expired, and then I thought, "Oh shit!" Looking for a road, a lane, somewhere I could possible turn in and hide, I glanced in my rear view mirror, and the little trooper was right there, right behind me, twirly blue lights and all. I pulled to the side of the road. Its a country road, but a shortcut for those working in Newport News and Hampton. He had me pull up in someones lane, and came up to the window and asked for the usual, my "license and registration."
I explained that it wasn't my car. I was driving my friend to work. Seat belt? Well, it doesn't have one on this side, see? Up there by my shoulder? There isn't anything there. No, I don't have my license with me. I left it at home. In my purse. My social security number? Oh, yes, its, 000-00-0004. The inspection sticker? (Now, don't say this if you ever in this situation.) Well, yes, I've been telling her she needs to get it inspected......I just don't understand why she hasn't. I guess with work, and her kids, and trying to make ends meet, and all, she works so hard, you know...(I thought I was being smart.)
"Could you please get out of the car ma'am. Yes, just sit in my vehicle for a minute, while I write out these citations." Oh, look, there's a seat belt thing down there, by the door. I didn't know that was there. It does have a seat belt on this side. Wonder why I never noticed it?"Yes ma'am, you could have used that one." I didn't know it was there! "Ma'am, I'm going to have to have this car towed. Towed? You're going to tow the car? Is there someone you can call to pick you up?" My son? My son. Look, this isn't my car... "Yes, ma'am, but you told me you were aware of the expired sticker, and there was a seat belt that you could use in the car. You pointed it out to me...."
When did state troopers start looking like Opie Taylor, and shrink to 5'6"? When did they start letting 15 year old kids become state troopers? Turns out this is the very same trooper who gave M her citation that caused her to lose her driving privileges. He even asked me about her. What happened to the 6'3" state troopers who were blessed with common sense and at least somewhere in their thirties? The ones you would never even consider popping in the nose and locking in their own trunk?
No offense Opie.*my words
13 comments:
Great stories and great post as always.
Opie, Opie, Opie - - get a life!
I wouldn't mind seeing some werewolves myself to liven up things...
So new house would mean new neighbors? Let's see if they are as inspiring as the current crop you have.
HOLY CRAP! I've been wondering what you've been up to.
Love that werewolf pic. Your new home looks cosy. Could use a front door though. Did I miss something. Has your son broken off with butt girl? Did you get arrested?
Just Me: You are so lucky to have been banned from the property. Now you have a great excuse not to go there for any reason
State troopers and common sense. The younger generation seems to have lost all common sense.
Well done mamma, I'd surely move too, just to distance my kid from that Butt-girl. (She's Nasty.)
Trust you to get a citation helping out a hapless soul - sometimes I begin to question karma, don't you? Hang on in there hon, in the end the good always triumphs over the bad (even if you need help it along sometimes by adding hell-boy's bones to his collection in the woods). Wink.
I hope your new neighbors will be better. Stinks about the car.
No, Babzy, I didn't get arrested. I did ask him why he didn't just shoot me, but he said things weren't that bad...yes, I will need a new door, and Lowes will have to special order one, I can see that right now...I think Butt-girl is history!! Maybe...
Moose: Bravo! Bravo!
Anne, SJ, I will have the same neighbors, basically, not just so close.
Shrink, I brought the whole thing on myself. Remember, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say may be used against you...
Stephen, Good to see you. Problem is, Opie's got a life. (He hangs out with Tom Hanks these days, I hear.) This state trooper just terrorizes little old ladies in Thunderbirds.
Hi Deb,
Wonderful use of images - my favourite is the cardboard box.
Love the post. Trooper needed a sense of humour, though.
Keep smiling
David
Oh, Deb, don't keep us in suspense! What did Opie do? Give you a warning, citation, what? Did he give a ticket to "butt girl." This is the same person who owns the car, right?
We must have the same type of cops here..I've been stopped 4 times..only warnings..last time 4 patrol cars surrounded me..thought I was someone else, apparently...can any say ....HARRASSMENT????
Thanks, David. Consider yourself invited to my housewarming party. Maybe you can bring a door?
No: It was M's car, the fishing pole owner. Yes, I was cited for not wearing a seat belt, and driving a car without a current inspection sticker. I should have popped him in the mouth, locked him in the truck, and pleaded insanity. God knows, there is enough people who swear in court that it is indeed a fact...
No good deed goes unpunished....
Hmmmmmm, should have asked him if he wanted to go fishing ... man sorry about this. Try to do good for someone and this is what you get.
Is she speaking to you now that her car has been impounded? I'm reasonably certain you will get the blame for that.
But a great post and pics, as usual.
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