Thinking

Smoked Swiss Cheese Curls are from Satan

Blush

..yea!

Thinking

Old people with handicapped tags should not be allowed to drive during peak hours.

Fight Club

… so I think I mentioned earlier that Weed, Bubba and Spazz were co-existing in the living room with the PS3. What I didn’t mention is that it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

Mind you, it would surprise none who know us if I swore that these three boys :: and Chief included :: were produced from some back hill brother/sister combo. The only thing the makes them NOT is the fact that they have all their teeth and don’t chew tabacco :: not that I know of ::

All morning, Bubba and Spazz have been picking at eachother.. baiting each other.. barbing here barbing there. When Weed and his degenerate friend Kev pop in they take control of the PS3and I whole up in my bedroom to mindless surf the internet.

I’m allowed to. It’s my day off.

Out of nowhere, I hear CRASH, BAM, BOOM and Spazz yelling frantically for me.

I go out to the living room and find Bubba curled up on the floor between the living and dining rooms and Weed pummelling him.

My first thought? Thank GOD they were no where near the 55 galloon fish tank.

Weed is yelling something about Bubba being a pussy and if he hears Bubba say he’s going to beat the shit out of Spazz again he’s going to beat him more.

I’m just watching. It’s a right of passage.

As big as Bubba is… and as easily he could have put Weed through a wall.. he doesn’t know his own strength yet and doesn’t really know what to do with his size.

Sometimes I forget that he’ll only be 14 in two months.

Anyway… Weed moves away from him towards the bathroom and Bubba gets up from the floor sniffling. Weed comes back still running his mouth and I tell him “Point Made”. Meaning, sit your freakin’ ass down or I’ll start pummelling you.

Weed who, let’s face it, was probably methed up :: because really, when isn’t he? :: gets my meaning because he knows that I have no qualms about popping him one goes back to finish what he was going to do in the bathroom.

Spazz starts telling me that Bubba did what I told him to do and look what happened.

Let’s re-wind a bit.

A few weeks ago, Bubba was running his mouth about beating this one up and beating that one up. I told him that if he couldn’t write a check that couldn’t cash, then he needed to keep his mouth shut. It’s one thing to beat up on his 10 year old brother :: that would be Spazz :: but it’s another thing outsided our front door. I told him that there was always going to be somebody bigger and tougher to knock him on his ass and so if he was running it, he’d better be willing to stand behind it.

He had mentioned something about Weed saying he was going to kick his ass and saying mean stuff to him so I told him the next time he does, stand up to him because once he knows he can’t push you around he won’t.

Yea… didn’t quite work out the way I thought it would but there’s time.

I’m not going to pretend that these boys won’t be getting into fist fights. They will and I would prefer them know how to fight then to take it to another level and use things that could really do some serious damage to someone.

After all, they’re minors and I’ll be the one having to foot the bill! ;)

Yep.. That One There Is A Genius

… so my car ran out of gas on Thanksgiving night. No big deal.. it’s in front of the house and I really didn’t have any place to go the last couple of days to worry about it. Plus, we’re basically in walking distance to a gas station so no biggie.

Anyway… this morning I called Chief at the shop and he mentioned that he needed me to make up some signs :: that art degree is really paying off!! :: so I remind him about the gas situation. Unfortunately, we are NOT in walking distance to the craft store!

Since Weed was up and playing PS3 with Bubba and Spazz :: I use “playing” loosely :: Chief told me to have Weed walk to the shop to cover for him and he would take care of the gas situation.

So I do and he reluctantly agrees to go. So I get the empty gas container and put it RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE FRONT DOOR so he wouldn’t forget when he left.

What’s he do?

He opens the door, pushes the gas container out of the way and heads down to the shop.

When I realized he had already left, I called down to the shop and asked him why he didn’t take the gas can.

“Um, you didn’t tell me to”

Dumbass!