Saturday, October 17, 2009

Hat trick.3rd lousy day in a row.

Uggh!

Misty day, terrible and I wish to hell I was somewhere else.

Outer Slobivia, Middle of Nowhere, Bumfuck,Egypt or ever a 3rd world place like East Muleshoe, Texas.

God, I hate weather like this.

I hope to hell my sister doesn't call me and tell me how wonderful the weather is down in Florida or I'll scream.

Not much of a post today.



It's later.

Had breakfast with Mrs Piccolo today, and I'll be screwed, blued, and tattooed if she didn't say one damned single word about cholesterol, fat, health, or for that matter, ANYTHING about the fact that I had sausage, eggs and home fries.

This is somewhat fearful, or maybe she is starting to learn. Who knows?

Makes me wish I had ordered what I really wanted. It's been an awful long time since I've had biscuits and gravy.



A couple of days ago, Neighbor Bob told me his wife wasn't feeling too good, so I whipped up a Hot Buttered Rum for her, When I found the rum bottle, left over since last Christmas, there was only 2 snorts in it. I made one for Bob's spouse and put the jug on the counter. It was a 1/2 gallon.

Last night, Antoine dropped by and started in on my liter of Jim Beam, which is fine. The jug was far from full, and Antoine killed it. He's more than welcome to it for all the shit he's done around here and I'm glad to enjoy his company. I joined Antoine by killing the last drink out of the rum bottle. I made myself a hot buttered rum.

Now, I have been a pretty good boy this time home, but I'm going to have to find a way to ditch the bottles because Mrs Piccolo comes by a couple of times a day when I'm gone, and if she finds the bottles, she's going to raise cain and accuse me of guzzling a half gallon and an entire liter in 5 days.

Last year a similar thing happened and I went around and collected about 4 dozen hard liquor bottles from the local bars and put them in the recycleables. Of course, I was accused of drinking 48 bottles in 12 days. Do the math, I'd have been DEAD.

It's a pain in the ass, but ditching the bottles is a whole lot easier than explaining something to someone that has a hard time counting.

World without end, Amen.


From the Gospel According to Piccolo.

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