The Fur Is Going To Fly

Shit happens, life ain't static, even though I have been laying on my ass all fucking day.

I have more shit coming down the tube pointed right at me than a mere rain slicker is going to handle.


My parents are getting ready to head down South to Yuma Arizona or some fucking place where it ain't currently raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock, like it has been here all day.

That means I basically have to move, in a limited sense.

While they are gone, I got elected, again, to go house sit for them and keep an eye out on one of my 95 year old Grannies.

It got a little tense last year, after three months, I needed to get the fuck out of there before I went nutso.
This year is going to be different.
I have other family around who are going to be getting phone calls once in a while so they can come spell me for a weekend.

In other news,my neighbor, who has been telling me he is going to move since September now announces that he will be pulling out on the 8th.

I want to move this piece of shit trailer over where he is because he has a ready made raised bed garden I want to go crazy in.

All fine and dandy.
Except he still has his original trailer parked behind the newer fifth wheel he is moving into and he has no fucking title to the sonofabitch and is going to have to demolish it before I can move mine, in January.

Right.

We shall see.
I am not looking forward to moving my portable Rat Hole, even if it is only twenty feet sideways.
This fucking thing is packed solid because it is only twenty six feet long.
Hook it up to a truck and give it a jerk and listen to the shit hit the floor.

Then I will have to hook everything back up after disconnecting it in the first place, clean up and throw away any broken shit and THEN, have to move all my shit out of the storage shed over to the one he has.

Yay.

In the rain, in January, while trying to keep my job and looking after Granny.
This place is a complete disaster inside right now as it is, I guess a good shuffle won't hurt anything.


I also get to look forward to having to snag and bag a couple of fucking cats to haul over to my parents.

At least this time I have a cat carrier, I might not have to lose a cat for two fucking months again, maybe, we shall see.
God has a wicked sense of humor and I am on speed dial when he gets bored.

So, look forward to some world class sniveling here in the future and count your fucking blessings.

Now then, back to that bottle of Gatorade I mentioned earlier.