Sunday, December 12, 2010

Maybe Later

I'm sure I should rant about some fucking thing, I had an interesting day yesterday, helping my niece move.
I can tell ya one thing for sure, I'm getting old.
I did a lot of pointing.
Actually that wasn't a bad thing, they had this big box van damn near loaded when I pointed out they hadn't loaded the washer and dryer or the fridge.
Hey, sometimes it pays to stand around and drink beer.Someone has to pay attention to details.

Not such a bad thing after all.

One of my brothers has an office furniture business, they do all kinds of shit, moving peoples stuff is high on that list.
It was his daughter that we were moving, a half mile to my parents place. They are heading South for a few months.
Of  course it poured fucking rain all damn day.
My nieces new husband  was all over it, my other brother was there, he is a big dude, I really didn't do too much, for once I didn't kill my lower back. We put a bunch of stuff in a warehouse, it went like clock work.

After all that my brother C., took us out to breakfast in downtown SE Portland.
Some place called My Fathers Place.

OMG, a real working mans joint, lot's of young folks hang out there too. $6.75 for Chicken fried stealk same price for Ham, mushrooms, all scrambled up in eggs, steak and eggs too.
What a great place.
Of course, lot's of whiskey and cokes and Bloody Mary's involved too.

I surprised the GF and drove up here last night in the dark the pouring rain, got here dang near midnight.

I know I had something else to say but I'll be damned if I can remeber what it was right this second.

Time for breakfast.

BTW, this caramel coffe stuff is the shit.

Thanks fer stopping by.


  1. *waving to ng*

    tell her i said to fatten ya up some dood

  2. Nothing like a good dqay "supervising" and helping...then finding a place with a working man's menu to help get through the day!

    Doesn't get too much better! Glad your GF made it up!

  3. I know the feeling. See you on Sunday.

  4. I'd be glad to go to breakfast with you at that joint. Let 'er rip, I'm a great designated driver.

    When we used to get the members of my motorcycle club together for any kind of work party, the rule was ONE beer and the rest of the beer got broken out after the work was done. We found that if we did it any other way everybody turned into supervisors. Heh.