Date registered: Aug 2002
Mentioned: 6 Post(s)
Quoted: 1761 Post(s)
So I wake up and stumble into the office and check the real immediate shit. Fine. So I go downstairs to the gym and crank the treadmill while bumping the steam room to the usual 30 minutes. It no worky. So I spend the next hour trying to get steam. No bueno. Call my yard/maintenance guy and he comes over (he is hispanic, all legal, all honest, all intelligent, and the next time I hear someone bad mouth a hispanic or go on ignorantly about immigration I'm gonna cap the fucker right then and there). He short term fixes it, but I must look, find and order part online. Monday of course cause most shit is closed.
Now, as I walk in front of the guest house I notice two chairs missing on the front porch. Stolen. MF's! Two antique Ethan Allen chairs I got from my grandmother! Fucking pisses me off! Fuckers! I check the outside border walls to the property and no snow is missing, nor tracks in the pathways. They had to use either the main front entrance or even worse they knew the code to the motor gate. So I call the gate co. to change the code and this time let me watch so I will know how change the fucker next time.
Fine. Mom calls and her Cadillac transmission is going weird and she takes it to some major bullshit artist transmission chain against my will and bam! It is all in pieces, they cannot get all the electronics to work, and they want three times the intial estimate to just get the fucker to move. All this on a car that was still functioning properly! M'kay. Rip the asshole transmission dude a new one on the tele., and send a friend in Dallas by to do same and check status of car in person. All this over a fucking car.
Anyway, today is the day to go to the International New Car Show in Albuquerque. We go and on the way in four wanna be hoodlums start mumbling that we are yuppies by the way we are dressed. That pisses me off as we are gays first and foremost you breeder moron, no college level, knuckle dragging, Caesar Chavez snorting, morons. Fucking dirt bags! So we see the new shit and go to Zinc restauruant as suggested. Well we are surrounded by fags and metrosexuals galore and tire of the place soon. On the way home on the interstate a dude in an innocuous SUV is hogging the left lane. Two Super Duty Fords go around him, a Cherokee goes around him, and then I go around him. He gives the finger to me. I cut over to the shoulder and drive thru the red gravel that was placed yesterday for the snowy roads. After it pelts his car he backs off.
So I then go to Whole Foods and Plugger runs in to get himself some milk. As we back out the androgynous thing in a black bimmer convertible comes wizzing in and gets offended that I continue to back since indeed I was backing long before it was even in sight. It stops directly behind the SRX so I just gun it and slam the brakes when the reverse sensors scream their last warning. It has a bizarre look upon its face. I drive off and toot the horn and wave.
I am back home now. I have all the outside lights on and every gate and window and door locked. I have my Berreta positioned out the best vantage window to the guest house. Maybe I will get myself some tonight. Fuckers.