Just finished BSG. And my weekly Sci-Fi Channel fest. Wow.
Listening to ICP very muted. Don't need a pan to the skull. The kids and the wife are down. John put himself to bed. Says 'fuck this!' about the first monster on Dr Who, while Nat was crowing that the alien looked like 'a boiled Mister Potatohead!' Oh, what I have wrought.
Hey, society, no need to thank me. Better watch your sons, though. She's beautiful, will get more beautiful (if my oldest daughter is any indication) and damn, she strikes like a snake. I avoid her easily, of course, but I can see the stitches on a fastball.
She is going to be formidable when she comes of age and size. If I'm alive, I'll teach her a few things. If I'm dead, the wife will teach her what I have taught her.
Shit, how did it become Saturday? Where was I? Dammit! I am just enjoying a semi-cool breeze from my window fan. It hit 100 today. And the wife had a girlfriend over, putting in a pocket garden in our back yard. Hick bitch brought compost and steer shit with her, buckets of it, so I sat around all evening while the wife was at some religious shindig, sniffing my armpits, and checking my shorts, and wondering 'what the fuck?' I accused both kids of shitting themselves, and made them go attempt to shit, and check their shorts, and then I passed by the window and that rich barnyard smell flooded into my sinuses.
Oh. Sorry kids. Haven't broken the wife's balls yet over it. Tomorrow will come soon enough. We already get plenty of tomatoes from the plants we've got, and I don't want to smell shit all summer. I don't care how good fresh vegetables taste, I can go to the store, and not have to smell shit and rotting compost.
Sorry to be all over the road here, folks. Shit, 12:17 am? Crap. Time for a shot, chase with water, and a couple of Sour Skittles...okay, back...
My inner rage came up tonight, but I was able to stuff it. Well, extinguish it. I am surrounded by so much of what appears to be love, that it is like fire retardant on a gas fire.
I don't think I'm mellowing, but I am changing. The wife's friend watched me, this afternoon, doing sticky hands with Nat, and training John in balance (by essentially knocking him over if he allowed it) and when I met her, I shook her hand, and it was sweaty, and I wiped my hand off on the wife's tank top while she futilely tried to stop me, and the woman's eyes grew...well, a bit wide. And thoughtful.
Whatevah...12:28am...I'm beat. Enjoy your Saturday. Sorry to afflict you with such disjointed shit.