The next several days here are going to be, I believe the proper meteorological term is 'damn fucking hot.' Ugh. I froze my balls off last night in bed. Left my window open, and it got down to 49. I snuggled under quilts, and loved it. I have this dumb idea you can store up on the temperature you want, when it comes around.
Today, I blew some blood out of my nose into a kleenex. I showed everybody by waving it around, then I asked "Who wants a Raspberry Fruit Roll-up?!" I got to takers, and a couple of gaggers. I chased screaming kids around with it, but when I went to wipe it on the wife, she stuck her hand into the knife drawer and gave me a meaningful look. I backed off.
Hey, anybody see Geraldo get his bell rung by a piece of flying debris last night on Fox News? Now that's entertainment. I have no sympathy for the residents there. You wanna sit in a bar and party while the wind tosses around pilings like Tinkertoys? Fine. Die. And I wouldn't expend one penny to rescue your dumb ass, either. I've done plenty of crazy stuff in my life, but I've never done stupid.
I look at the area covered (affected) by Ike, and I can only say sonuvabitch. Where do you run to? I mean, it's gonna affect Chicago, for pity's sake.
I would buy cigarettes and chew, and sell it to the emergency personnel, and the National Guard. No mark-up. I'd sell beer, and half-pints of whiskey. They'd all love me forever.
Well, as usual, nothing else is happening in the world as long as this storm bullshit is going on. Or the stupid train. I mean, how many times can that damn train crash? And how many times do we need to see the same pile of rubble on the Galveston shoreline? And you've seen one flood, you've seen them all. Give it a rest, guys.
Speaking of getting tired of stuff, I have handed out about a million warnings for bad behavior to the kids. And time-outs, and early bedtimes, and they have just been little assholes lately, anyway.
I hate to use the belt. It makes me feel bad. But they were totally out of hand. Major violations like throwing things in the house. Constant arguing with everything the wife and I said. So Nat was sitting at the top of the stairs with John, and she wouldn't move to let me downstairs, explaining to me that there was plenty of room to get by. So I passed by a sluggish Johnny, and as I got in front of her, I stomped her foot and when she leaned forward, I gave her a good hard slap to the side of her jaw which I am sure made her see birdies. John scooted back out of the way as fast as he could.
I explained to them both that I was tired of being nice, and talking, and this was going to happen every time they pissed me off or were disrespectful to their mother, from now on. They were both remarkably well-behaved for the rest of the afternoon.