Monday, September 12, 2011

Chapter 20. Man has it been a while.

So I wake up this morning and walk to the living room. My little dog is by my side and just before I open the door so he can go "do his business" he stops and starts growling. "Funny, he only growls at Nana" I thought. Just then I look over at the couch and sure enough there she is, sunken into my sofa like Jabba the Hut sound asleep.

I guess I should do a little catch up here.

My mother-in-law is still mooching off me but has a new job 90 miles away. She only comes back on her 3 days off. A partial reprieve from her and the BS and at this point I'll take whatever I can. The fact that she was here in itself is not surprising but that she is on the couch is. She still has her room in the basement so why is she up here. As I pick up the dog to take him out the answer becomes crystal clear.

My brother-in-law and his wife (Crack Whore Betty) have finally split up. I know it is sad but inevitable as they just weren't compatible. He was a lazy bum and she was open for business and was rather friendly to a few of the officers when they visited her at her night shift job at the convenient store. One evening she was ranting about something and he questioned some pictures that were on her cell phone. Seems it was her and a few others and no one seemed to have any cloths on. This upset her and she began to slap him. Now, for all his faults I have to admit that he did get a job and was doing OK with it. He is also not one to hit anyone, much less a (I use this loosely) woman. He calls the police to have her removed from the property and they show up. It is at this point that he should have realized the odds were against him as she knows most of the swing shift cops. They look at her with no marks, then him with a bloody lip and bruises starting and ask "What is going on?" She looks at them and says "He hit me." Before he could say "WTF" he was in the cruiser and on his way.

Lesson: Stay away from crazy b!tches!

So he has spent his money on bail and a lawyer and had to move out of his apartment. Player didn't take long to move in with another girl. Sometime between then and now something went south.

I step out onto my front porch and there sits his truck. I now know why the mother-in-law is on the couch. The brother-in-law has her room. And of course he has his kids (from his first girl friend) this weekend.

As I sit here at McDonald's and use their free WiFi I ponder how far I could get on a full tank of gas.

I wonder if the weather in Canada is getting cold yet

Monday, July 18, 2011

Chapter 19. Free at last Free at last

Sorry for the lag in blogging. It's been a busy summer.  Let's see, where was I?

I’m not sure but I think my in-laws can smell cash. It wasn’t long before they were both sniffing around for their cut of the loot. I tried my best to explain that this money was already set aside for damages caused by the trucks/trailers. They just looked at me with a blank stare.“So how much are you keeping?” I was asked.“Uh, all of it.” That didn’t go over well. They stopped talking to me and turned towards the wife in an attempt to find sympathy for their cause. The mother-in-law began to berate me and was livid that I would get money from their trailers. I had to interrupt and inform her that they were never hers and the father-in-law gave up all rights to them when they went back to the bank. They were left in my yard and I did all the work to get them out of here. It was also my yard that needed fixing. They stormed off and continue to this day to mumble incoherently under their breath about me. But that’s O.K.‘Cause I finally got the business out of my life, the father-in-law out of my life, the brother-in-law out of my life and as soon as I can find some rich moron to marry the mother-in-law I’ll move into their mansion and mooch off them for a while but hey, with only the mother-in-law left in my basement how bad could it get?









Yea, I know.


Thursday, June 23, 2011

Chapter 18: The Repo man cometh

I could finally see a light at the end of this pathetic tunnel. Funny thing about light; sometimes it blinds you to reality.
 

I met the repo guy who came to pick up the first two trucks on that crisp autumn morning. I’m 6’ 2” 250 lbs and can hold my own. I called him SIR. He looked like an enforcer for the mob and as he approached me with a friendly smile and clipboard in hand my mother-in-law breezes by me with her mouth a flying. The gentleman’s grin soon disappeared and I could see this turning into a bad episode of Operation Repo.“Ma’am just calm down.” He told her. She went off on him about how he can’t step foot on the property and so on. I was not as friendly to her as he was. I told her to shut up, it is my property and I’m willing to help him load the shit up if need be. Hell, I’ll give him some of the father-in-laws crap that wasn’t getting repossessed. Me and tiny were on friendly terms again and except for the mother-in-laws tirade all went well. I now had half of my yard back and soon another truck and one of the trailers were gone. Things were really looking up. Well, for me at least.
 
After several months of staring at the last two trailers in my front yard I asked the obvious question. When the hell were they going to pick these things up? The mother-in-law said she would call. Soon after she tells me she talked to them and told them that they need to pick them up after they paid her and the father-in-law for storage at a rate of $100 a day X 6 months. I just shook my head and was going to wait for them to show up to get them. Another 6 months go by and now these things are starting to really screw up my yard. I called the company myself and talk to one of their lackeys. I explain that I’m trying to get these things out of my yard and that the Mother-in-law had called a while back for them to come get them. She told me that they have never had any contact with anyone about them and they were wondering where they were located. She then threatened me with legal action for hiding them. That pissed me off and I went on the defensive.
“Ma’am, are you saying you had no idea that they were located at this address.” I asked.“That’s right” she said. I then asked “How do you think I got your number?”“Well sir how would I know that?”“I got it from the letters you sent to this address a year ago informing my in-laws of the pending repossession of property stored at THIS ADDRESS.” The line went silent for a minute. Finally she responded with a polite “We will have them picked up next week sir.” I politely informed her that due to the fact that these two items that were abandoned on my property have caused damage I demand reimbursement for said damages. She told me someone would be in touch and hung up. I thought that went rather well.

   Two days later I got a call from a gentleman whom I can only guess has a Godfather somewhere in his chain of command. He asked if I was de guy whid de trilers to be picked up. I told him I was. He said he needed to verify the address and I told him I needed to verify the reimbursement charges. It started to get a little ugly after that. I was informed that I could get in serious trouble holding these items that were owned by the finance company ransom and was told that demanding money for an item that I had repossessed from me is a crime.“Whoa there Mr. Man, these were never my trailers and they were just dumped on my land.”“It was your clients who failed to retrieve them for a year and they are responsible.”“As a matter of fact, according to the Missouri Highway Patrol, they could be considered abandoned property and I can sell them as scrap aluminum.” This seemed to stump him momentarily. He soon responded with “Someone will be in contact.” This was fast becoming the theme of this little journey.

The friendliest repo man in the world call me next. I have never been unnerved so much by someone 1,000 miles away before but this guy was good. I’m not sure what they paid him but it wasn’t enough. To call him intimidating would be an understatement. After the fear of his wrath speech I began to tell my story. I soon had him feeling my pain. He made me a deal. If I keep them on my land till they sell them he would cut me a check for $1,000 each. Works for me. It took a few weeks and they were gone and I had $2,000 for new topsoil, some grading and a little gravel for my now empty driveway. This day couldn’t get any better……………..and it didn’t

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Chapter 17: A nail in the coffin

Having run out of drivers (apparently you are suppose to pay them) and cost exceeding income the end was in sight. My house was slowly turning into a pathetic excuse for a failing trucking company and I was starting to get calls on my cell phone (the one in the company's name) inquiring about freight loads and truck payments. Being a sympathetic person I decided to start answering them.

Like a cowboy looking down on his horse that just went lame I felt it was my duty to put a bullet in the company head.
__________

Me: “Hello this is B#$%@ Trucking can I help you.”

Customer: “Yes, I was calling to see if you had a truck in the Phoenix area?”

Me: “Yes I do but he won’t be let out of lockup till he sobers up a little.” I can have him there by 6 tonight.”

Customer: Click
__________

Me: “Hello this is B#$%@ Trucking can I help you.”

Customer: “Do you have someone around Dallas?”

Me: “Is this in reference to drugs, prostitution or freight” I need to know so I can direct your call.”

Customer: Click
__________

Me: “B#$%@ Trucking, you call we haul.”

Customer: “What do you have in the Nashville area?”

Me: “I gotta 48’ flat I can have there today.”

Customer: “Great”

Me: “You don’t need him to go through Illinois do you.”

Customer: “Yes, why?”

Me: “ ohh, we may have a problem.” Due to some weird pedophile law thingy he isn’t allowed in Illinois.”“I could send him through Missouri and Iowa.”“No wait he’s still got a warrant in Iowa.”

Customer: Click
__________

Customer: “Hello, do you have a driver in the San Diego area?”

Me: “Sure do but he has a partial load he’s picking up just south of you.”

Customer: “Well I only need room for a 20’ conex.

Me: “I think we can work it out.”  He is picking up 2 20’ conex’s there but I’ll check to see if we can squeeze them all into a single container.” “I think if they are all standing they will fit.”

Customer: “Sir, what cargo is he picking up first?”

Me: “Well, it’s less of a what and more of a who.”

Customer: Click
_____________

Me:  “House of the unholy, Satan speaking.”

Credit company: “Uh yes, is this B#$%@ Trucking”

Me:  “Sure, why not.”

Credit company: “I’m calling about the late payment on a 2003 Volvo.”

Me:  “And?”

Credit company: “We were wondering if you were going to make the payment sir?”

Me:  “Have I made one lately?”

Credit company: “No sir, you haven’t”

Me:  “Well I don’t want to be one to break a trend.”

Credit company: “Sir this is serious.”

Me: “Sirius the satellite radio company?” I can’t afford my trucks, why would I want a satellite radio?” You’re not to bright are you?”

Credit company: Click
____________

Credit company: “Is this Mr. R*&^% B%$#@.”

Me: “How should I know who you are and I think it’s a little unprofessional to make me guess.”

Credit company: “Sir we are going to be forced to take action against this account if payment arrangements cannot be made.”

Me: “Are you telling me you are going to repossess it and take it from my property, forever.”

Credit company: “Yes sir that is a possibility”

Me: “Make it so my good man.” I’ll put a ribbon on it for you.

Credit company: “So sir you are willing to proceed with a voluntary repossession?” 

Me: “Only if you take my mother-in-law as well.” “I’ll help load her.”

Credit company: Click
__________

Cell phone company: Hello, this is T-Blowhole and we are calling in reference to your delinquent account.

Me: “You mean you have an account just for our delinquents?” “Awww, that’s nice.”

Cell phone company:  “No sir, this is about your cell phone service.”

Me:  “I wasn’t aware they needed serviced but OK.”

Cell phone company:  No sir, you misunderstand.”

Me: “No I’m not Ms. Understand but I can page her if you like.”

Cell phone company:  Sir, we are calling for Mr. B#%$@ in reference to his business account.”

Me:  But if you are the cell phone company why do you need his business account?”  “Are you looking into investing in failed businesses and need an example of one?”

Cell phone company:  “Is this Mr. B#%$@?”

Me: “Well since you sound like a woman I’m gonna say…..No?” It’s just a guess though.” Now if you asked if you were Mrs. B#%$@ you may have got me.” “This is fun, let me try.”  “Am I Mr. Trump?”

Cell phone company:  “Sir, if this matter isn’t handled we will be forced to turn off your service.”

Me:  “Awww, how will we talk and play the guess who I am game.”

Cell phone company:  “Please have Mr. B#%$@ call us back when he can.”

Me:  “Well OK, but It may be a little tough since you are shutting his phone off.”  “You guys aren’t very smart are you?”

Cell phone company:  Click.
_____________________

I could finally see a light at the end of this pathetic tunnel. Funny thing about light; sometimes it seems closer that it actually is.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Story time with Aaron

It was 1986 and I was a young airman on my way to save the world. I just had to make one stop first:



I’m in the middle of nowhere Arizona.  It’s hot and dusty and since we had nothing better to do with 24 hours off we decided to go to Mexico.  We were a ragtag group thrown together to work on ending the cold war (yes, I’ll take credit for that).  I got here because I was brave enough to volunteer for a world wide remote assignment.  A glutton for punishment I suppose.  Since I and many of the other volunteers were in an area of the country that we have never had the pleasure of before we decided to venture out and explore the great south west. As any large group will do, we broke down into smaller groups and formed friendships. Anyway, one of our little group of four morons decided we needed to visit south of the boarder.  His quest was to find the El Burrow show.  We pile into a car that I had bought for $300 and off we went.  Now I had never been to Old Mexico before and knew this would be quite the experience, but my traveling buddies were bound and determined to ensure we get locked up in a Mexican jail.  As soon as we enter into the border town I felt as if I had walked into a third world country.  I have since been graced with accommodations in regions of the world that made this place look like Club Med but for my first venture into this realm of sub-living it was quite the eye opener. 

“The first thing we need to do is find a club” one of my compaƱero’s exclaimed.
A taxi cab pulled up and asked us if we needed a ride.  Idiot number 2 spoke up. Screaming “El burrow show.” “Can you take us to the El’ burrow show.”  I’m now shaking my head in disbelief.  Partly because I can’t believe this guy wants to see a chick get it on with a donkey and partly because we are probable the first Americans to actually chase a Mexican taxi away.

After walking for a while we decided to try a new tactic.  The new idea was to find a club and hang out there for a while. Moron number one waved down a taxi and said “take us to where the girls are”.  Hind sight being 20/20 that was probably not the best way to phrase that statement.  We piled into a 1973 LTD and off we went. 

If you have ever been to a border town you know that some areas are at best just O.K. and some are better left to the lower life forms.  We had ventured about 5 miles past the latter.  Stopping abruptly in front of the only building with any resemblance of life the cabbie said, “Girls inside”.  We waved bye to Pablo and stepped out of the cab.  I looked at my fellow gringos and said, “This is a mistake”.  “Let’s just get a drink and check it out” one of them said.  I looked at Mr. Burrow and said, “Don’t even ask about the fucking donkey show”.  A look of disappointment was his only response.

Dark, dank and really eerie is the best way I could describe club kill whitie.  We sat down on the bench in a half rounded booth with one side exposed as if for chairs that the owner could not afford. A waitress of sorts came over and asked us what we wanted to drink.  As she was walking away, 4 of the lovelies ladies the club had to offer came up and pulled the table out from us.  Taking their place between each of us the asked if we could buy them a drink.  This in itself was not what worried me, for I would gladly buy what loosely resembled a woman a drink if it meant sparing my life. It was the big muther phuckers that walked out of the back room and stood by the door that caused me concern.  My friends seemed more interested in their prospective dates. 

I don’t drink, and have no Idea what a beer went for in 1986, but $20 seemed a little high for me.  One look from Sloth at the door and my beauty had her beer.  I leaned over the girl to my right with the rather large stomach and told my sidekick that I felt it was time for us to leave.  He looked back at me and said.  “Dude, I think I can score with this girl.”  As if there was any doubt to the fact.  I then gladly informed him that his girl was with child and I’m questioning the gender of girl number 3.  After coming to their senses we decided it was time to leave.  We need a plan to get out without upsetting the thugs at the door.  Just then Mr. Donkey exclaims “well, I’m broke”.  His girl quietly got up and left.  Like dominos, one by one we all discovered that we had no more cash to spend.  Are girls gone, we walked out without problems and stood outside in the glow of a setting Mexico sun.

It was at this point the realization that we were a good 5 miles inside of enemy territory and no taxi in sight.  Not to mention that hailing a cab would prove to the club onlookers that we indeed still had cash.  We headed off in a northerly direction in hopes of finding the touristy side of town.  Cars without wheels and trash everywhere.  People stopping and staring at these 4 idiots walking around where they obviously shouldn’t be.  We made it two blocks and came out on the same street we originally hailed the taxi at. That fugger took us over 4 ½ miles out of the way to pad the bill.  We were back in somewhat safe territory and back on the prowl………….. 

Friday, April 29, 2011

Chapter 16: How the mighty will fall.

Well the trucking business was going well and when I say well I mean in the crapper fast. The mobile mansion/office had found its way from my house to the local trailer park. The positive is that Nana decided to move with it. Could this be it? Could I have finally arrived at the moment in time I had dreamed of (excluding the Nana in a fiery crash dream.). Like a warrior arising through the smoke after the battle was over I had scars to show but the victory was mine. I stood at the edge of my little kingdom with head held high and chest out as I was once again king.

For those of us who have served this great country we know the old adage that a battle won doesn’t necessarily mean a war won. It was but a few short months later that the business expenditures required trimming and the expense of the trailer lot was the first thing cut. I don’t see it as a total loss as the trailer ended up at my sister-in-laws (the one I get along with) and Nana came back to roost. I kinda see it as a split win. Nana 99% me 1%.

It only took a couple of weeks before the trailer was sold. My sister-in-law and her hubby were so happy to get the news as they had to keep it in their back yard for two weeks. I told them I would gladly trade the trailer for the mother-in-law. No takers there.

About a week later I noticed the trailer was still in the back yard. I asked the obvious question “Why” and was informed that the buyer wouldn’t be able to pick it up for a few weeks and was paying a little extra for it to be stored there. I said “at least you’ll make a little money off the deal”. Nope, the father-in-law saw it a little different. Even though it was stored on the brother-in-laws property he rightly deserved the cash, after all it was his trailer so the storage money was fairly his. As you fine folks now know I am well versed in his ideas of who deserves what when it come to money and family. I felt bad for them but couldn’t help feeling a little guilty pleasure in having someone else feel the pain of the parents’ n-laws). I should have known karma not only hated me but was coming around again for another round of kicking my ass.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Chapter 15: My father-in-laws new ride

So the Pa-n-Law is now sportin’ a ’99 Mustang on my dime.

But it’s O.K because it is just until he gets a new car after all. I mean if you had a free car with no need to pay the insurance on it wouldn’t you rush to find one that requires payments and insurance out of your own pocket?

Yea, me neither.

Now the car isn’t new. It is in good shape mechanically but we had a hail storm that totaled it out and after I bought it back from the insurance company I had very little into it. A new back window and the magnus lift dimples courtesy of the hail and she was back on the road. Since I knew I would never get it back and if I did it would be trashed I told him he could have it for what I paid the insurance company plus the new rear glass, $1,500. He said O.K. but it would take several weeks before he could get the cash together.

We skip ahead in my little story and stick with the Mustang saga. Don’t worry, I will come back.

About a year later he got into a wreck in it. Still hadn’t paid me a dime for it and I was still paying the insurance. The wife called to tell me the news. She was crying and hard to understand but I got the part about he was hit and at the hospital. I tried to calm her down and ask the important questions like is the car O.K. and was it the other persons fault. Somehow that pissed her off. Seems I was showing too little concern for the welfare of him. I tried to assure her that I had no concern for him what so ever but if it was his fault then the other person can sue us as we are the owners and are the ones on the insurance. Come to find out that a little old lady pulled out in front of him and her insurance company was on the hook. A few days later I had the adjuster go to the father-in-laws work (he had finally lost the business and I will go into that lovely story later) to look at the damage. I’m not sure what words were exchanged but I had to call to find out not only how much the damage was but how long to get the check. Come to find out it was sent to the father-in-laws. I asked why and they said he told them to. I then had to ask the obvious. Why the hell do you listen to someone other than the policy holder? I own the car and pay the insurance. They didn’t have a viable answer but did tell me the check was in my name. So the wife calls her dad to find out what’s up. He says he just got the check and wanted to know how much of it we planned on keeping. WTF. I want all of it. Once again, it is MY CAR. That didn’t set well with him.” Well then I want the car fixed.” He said. I politely told him no and I will take my car back now. A few days later I see the car parked in town with a for sale sign in the window. $2,500 OBO. Now how the hell is he going to sell my car without my approval? Once again the wife calls him to find out what is going on. Seems he bought a newer Dodge truck and needs the cash to pay the taxes. After staring at the wife with my best “you can’t be serious” stare she said “let’s just give it to him and be done with it.” Now I’m all for helping family but this is beyond ridiculous. I decided though to take my loss and move on. I asked for one stipulation. If he ever shows up on my land I get to call the PoPo and have him hauled off to the pokey for trespassing. He hasn’t set foot here in quite a while. Victories large or small; take ‘em when you can.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Chapter 14: How could this have not worked

It went down hill rather fast after that point. Drivers that run 4, 5, 6 hours a day past their allowable driving time. Drivers going 300 + miles out of their way to deliver. The father-in-law finally had to drive himself. Times were getting hard. It had been 9 months and the only good news is that the camping trailer found its way from my yard to a trailer park and I usually only had 1 truck in the yard at a time. Then winter came.

I am not a truck driver. I understand though the difficulty in having to drive in adverse conditions and trying to navigate a snow packed mountain trail can have its moments but if you decide to drive a big rig you should have the skill and the guts to drive in bad weather when needed. The father-in-law had eleminated driving in New York , Chicago , LA and a few other places because he didn’t like them. He was fresh out of drivers and the first of the truck repo's had just started. Now he would only run southern routes and no east coast. I told him to drive a bread truck or a school bus. Money was getting tight and he was selling what he could to pay for gas. I tried not to play the “I told you so” game but my God how could this have ever been a good idea. No experience, not wanting to run specific routs, not going above the Mason Dixon and excluding an entire coast and he can’t understand why he wasn’t getting many loads.

I came home one day and his truck was in my yard. The little white Dodge pickup was gone so I figured he went home. I also noticed one of my cars was missing so I assumed the wife took it. I wasn’t sure why as she had a new car and this was my little runaround beater. I walk into the house and the wife said,“Hello”. I stopped and just starred at her.“What’s wrong?” she asked.“Where is the Mustang?” I asked.“Outside in the driveway.” She told me. I told her to call 911 just as the mother-in-law walked up from the basement.“Why are you calling the police?” She asked. I told her someone stole my car.“Nobody stole the car.” She said.“Then where is my car” I asked.  



Did I really need to ask?

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Chapter 13: The start of something good (and sure to fail)

So I now have the mother-in-law staying in my driveway and the father-in-law over everyday to run his trucking empire. Three big rigs sitting in my front yard and more pissed off neighbors living around me than Israel . What was next I pondered?

Well, since my wife works for a real trucking company her help was enlisted. It appears that the in-laws knew nothing of running a company and except for having a CDL the father-in-law had no other experience in this sure fire endeavor. I asked the wife what she was going to get paid for her efforts and she said “I’ll get 10% of the business”.  “My ass” I told her. You will be stuck with 10% of the debt in 6 month time.“If you don’t make a dime from your work that is on you but your name is not going on a single piece of paper for this train wreck.” So the circus began.

The first driver they hired had to pass a rigorous background check. It appeared that with the exception of the drug charges and a few other minor offenses he fit the bill. I told them that I though they had set the bar a little low and I’m sure they could find a better candidate by simply searching the local paper for a list of DUI offenders. Well, at least one truck was on the road. Now the real money is gonna just start rolling in.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Chapter 12: That truckin' bastard.

   In all fairness I knew he had a semi-truck and he used it sometimes to haul his equipment (bulldozers and the like) but he had sold it with everything else he owned except for a little Dodge truck. Using that vast fortune he put a down payment on three big rigs and three flats, all of which were now sitting proudly in my front yard. All that came to mind were Jeff Foxworthy’s “You might be a redneck” jokes. 

  If you have more semi trucks in your front yard than you have licensed drivers in your house, you might be a redneck.

   I looked at the wife and quietly mumbled obscenities under my breath. Then the father-in-law gets out of the truck with a big grin on his face. So proud to be the owner of his own trucking company. I told him I’m giving it 6 month to a year, then he’s watchin’ the repo man haul his life away. He seamed more optimistic about the whole thing. He even bought a 40' camper to use as an office/home for Nana. I thought I might be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I may have a gaggle of trucks in the front yard but Nana now has a job and a new home. Halleluiah.

   I never noticed the new 50 amp outlet that was placed on the side of my house where the gravel ended. That was where the trailer was getting plugged into about an hour later. In one day I went from a little track of land in a country subdivision to a trailer park truck stop (no offense to anyone living in a trailer park truck stop). 


How could this day get any worse. 

Why do I keep saying that knowing good and well that it would.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Chapter 11: A step in the right direction

O.K. Where were we? Oh yea, the brother-in-law has moved out and I’m back to the troll under the stairs.

  Things were going great. She would eat my food, use my electricity and waste my water and out of it I got to listen to a soothing hum of discontent and enjoy the company of a curmudgeon. Time went on and things stayed the same for a couple of months, then one day the mother-in-law made an announcement. She was going into business with the father-in-law (they were divorced and he remarried, but that never seemed to matter much) as he changed careers. I felt so happy for them as times were tough since he unfortunately got his ass fired for being a dumb-ass without a permit. He did have a good side business excavating and digging basements and all of his equipment was paid for. Hell, he even brought in several loads of gravel and made my driveway big enough to park a semi or two. I tried to give helpful advice by telling him to stick with what he knows and don’t go into debt while venturing into a new foray. Apparently I was to dim-witted to understand not only the complexity involved in reaching this decision but how easy it will be for him to make his fortune. I said fine but when you fail, and fail you will, you ain’t moving into my house (I’ve gotten quite good at standing my ground ;-). I still wasn’t sure what his new endeavor was as I didn’t pay to much attention to their ramblings from that point on. I mean why should I, it didn’t involve me at all.

   A few days later the wife said her dad was going to park his truck at our house for a little bit. I didn’t mind this as we had lots of land and his truck wouldn’t take up much space. That’s when I discovered my father-in-laws new business. A trucking company. Suddenly the gravel in the driveway made sense.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Chapter 10: Yo yo, Ya gotta go.

  So the great white rapper returns “home” after a day of spending money on gas, food and booze.  I just had to ask “If you have the money to run around why can’t you pay a little towards bills or better yet towards a down payment on your own place?”  I was really not ready for his answer.  I’m not saying he is the stupidest person I have ever met but until I meet number 1 he will do. His answer went a little something like this. “I ain’t got no muny left.” “I hadz to buy sum new rimz fo my car.”  I look outside and sure as sh!t he was sportin’ 20”  I stayed calm and slowly turned to him and said “You seriously just bought rims and tires and are living, unwanted, in my basement.”  “You need to grow up.”  That’s when the hand came up and from his mouth spewed “I’m a grown azz man and can do what I want.”  I was stumped by that for a second.  He could not be serious. I looked at him and with reserve and through clinched teeth said “A grown man takes care of his family first.”  “A grown man pays his own way.”  “A grown man……….what’s the point?”  “You are as far from being a man as anyone can be.”
  Well not long after that peckerhead and his crack whore wife had found someone stupid enough to hire them and they had secured one of the few apartments in town that didn’t need a background or credit check and I was back down to Nana. Oh happy days are here again.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Chapter 9: A mans home is everyone’s castle.

I walked into my living room one morning. This was a rare event for me as I have become accustomed to holding up in my secure lair (the bedroom). The need for food had brought me to the kitchen. As I stood their in my Underoos, scratching myself and looking to see if the leaches had left any of the 5 boxes of cereal I had just bought the day before, a movement caught my eye. It was way too early for the TGL or Crack Whore Betty to be up. It was barely past noon. The mother-in-law had finally found a job, so it wasn’t her. To tall to be the kids. Wife was still hiding out in the sanctuary. Who the hell was in my living room?

I stepped in and kindly asked,” Before I kill you would you kindly tell me who the hell you are and what the hell you are doing in my house?” I’m no Terminator but at 6’2” and 260 lbs, carving knife in my hand and with what I’m assuming was my best look of hate, I believe I got the young mans attention.” I, uh well I’m waiting for, uh.”

Just then the brother-in-law stepped through the basement door. “Oh yea’ I told him he could come in” my brother-in-law told me. This brought up several new topics of conversation that, by the speed of my brother-in-law heading towards the door, he was trying to avoid. “Hold on there Snoop Dummy Dumbs” I told them both. In all fairness, the friend hadn’t moved an inch since he first spotted me. “I need to know two things.” First: How did he get into my house with the door locked? Second: “Why on Gods green earth do you think you have the right to invite anyone into my house?” “If I remember right, I don’t want you here, much less your deadbeat friends.” The first answer was a little disturbing. “I forgot to lock it last night.” “So all of your loser friends know that my house is an easy target?” Hell, he had probably already hocked half of my crap anyway.

After muttering something and checking to see if his pants are properly hanging off of his ass he and his friend left. I waved and told the nice gentleman I just met to please come see me again because next time I’ll send his ass to the pokey.

I went back into the kitchen and looked through the cereal boxes. Empty. Those two burn a lot of incense and eat a lot of dry cereal. Hum

I went to my bedroom so as to inform the wife in on my little visit. She was shocked, but again asked that she be allowed to handle it. I said O.K. (remember, I’m stupid) but told her that as soon as the happy hooker downstairs leaves today I’m tossing their room. If I find anything I’m calling the sheriff. In hindsight I guess I should have talked in a lower voice as they were staying directly under me and I can only assume that she heard me. 15 minutes later the happy hooker's sister was in my drive and she was hauling ass outside.

This was the first time I had actually seen my basement since they had moved in. I only had the mother-in-law’s suite done so they were stuck with a bare cement basement filled with all of our crap. Back in the corner I noticed how nicely they had taken my sheets and nailed them to the rafters so as to make a room for themselves. The center piece was my wife’s prized Egyptian sheets. Nicely stretched between the two nails hammered through them, it really set the room apart from the rest of the basement. I decided to call the wife down and as I was flipping the mattress to see what I could find she was flipping out about here sheets. “I’m done.” “I want them out now.” “I can’t take any more.” She went on like that for the next half hour. “Welcome to my world” I told her. “They weren’t your sheets” she said. “Damn, if I knew that was what it would take I would have burned the f#ckers and blamed them for it weeks ago.

I found no drugs, but TGL and the girl he loves (and for $25 you can love her to) soon moved out. Now I was back to just the Maw-n-law to deal with.

You know that feeling when gas prices shoot up then go back down some but never as low as before. You are happy it’s cheaper but still pissed it isn’t the way it use to be.  That was me at that moment.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Chapter 8: I drew the line (They just walked around it)

    My wife calls me at work to tell me how sorry she is. I told her that it was probably not a good time to talk to me and I don’t want them in my house. She said that she was in town and would talk to her mom when she got home. Her mom was at the house waiting for the phone company. I asked why the phone company was coming out and the line went dead. My co-worker was standing next to me laughing his ass off. "What is so funny" I asked. He has a step-daughter that is always in trouble with the law and is an old pro at this stuff. "There installing the line for the house arrest box" he said. "No frickin’ way" I said.

   Sure enough, the box on my end table was being hooked to my new phone line. Seems you have to have a landline without caller ID, call waiting and all that so they just told them to put a new line it. The line I ended up paying for (Since it was my house, I get sent the bill). My brother-in-law the great loser (TGL) pulled up in his car with its new 20" rims and tires with Meth-Head Betty by his side. I told the wife that they must have already had the go ahead to move in from Nana 'cause the phone company never moves that fast. They moved in around 7 pm and the system was already up and running.

   TGL just got another job and was off to start his new career in the cement business. That night TGL and Crack Whore Betty were off to a softball game. I called Bull Shit. I asked how she could be out crusin' around and going to a softball game if she was on house arrest and she said that her P/O lets her go to softball games. I asked why he wouldn't let her take her ass to work. That fell upon deaf ears. As they got into the pimp-mobile I told TGL to sell his new rims and tires to get a place to stay. He throws up a hand and says “I'm a grown fucking man”. I guess that was him telling me that no one tells him what to do. I told him a grown fucking man takes care of his responsibilities first and that his career as a professional moocher had just come to an end. In all fairness he was waiting on his dream job. He wants to be the next great white rapper.

   I told the wife and the mother-in-law one more time “NO FRICKING WAY”“I WANT THEM OUT”. I was then promised again by Nana that they would be there just 2 days and when my sister-in-law came back she would let them move in. I called her B.S. out and said “We’ve called her and she said she had no idea what you were talking about.” “She also said she would talk to her husband and he said that he told her that he would take the kids and leave her if they stepped foot on his property.”  Nana had no answer for that but then it seems she didn’t need one. In her mind her waste of a son comes first and as long as she has anything to do about it he will never want for anything.

   When they got home from the ballgame me and Snoop Dummy Dumb had a little chat. “I don’t want you in my house.” “I don’t want you girlfriend in my house” “I’ll be G/D if you throw a fricking arm up at me again.” “My best guess is daddy didn’t spank you enough.” “You have a job, rent a place.” I heard the “ain’t got no money yet” crap so we made a deal. He gets his paycheck and he moves out. The little fucker worked about 3 days that month.

   A week or so after they had moved in the Crack Head Whore decided she would make supper. I'm assuming this was in an attempted to get on my good side. I locked my dog in the garage and ran around the house calling the dogs’ name. “MOLLY, HERE GIRL.” “Has anyone seen Molly?” I looked the crack head in the eye and said “what did you do to my dog”. I looked into the oven and screamed “MOLLY………..NO!!”

   My kids have horrible timing. They came into the living room with the dog, so I took her into my bedroom comforting her the whole way. "It's OK girl I won't let her cook you or sell you for meth."
The psychological warfare had begun.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Chapter 7: The More the Merrier


  So Then, they started a business with no real experience. My house became the center for said business. Every day I have more crap in my yard and my garage. I have Nana invoked business quite hours and laundry that never seems to get from the washer to the dryer. Seriously, how could it now get any worse?

   I found out about the plot by hearing the mother-in-law talking to her son about making room in the basement. I turned towards the direction of the wife and informed her that it ain’t gonna happen.” This isn’t the Sanford ’s arms hotel.” I told her. I was assured that she would put a stop to this right now. Off she went in the direction of the troll’s room.

   About 10 minutes later Nana came up to me with a big smile. A cold chill ran down my back. Her story was that her son, whom we will refer to as The Great Loser or TGL and his Crack Whore Girlfriend or CWG had no money and no place to stay. I said no. No, no, no, no, no, no! The MIL then stormed off only to show back up later and give me a big hug.  I said “Let go of me.”  “The answer is still NO!”  Of with feet a stopmin’ again.  The wife reemerged and assured me that she told her mom no. I went about my business. 10 minutes later Nana was back and gave me a great big hug and said "you're the best son-in-law ever". I told her to get her hands off of me and the answer is still NO! Of she went again. I’m assuming she is going between me and the wife and looking for a weak spot so I figured I better put a stop to this and see the wife.  I asked her what was going on and she said that her mom kept asking and she kept saying that since I said no then the answer was no.  The MIL was hoping that I would think the wife gave her blessing and I would give in.  Unlike her screwed up marriage I actually talk to my wife and I do so without yelling and hitting (Note to my in-laws legal staff: This in no way implies any slander on my part as it does not state that the FIL hit the MIL and I’m sure that door she kept running into was soon padded for her safety.) We both stood our ground.

   While I was at work the vermin moved into my basement. I was promised that they would be there 2 days and when the sister-in-law (not the former psycho one) came back from a business trip she would let them move in. I said "bull sh!t". My wife called her sister and she said she had no idea what her mom was talking about and said she would talk to her husband. She called back and said that he told her that he would take the kids and leave her if they stepped foot on his property. Dammit, why didn't I think of that? I then reiterated my last answer of NO!!!!! Later that evening I noticed a funny looking box on my end table. I asked the wife what it was. She was stumped. A quick call to her mother enlightened us. Apparently, while on house arrest, you have a little box that tells the Po Po you’re being a good little criminal. TGL’s girlfriend was on house arrest and amazingly had everything transferred, within minutes, to my house. I had the wife call back to her mom who reassured us that they had no intentions of moving in until we said it was OK. I then screamed,” IT’S NOT FREAKIN’ OK, I WANT THEM OUT”. I called the probation office and discovered that 3 days prior she had gotten permission to move to my address. I informed them that she failed to get my permission to move in and I will be unplugging the box. I have no idea what their response was to that as I immediately hung up. I do however suspect that the box doesn’t work as I unplugged the fugger every time I found it plugged back up.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Chapter 6: A New Beginning (for the in-laws)


The next few months were as you imagine; fun beyond all belief. I really couldn’t see it getting any worse. I apparently needed to have my eyes checked. Nana and her ex (my father-in-law) decided it was time to go into the trucking business. One couldn’t hold a job to save her life and the other got busted faking workman’s comp and then fired. Gas was high and freight was paying very little. How could this go wrong?

My wife, having some knowledge of the trucking business, tried her best to help. I tried to explain to her that there is no hope for the hopeless and she should just let natural selection take its course. My father-in-law already had a truck and a cattle trailer that was paid for along with a bobcat, dump truck and a bulldozer. He theorized that if he sold all of this stuff he could put down the cash and buy 3 newer trucks and 3 flat trailers. My wife told him to buy one flat trailer and two dry vans (he was already dead set on getting three rigs) as getting all flats would limit him to much less cargo opportunities. I told him to hire someone to drive the truck he owned and continue doing excavation work until he saved up the money to buy a truck for cash. I apparently was a dumb ass with no knowledge of how the hell to run a trucking business and as such served no purpose in his plan.  He just gave her a blank stare and walked off.

I just shut up, sat back and watched the show. Sadly I hadn’t taken into consideration where this show would be taking place. (I know, by now I should have figured this out but for some reason I went into denial until, well….. ) It was in my basement. I came home to find 3 nice shiny red trucks and their respective flat trailers parked in my front yard. I kindly asked the wife, in a calm and reasonable voice, “WHATTHEF#CKISGOINGON”. To which she replied,” They are looking for a place to buy so they can keep them there”. “Who the hell is going to loan him the money for that.”  “He’s hocked his ass for the crap he’s already got.” The wife said nothing. I got a sinking feeling. I politely told her if a dime of MY money goes toward this bullshit we were through. They never got their little plot of land for the business and I was stuck with a trucking company in my home. To show some compassion my mother-in-law gave me her cell phone to use. In all fairness it was paid for by my sister-in-law but since the trucking company just had to get 5 of their own cell phones Nana needed a way to dump the one she had. That was my payment for the whole ordeal.

I still get calls from brokers looking to see if their company has trucks in their area. I tell them that the owner was caught in a male interstate prostitution ring and was also up on charges of cruel and indecent liberties with ovine.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Chapter 5: The troll that lives under the stairs.

Apartment life was not for us. We longed for independence and room for our family and
A few barnyard friends.  Though I remember dreaming of a cabin on the lake my wife assured me that the farm life was my true dream.

We bought our (the wife’s) dream house out in the country on 5 acres and I finally had a basement to make into my man cave. The wife can have her cows and chickens and I’ll have my game room and home theater.  I hadn’t had the luxury of a space of my own since the last time we lived in Missouri and that space had turned into my mother-in-laws storage dump. I felt I had hit the jack pot as I now had not one but 2 spaces for my cars to park and a blank canvas basement to boot. My imagination ran rampant with the possibilities before me.

I just finished the first room with the help of my wife's sister's (the psycho one; she straightened up) husband. Nana came over and gave it thumbs up. I stood there with my jaw on the floor. "What the hell is going on" I asked. My helper/bro-in-law said "sorry dude, you’re taking one for the team".  I stood in the basement as the world moved around me.  Her stuff flowed in and she set up her little place and as I watched it all rush by I felt myself moving in slow motion and them going at light speed finishing up the final touches.  Nana has come home to roost.

As she has aged the only thing that has changed is my gray hair and her growing ability to bitch about anything that is related to me in any way.  The room was about 95% done and with the exception of the crown molding and a cover over the vent in the ceiling I had created the perfect mother-in-law suit without knowing it. After all, it couldn’t be a bedroom without a closet now could it.  Bitch number one was now on the list of things to do.

I cannot recall the exact words I used nor would they be appropriate to post but it roughly translated to “How long is this going to last and why should I build anything else?”.  The wife said “She has no place to go and you can still build your man cave, just with one less room.”  I do remember what I said next.  “B.S.  As soon as I get my next room built I will have another freeloader move in.”  That was 5 years ago and all that has changed in the basement is the amount of crap Nana has acquired while living for free in my basement.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Chapter 4: Coming home.

   So, the sister-in-law had left the home and was living with a friend until her loser father could drive out to pick her up.  With this chapter of my life over we were prepared to move on with our lives and grow our family in relative (all pun intended) sanity and tranquility.  I made sure to move further and further away and me and the MIL got along much better the further apart we were. Several bases and 2 kids later we had come to the end of my military career.

   When I retired I told the wife we could move anywhere in the world she wanted because I've drug her everywhere. Man was that stupid. My first month was living at NANA'S (the MIL's new grand ma’ name) with my wife and 2 kids in a 12 X 10 room in a leaky trailer with bad lighting and poor heat. I had to hear about how she suffered with no A/C so many years ago and that we don't help with the bills. I showed her the check book and all the receipts for gas/electric/groceries. "Don't point you finger at ME!" was the response. I quickly found an apartment and we moved out as soon as we could.  It was a nice little complex with a playground and was so quiet…………..until.

    A few month later Nana decided her renting dollar could be better spent in an apartment rather that an old trailer.  Now I would not argue this fact but I do have to pull out the WTF flag when the only thing she could find suitable was in the same complex we lived in.  Like the toxic mold of a relationship, no matter what you do the Nana keeps coming back.  Nana was looking for a job and I didn't want to support her so I helped and found her one. I myself was looking for employment and found one that paid OK and was just the type of work I wanted. The only problem was it was the same place that Nana worked. I may be dumb (shut up) but I'm not stupid. I told her not to tell anyone that we are related. “But why?”  “Because you are trouble and I want to continue working here” was my first thought but I am a nice guy and just said “It is against policy.”  She bought it even though they had hired family before.  The little white lie worked out to my favor since she got her *ss canned and I had no fallout from it. Well, Nana had burned 1 to many bridges and no one else would hire her.  This of course was not my problem, YET.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

The three little liberals.


                       






                     The three little liberals.

   One day Momma Liberal said to her three non-gender descriptive young people that it was time for them to go out unto the world.  The each looked at one another in fear and panic.  “Mother, oh Mother how will we survive?” They asked.  Do not worry my young ones; I will subsidize the construction of your new homes.  The three little Liberals jumped for joy.  “Yea, Mother will provide for us.” They chanted. So the very next day the first of the three little Liberals ventured out and found a spot on a small hill that would suit him or her just fine. “I will tell Mother that I have found a safe spot to build and plenty of stone to build with.” And took off to tell Mother the great news.

   When Mother heard about the plans the first little Liberal had for a home she shook hear head and said “My little Liberal, I cannot allow you to build there as it may disturb the migration route of the Wolf Butterfly.”  “But do not fret for I have another location for you next to some other Liberals.”  “I will make them share with you their land and give you some of their straw to build your home.” She told the first little Liberal reassuringly.  “But Mother, that area floods and there is no stone to build with.” The little Liberal said.  “But my child, as Mother is it not I that knows what is best?”  “Is it not I that has always taken care of you?”  Is it not I that makes the others share with you?”  “Yes Mother.” The first little liberal said.  So the next day the first little liberal had a home built and then moved right in. That night a heavy rain came and washed all the homes in the valley away.  The first little Liberal was washed away with it.  When the other two little Liberals heard the news they turned to Mother and said “What has happened Mother?” “You said you would take care of us but our sibling is now missing and all the homes are gone in the flood.”  Mother told them both “My children, do you not see that the rich failed to provide proper flood control for that area even when they knew that people where building homes in a known flood plain?”  “Should they have not provided more for them and less for themselves for the betterment of those poor Liberals in the valley?”  The two remaining little Liberals looked at each other and in a sheepish voice said “Yes Mother”.  “Tomorrow you will go out and find your new home and I will make sure you have what you need to be safe.” Mother said while pointing to the second little Liberal. 

   The next day the second little Liberal found a tall tree that was sturdy and has stood for 100 years.  “Surely a home build in the branches of this tree will be a safe place for me to build” Thought the second little Liberal.  “I will go tell Mother the good news.” And off went the second little Liberal.  “Mother, Mother.”  “I have found the perfect place for my home!” exclaimed the second little Liberal.  After explaining what was thought to be the best selection for a home site Mother sat the second little Liberal down and explained “My child,  You cannot build a home in that tree for it is a living thing and we should leave it be.”  “If you build there the tree may die and then we will have one less tree in the world to produce oxygen and it may raise the global temperature.”  “You wouldn’t want that would you?”  “No Mother.”  The second little Liberal said.  “I have a spot for you my child that is perfect.”  “I will take you there tomorrow.”  When tomorrow came the second little Liberal found themselves at the same spot as the first.  “But Mother, is this not the same place that my sibling built and did they not get swept away in the flood?”  “My child, does Mother not know what is best for her children?” “Does Mother not always take care of you?”  “Does Mother not makes the others share with you?”  “Yes Mother.” The second little Liberal said.  Soon the other liberals who survived the flood were back to building with Mothers help. They were carful to recycle the straw that was not washed away and made their homes just the same as before.  Soon after they were finished building toxic mold started to form in the wet straw and they became sick.  The second little Liberal went to Mother and told her about the situation.  “Mother, the home that was made for me is now not safe to live in and I fear my health is declining because of the mold.”  Mother told the second little Liberal “I will make you an appointment with a state doctor and we will have the state health inspector come and inspect your home my child.”  The medical appointment was set for a date three weeks from that point and the second little Liberal went home.  That night the second little Liberal succumbed to an asthma attack and died. 

    The very next day Mother stood outside the home of the second little Liberal and sighed.  It was truly sad that she had lost two little Liberals but was well aware that the population was a concern and that it may very well be for the best as they would no longer place a burden onto the system that she had worked so hard to put into place.  Just then the third little Liberal walked up and said “Mother, I am so sad that my siblings died and I fear the same fate may await me.”  Mother patted the third little Liberal on the head and said “There there my child, I am sure you will be just fine.”  “It is now your turn to move out and Mother has the perfect spot for you.” She said as they stared at the now vacant home of the second little Liberal.  The third little Liberal stood up strong and proud and said “No thank you Mother, I will find my own way.”  “But my child, is it not I that knows what is best?”  “Is it not I that has always taken care of you?”  Is it not I that makes the others share with you?”  “No Mother!” barked the third little Liberal “It is you that places us in harms way.”  “It is you that takes our freedom of choice away.” “It is you that takes from me what I have earned and give to those who gather at your feet looking for a free meal.”  Mother looked at her child in shock and disgust.  “My ungrateful child, you throw in my face the great things I have given you.”  “How will you pay for your home?”  She asked “I will work for the money and build as I can afford it.” The third little Liberal said. “How will you be taken care of when you are sick?” She asked “I will take care of my self and save some money each pay day incase I must see the doctor.” “I will also search for a job that offers me health care and educate myself so I may find better work and a better life.” The third little Liberal said. Mother, now red with anger says “How will you support others who do not have what you have?” Without hesitation the third little Liberal said “I will give to charitable organizations and help those that I fell are truly trying to help themselves.”  “I will not help those that only look for what they can attain with little or no effort.”  Mother threw up her arms and exclaimed “You are not my little Liberal.”  “You are right Mother.” The third little Liberal said.  “I am my own person and need not rely on someone else for my survival.”  “I have learned from the deaths of my siblings that when you live your life as dictated and controlled by Mother you truly live no life at all.” 

And from that point forward the third little Liberal had a name.  Bob was a free man who no longer needed Mother to tell him how to live his life.

Chapter 3: THE GIFT

   First the good news. My MIL didn't stay to long. She lasted about 2 weeks and decided it was time to go back home. Yep, she stayed just long enough to get us in trouble with our neighbors and dump her daughter off with us. She had totally failed as a parent to raise this child and had left it up to us.  A 16 year old with a bad attitude and no desire to achieve anything that didn't involve Bon Bons and a day filled with Montel, Jerry and Opra. It is hard to blame a child for their actions when you know first hand how bad the parenting was but I was learning to and fast.
 
   One day at work I'm sitting at the desk (as Desk Sergeants do) and I see my boss walk in. I said "Hi" and he said "Stand up and give me your weapon, your relived of your post." These are words that I truly thought I would never hear muttered at me. This had to be a bad joke but I was still stunned to say the least and after a few seconds I realized that he was serious. After I'm paraded past everyone and read my rights I look up to see my wife in the other office. "WTF is going on?" I calmly asked. You and your wife are being investigated for assault on a minor. Being a smart a$$ I quickly snipped back "I would never hit a miner." "Besides, I hate small dark places". Not the crowd to start my stand-up career with. There’s not many things more unsettling than being relieved of duty and put in a room to sit while you have no idea of what is going on.
 
    About 20 minutes later my boss came back in and said "you can go back to work". I then asked "And my wife?" He said that I could drive her home. Come to find out that the sister-in-law was yelling and screaming and pushed my wife (the SIL is about 140 lbs heaver) and my wife slapped her. The SIL had a nose that would bleed if you looked at it wrong and two drops hit the porch as she ran off to be with her new found hoodlum friends. The neighbor (the one the MIL pissed off before she left) called her husband who then called my boss. I’m assuming that he did so as it was a 100% chance that I would have gotten the 911 call.   This way my boss could have a patrol head out to my place without my knowledge.  My wife said that they were really nice to her and that it was just a misunderstanding. I told her that her psycho sister just had me walk the gauntlet of humiliation and disgrace and I will have to face them all in 20 min. I got back to work and talked to the investigator. He told me it was all dropped and that my SIL would need to find another place to stay as she is no longer welcome on the installation. I asked what happened and he said he couldn't go into detail. As I walked away I heard him say to his colleague in a voice just loud enough for me to hear "That girl is nuts, I would have slapped her too."
 

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Chapter 2: The move

 
  It was a sunny day, just perfect for a 700 mile trek away from the Ma-in-law. Since being married I had sold my '71 Mach 1, my '78 Trans-Am and my '62 Chevy truck. I now had no kids 2 little dogs and a killer 1990 Taurus station wagon.  I told myself that these sacrifices were what someone who is married does. We move on from the toys of our youth and into a more responsible lifestyle that is both supportive and stable.   I soon realized that I had lied to myself.  Seriously, a Taurus station wagon? What the hell was I thinking.

  We sat in the parking lot of the apartment that my mother-in-law had moved into a few month earlier and the tears flowed like a water fall.   The mother-in-law with her Wal-Mart mascara streaking down her cheek. My wife and the cry/sniffle/cry as she told her mother for the 3,000 time good by. Me with my tears of fear that we would be stuck in this friggin’ parking lot for the rest of my life.  I kept inching forward but with the mother-in-laws head sticking in the passenger window I feared I would decapitate her and be forced to haul her severed head with us to Ohio.  She finally pulled back far enough for me to unleash all 123.453 hp that the 3.0l Taurus had and go flying out of the parking lot and down the road to freedom.  Sweet, sweet freedom. 

   The trip was great and we loved our new base, for the first 6 months. We made new friends and discovered a life of freedom where we didn’t have to worry about the drama we had left behind.  The days were brighter and the nights were quieter.  What could be better than that.  Yes, what indeed.

    I come home for lunch one day and the wife is sitting in the living room waiting for me. "Honey, look who came to visit." “It’s my Mom.” The nervous quirky smile soon left her face as she saw the glare of pure hatred in my eyes. Since I was on patrol I got to stop by my house in the cruiser and grab a quick bite. Being armed with a 9mm gave me a wonderful idea. I could claim that she appeared to be an intruder and with the knife I would place in here cold dead hand I could claim self defense. Just then the wife's sister walked in. Too late, I had a witness.  But then I do have 30 rounds and a drawer full of knives.  Hmmmmmmm

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

How it all started


Chapter 1. The beginning

I met a gal 18 years ago and we got married. She was a college student and I was stationed at a nearby air force base. The first time I met the mother-in-law (to be at the time) she pulled up into my yard unannounced and unloaded her car full of hoodlums. After introducing herself I had this odd, sickening feeling that I would come to know all to well. She was starting the divorce process from my wife's step father and at first I felt sorry for him and was sure he was glad to be unloading this train wreck.  It wasn’t long before I realized that they were two of a kind and both were way off their rockers.  Time went on and eventually we were married.  Though I had an insane new family they were 10 miles away and for most of the time were out of our lives.  Well the divorce of the mother-in-law took a while as they would go back and forth on whether they were going through with it or not. But finally soon after we were married they were not.  This proved to be the first of many incidents and for the first it started with a bang.  The step father-in-law had kicked them out of his place and left them homeless.  Though my wife wanted no part of their insanity she felt the need to house them until my mother-in-law could get “back on her feet”.  Naturally they moved into our little 2 bedroom house. Being young and just married we had a 750 sq ft house with one window A/C unit. It was strategically located in our bedroom window to make the muggy nights bearable. The first cackle from the mother-in-law came on the 2nd night that my new house guest were there. "Why do you get the A/C. Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect your elders." Then her kids (who had to sleep in the small living room) started yelling and laughing and carrying on. I had to get up at 0430 for work and didn't feel like listening to this crap so I kindly yelled for them to shut the hell up. Ma-in-laws secret weapon, the switch blade finger, came out in a blink of an eye. "You don't tell my kids what to do." I raised my hand as a gesture for her to calm down and was hit by the other finger. "Don't point a finger at me young man." I turned and walked into my room. Locked the door and turned the A/C on as cold as I could. After 20 minutes of begging and apologies I finally let the wife back in. She apologized for her mom, but I informed her that the lady and her brood have to go. The next day I put in for orders.