(Note: This crap has been edited to the best of my abilities. 05/22/2006)
Every once in awhile, I understand why a man needs to get wasted. This weekend, I badly wanted to get wasted. I came home from work Friday and found out my kitchen window had been busted out again. I don’t know if I mentioned it here or not, but about a month ago, the same damn shit happened. The first time they busted out the top pane. This time they broke through the bottom pane. Both times they busted through the inside and outside windows. Neither time did they come away with anything, outside of my contempt.
I called the police both times, and they didn’t come out either time. Last time, maintenance came right out to fix my window. This time, possibly because it was the weekend, no one came. So, I had to spend the entire weekend mostly alone, with a big ass hole in my window. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep.
Luckily, I still have people who care about me enough that made the weekend far less difficult than it could have been. An old fried of mine, who happens to be a woman, came by Saturday to spend the night with me. She was supposedly there to help me keep a watch out, and for awhile she was pretty helpful. I got a couple of hours of sleep during Saturday Night Live with Julia Louis Dreyfus, but I soon woke up during Showtime at the Apollo. I didn’t know that show was still on the air.
When I awoke, I found my friend pretty wasted. She had slurped down a bottle of Gin and was talking like a loud drunk to a friend of hers over the phone. I suffered through her conversation about some incident where she told off some dude she was dating. I couldn’t follow the entire conversation because she was talking in encoded drunk talk, half her words slurred, and the ones that weren’t consisted of “If he EVER did..” and “I’d kill a mutha…” Needless to say, I wanted to poke out my eardrums after five minutes of being forced to listen to that shit.
When she finally got off the phone, I suffered through her farting and burping. I know she’s cute, but still, that shit ain’t even cool when you’re cute.
And then she had to use the bathroom a couple of times, and for some reason she never closed the door. So, I heard her doodie sounds, and the smell reached the front room quicker than it would have if she had only closed the damn door.
By three, she looked like hell. I almost didn’t want to touch her… Almost. Only thing that stopped me was her falling asleep while I worked my magic. And that really didn’t stop me completely, except when she started snooring real loud. And her breathe was kind of funky. Plus, she kept farting. How the hell do you fart in your sleep? I honestly don’t know, but she kept doing it. So, eventually, I had to leave the front, where we were, and take periodic breaks from her stinch in my room. The only reason I kept coming back out was because of the broken window. I doubt if she would have heard anything if something happened.
She eventually woke up around noon and left. I was sort of glad because my place was smelling like liquor and ass, and if you ever smelled liquor and ass together, you’d know the combination don’t smell all that nice. So, I was actually looking forward to when she left. I needed a break. But I didn’t get one, because my mother brought my grandmother by an hour later.
To understand why I can’t spend more than an hour with the two of them, I think I need to explain how my mother and grandmother interact with one another. My grandmother has reverted to a childlike state. She behaves like a three-year-old, an old, depressed, three-year-old. So, a conversation between my mother and grandmother consists of my grandmother whining and mumbling about some bullshit under her breathe, and my mother either ignoring her or screaming at her, which I can understand because if you don’t react to what my grandmother right that second, she’ll try to do crap herself. And no one wants her doing crap by herself. She might end up face first on the floor.
And whenever my mother sees my grandmother trying to do something crazy like trying get up by herself, she starts yelling really loud. So an entire conversation between the two consists of mumbling and yelling, which gets really old after five minutes. So, I was looking forward to them leaving when they first walked through the door. Only thing is they didn’t leave right away. My mother ended up playing, “What’s that smell?” for about an hour, sniffing her way around my place, telling me what funky thing she think it smelled like. She finally rested on bleach and mildew.
Only after a couple of hours of annoying me and fuckin’ up half the dishes I had just washed did they finally leave. And I was glad to see them go, at least for awhile. Then, I got scared again. So, I ended up staying awake until about one in the morning when I couldn’t stay awake any longer. Only problem is that I woke up three and a half hours later. I haven’t been asleep since then. And man, am I tired. I wanna take a nap right now. In fact, I’ve been taking little two second naps as I’ve been typing this up. So, I don’t know how it reads. All I know is this whole shit could be paragraphs full of gibberish. That’s how messed up I am.
