"But they had a French name. It gave them a certain Je ne sais quoi, a certain savoir faire, a certain d�tante. A certain... cul-de-sac, a certain... Jacques Chirac. A certain... pomme de terre. A certain vie de la Dordogne. Fuck it".
Well. About time I updated, ey?
The weekend was okay. As far as, it sucks now cuz it�s over and just goes by way too fast, but it was a good weekend.
Saturday I went up and fetched my darling Beavis from Boy Scout camp. His troop won the �Most Scout Spirit� award based on their mischievous week. The last night of camp, someone from another troop stole all the flags from the camp except Beavis�s troop�s. Thereby, framing his troop for the theft. Well, their troop was looking at being in serious trouble for it, and the kids who did fessed up and apologized to Beavis�s troop. Beavis�s troop? Said it was an awesome prank and they loved it. I thought it was pretty funny, too.
Saturday night, Robert and Rhonda called us up and invited us out to a party they were at out in Litchfield. This dude Chuckie has a great place out there, nice huge back yard, at the end of a cul-de-sac (huh huh I said sack huh huh huh huh). And a pool too. So he has this huge bash every summer, and Saturday was it. So, we went there meaning to only go for a couple of hours but stayed longer. We had to go home due to Beavis being home, he was sleeping when we left, and he wanted to show us his new fire-starting skills that he learned at camp. So I went home, shitty as all hell (I was shitty when we left for there), and cooked up a big supper.
Yesterday was a wasted day. We did nothing. I needed it. I even took a nap. Now, if I could have 7 of those days in a row, I�d be set.
Today is welcome back to suckage. Us not working folks suffer from these, too.
It started with Dick. First of all, he called me yesterday morning on my cell, which was dead so it went right to voice mail. To say he was ready to see the kids at church. Oh isn�t that funny. Because the last two times I took the kids to church, his ass never showed so I decided I wasn�t going to further disappoint the kids unless I knew 100% for sure he�d be there. So he called my dead cell, less than an hour before church.
He finally called the land line at 9:40, which would be when I was in the shower.
Anyway, so he didn�t see the kids at church, which, whatever. He never called back again yesterday.
First thing this morning he called. I explained everything to him and he wasn�t pissed about that. But, it seems, and I already knew of this situation from Rhonda, as though Rhonda and Dick�s boss, �Bill�, who lives right down the street from Robert and Rhonda, are involved in this big, huge white trash drama, complete with restraining orders and everything. It�s too retarded to even go into very much here.
Anyway, fucking Dick starts dictating to me that he doesn�t want the kids around Rhonda at all. That�s it, don�t ask no questions, just don�t have the kids around her, period.
Excuse me? EXCUSE ME?
Loser, don�t fucking tell me who I can and cannot have the kids around. Rhonda hasn�t ever done anything wrong to my kids. Just because you have a problem with her, don�t go dictating me around. Fuck you.
I told him, I don�t appreciate this at all, she�s never done anything wrong to the kids and that the entire situation with his boss doesn�t involve my kids. I also told him that even if Rhonda is wrong in said situation, the things I hear about his boss aren�t so great, either, especially him stalking her house all the time looking for wrongdoings. And that shut him up.
But he goes into, �I don�t drink around the kids, I don�t do drugs around them, I don�t smoke cigarettes around them and I don�t even swear around them�. Good for you. That�s easily done, when you don�t see them for three years, and just as easy when you see them for what, two hours a week? If that? Give me a break.
Just wait for the day when he tries to tell me not to drink around the kids. I�ve got these kids 24/7 with zero relief, so don�t dictate to me, motherfucker.
Ugh. Then Hub came home (because of the fucking RAIN, yey) and tried to call a customer that has an outstanding balance of $2115.00 from a clean up done back in April. This is a guy, Howard, that he met through his business networking group. Howard is in life insurance and is a managing partner with the company. Well, Hub did the clean up back in April and the next week, Howard gave Hub a check for $1000 and said he�d pay the rest soon. Never once mentioned that he was unhappy with the work or had any issue with the bill.
They never paid. Hub was doing their lawn mowing, but Howard told him in June that his wife wanted to do the mowing. Great, how about the rest of the money? Talk to my wife.
So, they played fuck-fuck via phone until a few weeks ago, when Hub got a hold of Howard�s wife (for the sake of the story, let�s give her a name, how about�.um�BITCH? Yeah) and she claimed that the work was poor and a bunch of things didn�t get done. Like hedge trimming and thatching the lawn.
Okay, so you bring this up three months later? When it�s been raining, hot, and a very good season for growth. Meaning, hi, how can anyone tell now what was done and what wasn�t? No. So now let�s claim that it wasn�t done so we can fuck you out of the money we owe you.
Meanwhile, through all of this, Howard�s company is who we went through for our life insurance, based on the so-called amicable relationship between Howard and Hub. So we thought.
So, Hub was going to be a sport and take some money off the bill, at least so he could recover something. So, he called BITCH this am to discuss it. She thought it would be nice to argue and argue with him and then finally say they aren�t paying. Anything. That�s it.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
So. Hub decided, for a $2000 rip-off, you can take your life insurance and stick it up your ass. So he called Nate, our agent, and said forget it. Cancel our policy. And happened to share what Howard did to him.
Well, wouldn�t you know, Howard called Hub right after he got off the phone with Nate. (Suddenly, he can be reached without effort). Asked Hub, �What kind of a game are you playing?�. Hello? I believe that you losing a $70 monthly premium might not hurt as much as our teeny little company losing $2000 will. What kind of game? Honestly. Give me a break. What do you call your game? Fuck the landscaper?
People suck!
Anyway, that Nate is annoying anyway. He�s 22, fresh out of college and still using scripted fucking customer service conversations that he learned in college. I learned mine at Fidelity Investments, only they taught us how to do it without sounding fake. I�m sorry, but if you need to call me for some reason, just jump to it. Don�t ask me about the weather, or Father�s Day, or the weekend, and then throw in your little cut and paste conversation pieces like, �Well, that�s really important�. Get to the point, because I hate talking on the fucking phone enough as it is.
I mean I know Nate had nothing to do with this, but I�m venting.
Anyway, we will be taking them to small claims court. Howard and Bitch, that is. I�m a little leery of going to court, since every time we go, we end up getting fucked, but Hub has spoken to other business owners who have had good luck. And I guess that they�re paying the $1000 was acknowledgement that they owe a bill to us and they think the judge will side with the business owner first, anyway. So, we�ll see. What do we have to lose? $52 to file and we�re already out the $2000, so why not try it?
Besides, if they don�t pay upon a judge�s order to do so, we can just take them back to court for a show cause hearing, where it could get ugly. For them. That�s when judges start looking at jail time for non-payment.
I know, because I was on the other side of a small claims lawsuit with our old landlord. Bob. Bob Pieceofshit. There�s another story for another time, but let�s just say that man fucked me right up the ass, sans lube. And, when he won a lawsuit against us for damages that were in the apartment when I moved in, we cried poverty and made a payment arrangement through the court. Bob objected at first, but had to deal with it because our financial situation on paper sucked at the time. That was two and a half years ago. We just made the final payment the other day. But, had we been late or not paid, he could have taken us to court for a show cause hearing. And that shit went on my credit. (oh. And I couldn�t resist the urge to write this on the back of the envelope with the final payment: �Have a nice life. Glad to be out of it!�).
Anyway. Enough about that.
Friday night, we just had Minnie and Mickey for kids so we went out to eat at Margarita�s. For the last time. It�s one of the restaurants we�ve frequented, and I always end up unhappy with the food and service. I think I got blinded by the prettiness of the place. It is a gorgeous restaurant, built in an old mill building, right on the Nashua River.
First of all, we walk in and there�s four girls at the hostess station. They just looked at us, no one even said hi. I�m sorry, but if I�m going to your place of business, fucking greet me. Especially if I have no choice but to talk to you. No, there�s four girls there and I don�t know who I�m supposed to fucking talk to, and no one can bother with a �Hello�. Sorry to interrupt your conversation. This has happened to me there every time I�ve gone.
Okay, so it�s a 30 minute wait for a table. Whatever, it�s Friday at 7:15, no surprise. So we went into the lounge to have a beer and wait. Of course, then it takes forever for someone to come over, but when he did he was okay. He kept an eye on us and that was cool.
When we went to our table, there was another story. By then, we knew what we wanted to order, from looking at the menu in the lounge. But, we had to wait at least 15 minutes for our waiter. Then we ordered, and he brought our beer and salads right up. I ordered chicken and beef combo fajitas, and he brought the tortillas and salsa and shit right up, too.
Well, the food took forever. And also, they stick us up on the second floor, in a corner, and it�s difficult to track down anyone who works there. It sucks. Anyway, our food came while I was in the bathroom (it�s a trick. Whenever I�ve been waiting too long for food, I just go to the bathroom. Food magically appears every time. Must have something to do with the bathroom chip that Xenu planted).
So, I go to open up the thingy-mah-doo with the tortillas in it, and there�s no tortillas! WTF! How the fuck am I supposed to eat fajitas with no tortillas? And, nobody who looks like they might work there is anywhere near us. It was 15 minutes before I could get tortillas. And then the waiter was just too smarmy about it. Just apologize, okay? Don�t make a joke out of it. Because I was not happy at all.
It just sucked. Then, when we were ready to go, we had to wait forever to get the damn check. And I make better fajitas at home. And Hub said the same about his steak.
Anyway. I have to go. There�s so much more to write about, but responsibility calls.
Oh, Go look at Flickr. Lots of new pics up.
Adios.