"We will now use the power of the Continuum Transfunctioner to banish you to Hoboken, New Jersey"
So. Nina and Company finally moved in Monday and life as we know has changed forever. Not that I mind having my nephew close by. Damn does that poor kid look just like Ned. It�s uncanny. But, anyway, yeah. Stories to come.
I wanted to write about my nightmare morning Sunday morning after the wedding.
Like I mentioned, Eric next door (who, yes, is not as cute as my husband, but he is just so�rough, I love it. Mmmm. Speaking of which, I totally have an entry planned about the fucked up celebrity bad boys that I totally have the hots for. That one will crack your ass up and make it painfully clear that when it comes to my taste in men, I have issues) kept giving us free drinks, and we got damn tore up. If I can blame my drunkenness on someone else, I will, okay? Anyway, we had him drive us home from the reception, leaving the van at the hall. Which is across Nashua, just about to the Mass line near Pepperell, MA.
Well, the next morning was Sunday, and the kids were supposed to be meeting Dick for church. I kind of thought he might not show, because he went to the after party (that we didn�t go to cuz I was more interested in having a safe ride home and smoking weed with Eric than getting even more shitfaced), but I was going to get up and be a good doobie anyway.
Well. The plan was, Hub was going to take me to the van early and I�d get the kids to church. Yah. Hub woke up all frisky like Howard Cunningham but changed his tune quickly. He started to have a headache. Then he started puking.
He has the best puke noise ever. You just have to make fun of it. It doesn�t even sound like he�s really puking, it sounds like he�s making puke noises for fun. Not that this matters, but I thought I�d mention it.
Well, time was moving on and I had to get out. Because I did not have a hangover. I have found the secret, and it is hard liquor, not mixed with beer. And it has to be the same shit all night. Not, Oh I�ll have a rum and coke, and then some tequila, and a screwdriver, no. Same shit all night. Saturday it was 7&7�s for me. This is the shit that scares me, hangover-less drinking.
Oh, another digression. I did not drink a drop of alcohol from last Saturday (Scorpion Bowl night) until Friday. Nobody even noticed. Now. Had I drank every night, they�d notice. But I didn�t drink, and suddenly, Beavis was slacking at his Alcohol Police job.
So, where was I?
Yeah, time was marching on and Hub was alternately making best friends with the couch and driving the porcelain bus. So, I figured, I�d just take his damn truck. Which still had a friggin� trailer full of shit attached. He had to come out and take it off, but he left it right behind the truck, thus making me do a goddamn 90 point turn to get the fuck out of the driveway. I ended up *slightly* hitting his plow and bumping it off of the blocks it was on. Oopsie.
I haven�t driven the truck in like a year or so, because the thing has had problems upon problems. Like the tranny, the engine, the brakes, yada yada yada. But supposedly everything was all fixed. But fuck if that thing isn�t filthy. My hands were dirty just from touching the steering wheel.
Anyway, about 5 or 10 minutes into the ride, I hit the brakes and heard and felt something come loose near the wheel, and suddenly the brakes were fucked up. I don�t know much about cars and shit so as far as I was concerned, the fucking axle came loose. Or something. A ball joint, the brake pads, whatever. Something was fucked up.
And then! I decide to call Hub, but I forgot my fucking cell phone on the charger at home. SMOOTH MOVE, Ex-lax. Of all the friggin� times to forget the phone. Classic, just classic.
So, I got the truck to the church which was not far from where it got fucked up. Of course, Dick wasn�t there. So, I decide to walk down a couple of blocks with Minnie and Mickey to the payphone to call home.
Well, have you made a call from a payphone lately? They don�t take dimes anymore, unless you�ve got like FIVE of them. So, I had a buck�s worth of change. I called home, and of course, Beavis answered and he was downstairs and I had to tell him get the fuck up and get the phone to Hub NOW. Of course, that got fucked up and I was mysteriously disconnected and had to call back for another 50 cents, WTF.
So I asked Hub, �The fuck is wrong with the truck?�. He says �nothing�. Well, there is now. So he said, just drive it home, you should be fine.
We walked back to the truck, I started it and drove it about, I don�t know, fifty feet before I decided no fucking way was I going to drive that thing with my kids in it anywhere. Much less home, especially where I live on a hilly twirly windy road.
So, Rhonda and Robert live right near there, so I drove it to their house and used their phone to call a cab. Robert offered to give me a ride but that was after the cab was on the way, so I just declined. I felt bad enough asking to use their phone, never mind a ride out there. Now I wish I�d taken him up on it.
Because cab fares? More ridiculous than payphone calls. $18.00 to get to the van. Holy fucking shit. People with no cars or phones get fucked. I could take a bus from Manchester to Boston for $16.00, but a cab ride across town costs more. Yikes.
The kids were thrilled to bits about taking their first (AND LAST!) cab ride.
The cab driver was Mr. Cautious, at least in theory. He was talking about drinking and driving, how you can�t have more than one beer without being over the legal limit, and his theory on leaving the vehicle at home instead of at the bar, oh and about mosquitos and the potential for West Nile and EEE�all the while puffing down a cigarette. I�d much rather take my chances with the West Nile virus than lung cancer, thanks.
Anyway. I finally got the van and got home, then Dick called, so it was off to cart the kids off to him. Gas gas gas. Needlessly using gas. I want a hybrid car and that�s that. I�m pretty well trained in plugging the cell phone in, I think I could remember the car. Again, I digress.
Hub finally perked up by the time we got home and it was time to head to my dad�s house in Greenfield (again, gas gas gas�). I dropped Hub off at Robert and Rhonda�s to fix his truck. He was going to take it down to work in Lowell, but I told him to check it out first before he killed himself.
Oh, and his rationale for being sick? He wasn�t hungover. No. He had a migraine, and they make him puke. Point taken, but where do you think the migraine came from, drunky?
So. He fixed the truck with Robert. You won�t believe this shit. The brake pads on the brand new brakes he just put on no more than a month ago, came right off the rivets. Faulty parts, he said. HA! Now, maybe I don�t know much about cars, but I know that the pads are what you have to snap in yourself when you�re doing the brakes. Right? He fucked them up! Again, he puts my life in danger! Or his own, since he�s the primary driver. But still. It had to fuck up the one time in a year that I drove the damn thing.
OMG, I love my nephew Jaegan. But his little brother Josh? Is going to make me insane. If you say no to this kid, he needs to know why. How many �Because I said�s is this kid going to need before he gets the hint that what I say is the way it is at my house? Probably a billion or so.
Okay, I must go and be a responsible adult again. Ciao! =)