"Yeah, that's right, or we'll tie you to a tree, fuck you in the ass while we jerk you off. Show you what we really do to perverts around here."
Well, I finally have a frickin� morning to myself and I have a ton of shit to do. I�ve done about 1/3 of it and I�m ready for a break. Oh shut up. You do it, too, admit it.
I�m on hold with the Bank that Calls Themselves a Credit Union waiting for the payoff on my personal loan. It is being paid off, today, dammit! Two and a half years of payments are over! I�m keeping this fact a secret from Hub, who will either want to apply for another one (because what�s life without borrowing large amounts of money and paying it back at a ridiculous interest rate, right?) or find something else to pay for with that money every month.
Okay, all done being on hold.$141.03. Yay!
So. Yesterday I was starting to mention Ned in my little spiel about losers who use poverty as an excuse to be a loser and I totally didn�t even go into the latest about his dumb ass. My dad called me the other afternoon to tell me that he�s back in his favorite resort, Hillsborough County House of Corrections, Valley St, Manchester location, for a whopping ten months this time. Probably seven with good behavior. But still, even at seven months, that�s twice as long of a sentence as he�s ever gotten.
And I say, good. Maybe a long ass sentence like that will wake him the fuck up. My dad�s all feeling bad for him but I�m not. Not one bit. I�m so fucking fed up with this shit, ya know? Get a fucking grip, ass-munch.
He got such a long sentence because at his last hearing (for whatever, who knows! If it�s not in the paper or witnessed by someone that we know who happened to be at court that day, Ned doesn�t give up the info. He told Hub a few weeks ago that he spit in a cop�s face, but that could be a lie, too. I�m thinking if he were to pull that shit, especially with the way the Nashua PD knows him, he�d have gotten an ass-wuppin�. But I�m just speculating), the judge ordered him to be evaluated at Keystone Hall, the local drunky detox and rehab place. Ned�s done a few stints there, but hasn�t been in a few years. Anyway, evidently, the evaluation costs like $320, which Ned didn�t have, so he didn�t go.
The judge got pissed, and threw the book at him. It�s about fucking time, Judgey-poo! He�s obviously had trouble complying with court orders, like, forever.
(Speaking of Judgey-Poo, I see Harriet Miers rescinded her nomination. Good. That whole situation was sketchy. Let�s see which of W�s cronies gets the nomination now).
So, my dad says Ned was pretty shocked the judge gave him such a long sentence. Ned being the only one who�s shocked. But, really, what the fuck? $320 to keep his ass out of jail. He doesn�t have bills, no rent, doesn�t pay his fucking child support which Is totally cheap anyway, so basically, he has nothing to pay for. And he couldn�t do the work-a-day thing for a week or two and pay for it? No, because he�s a fucking moron.
It pisses me off, especially when I hear the heartbreak in my dad�s voice. Fucking Ned has no clue what he�s done to my dad, or my grandmother before she died. Or his kid.
Yeah, when I told Nina the other night she was pissed because the last time he saw Jaegan he promised him that he would be here for his birthday and he wasn�t going to go to jail again. Yeah, well, Jaegan�s birthday is Tuesday and not only will he not be here, he�s back in jail. Shut the fuck up with the promises, already.
Loser.
Anyway, I feel for my dad. As much as I believe that really he and my grandmother created that monster, at some point Ned needed to snap the fuck out of it and take responsibility for himself. Obviously, he hasn�t. I had to tell my dad to look at the bright side. First, we don�t have to worry about him for the winter. He�s housed and fed for the next seven months. Our tax dollars at work. And maybe, just maybe, a long vacation as a guest of the state will wake him the fuck up.
I can hope, right?
And speaking of my dad, you know, I love him to death. He did the best he could with us, and I know he loves me and is proud of me. And likewise. However, talking to him on the phone drives me nuts! I mean, I hate talking on the phone as it is, and my dad is not much for the conversation on the phone, but he wants to talk. Lots of silences. Plus, the kids like know I�m talking to him and start acting up and asking for shit when I�m talking (or not) to him. It makes me bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
Speaking of bananas, I�ll be eating a lot more of them. I weighed in last night and I was up six pounds. Since last week. HUH? How the fuck is that even possible? I know I didn�t follow program but six fucking pounds? I doubt that�s all fat. I could believe I�d gained two, maybe three, but not six. Fucking Aunt Flo (I was having CRAMPS yesterday too, I rarely cramp with my period, WTF? They were bad, too, I had to take ibuprofen for them). Still, seventeen pounds over goal? Yeah, there�s a wake up call. I guess I�ll be running up and down the stairs a lot because evidently, I have no excuse not to exercise!
WTF? Hub has called me three fucking times this morning. For nothing, really. He knows I was going to be tackling all this work this morning. He didn�t know about the diary update, but still, that�s just as important. To me, anyway. Of course, Nina knew I was going to be catching up this morning, too, and she called to see If I�d go to the store for her. Not right now, sorry. I�ve been getting behind on this shit because I�ve been dragging your ass around for the past two days.
Yeah, Hub calls to say Robert called, he�s got some good weed if we want it. Like I ever say no to that. Hub says, �Let him know�. Ugh. He calls YOU. WTF is wrong with YOU telling him? I mean, he�ll buy fucking BK with the business card and think that�s fine (oh BOY did I set him straight on that one), but he has to ask permission for a bag of weed? Come ON.
Yeah. I�m irritable. This fucking piece of shit computer isn�t helping matters much either. I have to have it looked at. AGAIN. It�s so slow. I updated my diary yesterday and noticed all kinds of typos after updating, but it takes dland like twenty fucking minutes just to edit an entry. Just waiting for the page to load is like torture. I have no patience for slow computers.
Anyway. I have to get moving along. Maybe I can get more work done. HA! Doubt it.
Have a lovely day, all! And don�t litter, goddamnit.