Monday, August 14, 2006

Our Gang

Let me just start by saying that our "Group" at the VA this morning was most excellent in all extremes except one. (about which more later)

First off just let me say that I absolutly freaking hate to be in a lot of traffic.
My driving skills are of course above reproach. It's the other million and a half of the crazy commuters who have to make it to work on time or there'll be hell to pay, not to mention the mortgage and the car payments and the braces for the kids and the new boob job to keep the old chain and ball attractive to the pool boy to pay for.
That's why I live out in the country.... so every bug in the known universe can feast on my tender lily white flesh.

So there I am having gotten up before any sane person has a right to, to get on I-85 early enough so as to miss the "rush" hour traffic, even if it does mean that I get there from 1 1/2 to 2 hrs early.
So as to deny myself the joy of mixing it up with some idiot who was up half the night whacking off to internet porn and can barely see his eyes are so red.

When.............to my suprise right about half way between Indian Trail and Beaver Ruin Rd the Cell phone rings. And since I'm completly anal about the extension between my wrist and ear, I answer...hello?

Why's Bobby still in the trailer?

And it goes downhill from there.

So I was in a great mood when I got to the VA. Go into our little oasis away from all the sane and politically correct world for at least an hour.

Man, we were on a roll. We had most of the political and military problems in the known universe solved and were starting on the economic challanges of hard..ie Gold and Silver Money VS Good old greenbacked by nothing Federal Reserve Notes, when in walked Harold, about 5 minutes after we started (we being nothing if not efficient problem solvers, which probably explains why we are there every monday after all).

Now Harold is having lady trouble.........that is he got jelous of some dude who came to his birthday party thrown by his "then" girlfriend without his own dudette, and was whispering to his "then" gf.

Now in Harold's defense I must say that by his own admission about a bottle and a third of Bombay Sapphire had been consumed so things might have been a little hazy. So being all of about 5'6" tall and about 135 lbs he proceeds to clean the clock of said dude. Whereupon looking around and seeing the marveling and admiring gazes.......rather incredulous stares of the other attendees, he says to hell with all of this and leaves. I mean what the hell there is no way in hell he'll ever be able to get that girls skirt up again. But that doesn't keep him from trying lo these past three weeks. Of course we were all encourgaging of his persual of said ex-gf.
And all of our advice was all well intentioned and the best we could offer. You just have to keep in mind that between the twelve of us there have probably been no less than twenty five or thirty wives, so of course we could draw on our eperiences of many years to get him thru this tiny crisis. He should pay us for the help.

Oh, yes the one down part. The young lithsome, blonde intern with the exqusite ankles is leaving for more fertile fields. We wish her luck.

But I'll bet there won't be any kudzu there.

4 comments:

LL said...

Ha!!

Jean said...

excellent, excellent post!

p.s. hope your group-mate gets somebody's skirt up soon.

K. D. Zu said...

Heck, I wish I could get someones skirt up soon.

Jean said...

ok....I hope YOU get someone's skirt up soon!....:)