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5:19 a.m. - 2002-06-26


Wellllll...I kinda let my brother-in-law have it last night.

You've got to understand one real life I'm not nearly as brash as Uncle Bob. I hate bursting bubbles and all that shit, but truth be known, my brother-in-law probably thinks I'm just real quiet and that I haven't been seething under my breath for 16 years every time we've been in the same room together.

I manage to hide my emotions really well. Ever since that Catholic priest touched my wiener when I was a kid, I've kept my emotions bottled up deep inside.


MY HOT DOG, YOU PERVERTS!!! was at a barbecue! He finished his hamburger and asked me if I was going to eat my hot dog and touched the wiener part!! GOD!! You people are so perverted sometimes!!!


Sooooo anyway...BIL comes over at 7 o'clock last night. Just as we're in full swing of boxing stuff up.

He's here to remove MORE stuff of his from our workshop out back.

Let's back pedal for a moment...shall we??

When we moved into this house in 1989, we got all of our stuff moved in. We didn't have much at the time, being young, poor and stupid. So we had an entire empty workshop in our back yard.

BIL and MIL asked if they could store a few things in the workshop until they could make room in their house for the stuff.

We said sure. After all, the workshop was just sitting there empty.

So they moved a veritable SHITLOAD of stuff in there. They moved so much shit that Jimmy Hoffa could have been in there somewhere and we would have never known it.

At the time it was okay. Grandma said that they would pay us rent on the storage. Wheeeeeeeeee!!!

Like a g-damned fool I was all like "Gawsh! Surrrre! You can move your stuff in if'n ya pay us rent on it!!"

My eyeballs magically changed into dollar bill signs. That kinda shit.

Thirteen years later...their shit is STILL in there. Covered in 13 years worth of dust. have to think...if you haven't even SEEN some stuff in 13 years...let alone USED it ... you probably don't NEED it...right???

...Not when you're dealing with MY in-laws.

So BIL came over to start packing that stuff up.

This is at 7:00.

By 9:00, we hadn't seen or heard from him in two hours. We had been busy boxing up our OWN stuff and loading it into the van for me to take to our storage unit.

BIL pops his head in the patio door, scaring the shit outta both of us because he's just way too damned freaky looking to be popping his head into anything.

"You guys got anything to eat?" he asks.

I sigh. Of COURSE that's his modus operendi. I'm positive that the fat bastard ate plenty before he got to our house. He got here at 7. He had two hours between getting off work and getting to our house as a window to eat dinner. He's just such a fat, mooching bastard that he has to eat and drink at least something every time he comes over to the house.

So he fixes himself a HUGE plate of the turkey sausage leftover crap that I had fixed Monday night.

While he's waiting for it to heat up, Susie asks him how it's going, loading up his truck with stuff.

And he says....

And I'm quoting here....


(clears throat)

(puts on those little half glasses and reads directly from the minutes of the meeting last night, clears throat one more time and begins)

"It would go a lot quicker if I had some help."



Had I had access to a cap at that moment, you can bet it would have been popped in his ass. Because I'm down like that.

I was beyond flabbergasted. In fact, it's safe to say that I was flibbergasted.

I lost it. After 16 years of putting up with this guy's utter loserness, I finally spoke up.

And I said...

And I quote...

(glasses, clear throat thing)

"BIL, you've had 13 years to move that stuff. We've been given one week to move ALL of our stuff. We're busy in here too."



I did a little victory dance and spiked the football in my head.

So he said....

And I quote....

(ahem, clear throat, put glasses back on and read)

"No. I meant I should have brought someone with me to help. I KNOW you guys are busy."



Ah ha.

Ah ha ha ha.

Silly me. I thought you were insinuating that I...that we...that you....

Ah ha ha ha.


Is my face red or what? see...I thought you were saying that....we .... you know....I ....

Aw fuck it.

I'm an asshole.

I finished boxing up a few more things, drove over to the storage unit and unloaded a vanload of stuff.

I hung around out there because there's a rock band a few units over who practice out there each night. They were working on Weezer's "Hash Pipe" which I still love, so I was groovin' along to their funky fresh sound and trying to avoid going back to the house to face my BIL who must think I'm some kinda giant cockmaster by now.

I got back to the house at 10 p.m. and Susie and BIL were standing in my kitchen.

I just said "I'm showering and going to bed."

Susie said "I'm right behind you." know...technically she wasn't. She was in the kitchen. But what she meant was that as soon as her fat assed brother quit eating, she was going to tell him to get in his truck and leave so that we could go to bed.

I showered and went to bed.

At 11:15, Susie got into bed.

"Is BIL gone?" I asked, pretty groggy.

"He just now left," she sighed.

So it took the guy four hours to load up one truckload of stuff.

To say that he's SLOW is an understatement. Susie and her entire family are some of the slowest people I've ever met.

I'd say they were methodical, but they're not. They're just painfully slow at everything they do. I chalk it up to the fact that they're all constantly having to tell extremely boring stories and jokes while they do something which takes their mind away from the tasks at hand. At that point, they're sidetracked and trying to hold court with their boring assed stories while normal people just stare at them and think in their heads "If this slow bastard doesn't hurry up and do what they need to do, the proverbial cap will be popped in their ass."

...I'm all about popping caps in asses today.


I was going to mow the yard last night, but it appears that I have water in my fuel tank or something.

How did you get water in your fuel tank, U.B.???

Well, gawsh kids...I'm not dumb enough to put water in my fuel tank. But it got in there somehow ... so let's see....who's dumb enough to put water in my fuel tank.....???

Give up???

Do you even NEED a hint?!?

My g-damned brother-in-law.

On Saturday, during a blinding rain storm, at one point he took my mower out of the workshop and moved it outside in the rain so that we could get around it easier.

I didn't even notice this. To the best of my knowledge, I wasn't around when he did it, or I would have said "BIL. You are a damned fool. Leaving the mower in the rain will fuck it up worse than Lennox Lewis boxing a grandmother."

But there was sooo much crap outside at that point, I didn't notice that the mower was in the middle of the crap.

When we went to move stuff back in to the workshop, the mower and my wet-dry vacuum were both outside.

I mentioned to Susie that I hoped the rain didn't screw up my lawnmower.

She pointed out that if it did, we had a service contract on it and could get it fixed.

Which puts my mind at ease.

So now I have to take the lawn mower in and the new owner of the house won't have a freshly mowed yard when she moves in.

That sucks.

And it's all my BIL's fault.

But at least...for once...his screw-up can be mended.

So I can't really give him shit about it.

The kid and wife are up, so I've gotta go.

Rawk over London. Rawk over Paris.

KFC...we do chicken right.

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