I’m so totally dying today. Shit! Like Grandma always said: ‘Pain fucking hurts.’ I’m waiting to pick up my pain meds. They ran out and will be getting them in from…Mexico?…shortly. If there weren’t so many fucking pill mills around here with fake-ass patients, there would be no shortage. But, since the DEA has decided to stick it’s fucking head in the mix, coupled with all those junkies, people like me have to wait. It just makes me mad enough to throat punch someone. Okay..I’ve never actually punched anyone in the throat, but I think it’s called for in this instance.
Oldest and his Yankee bride are moving back to Texas. They’ll be living back home and I’ll be able to go see them when I want to. OR, whenever that bitch on wheels allows me to see my own fucking son. OMG. She’s such a bitch. I mean…pure bitch. She’s maybe five feet tall with giant boobs, (which is how she manages to keep my son in this strange, tonic state), she marches around like a general and she is a Wiccan who thinks she can put spells on me. LOL! Oh, baby…please! For some reason, she doesn’t like me. I’ve tried to make whatever it is right, but nothing works. However, being the wonderful mother I am, if my son loves her, I love her. Period. Damn it all to Hell…
Oldest has been letting Youngest drive his since he moved to Transylvania…I mean…Pennsylvania last year. Smooth move, Oldest! Youngest ran it into a ditch between to sign poles and dented it up pretty good. A few months later, he got in a fight in a bar parking lot, got his head smashed into the back panel, then the guy went to hit him and he moved, so there’s a huge dent with knuckle dents in it. He’s had the car airborne…in flood water…you name it. Exish and I have spent two grand on tires and new catalytic converters, etc. The point is that I don’t want to hear Oldest bitching about his car. It is an old car, but it was in pristine condition when he left. You looked at it and it was just mind blowing how perfect it was. Super nice car. Now…super used car. But, Oldest should’ve known better and that will be my final answer when I get the call, and I will, about what Youngest did to his car. Fuck it.
I guess I’m gonna go and see if my meds are ready. I can’t wait to get back here and catch up on my reading! I hate trying to read and post on a cell phone. Anyway…later, taters!