Helpless...

Unlike the genius in the photo to your left, I have been struggling to come up with blog fodder. It's not that there is nothing to write about, more like I honestly think that it's all boring. Hunter S. Thompson could write a book on water utility rates and through his style of writing and candor, it would be a best seller and funny to boot.

It's not like I am sending invitations to a pity party, mind you. I just get worried I will bore people and with that thoughts comes the fact I might lose the two readers I do have. So...without further delay, I am presenting the latest installment of what you all seem to really dig,

Tales of the Crazy that Lives Next Door

V. In Which Jackass Wishes It Were Any Given Sunday

Last week I was coming home from a rather long day at work. It may have been made longer by being tired or hungover or both. Needless to say, the last thing I wanted to deal was Mother Bear or any of her weird kid bullshit. My car rolled the last 300 yards down to the intersection of East Ghetto and Fucking Bizarre and I saw something that made me say, "Hmm." I noticed that my garbage cans, as well as my recycling, had already been pulled to the street, ready for the Monday morning trash collection. My first thought was that my brother ( and also new roommate ) had taken the iniative of bringing the cans to the street, maybe he even took the trash from the kitchen out! Oh, to sleep perchance to dream!

I walked into the house and took off my shoes and pants, as per usual. I guess it's a guy thing and as I have lived on my own for a long time, I am not used to having someone else home. Plus, this is my castle and if I want to reign in boxer breifs that's my right as monarch. I poured myself a tall, cool glass of H2O and wandered into the living room. As I predicted, my brother was passed out on the couch at 3:30 pm, a portrait of motivation and vitality. For a split second, I considered dumping the water on him but I figured having a refugee sleeping on it and being wet is not going to help my couch smell any better. So I hopped on the computer and fired up iTunes at a respectable volume.

He awoke with sort of a, "What the fuck?" look on his face. "Good evening sunshine! It's almost 4pm time to start the day" I said. He closed his eyes and grimmaced. I believe the next phrase out of his mouth was, "I don't have to work today." but as I don't speak the Urk-Hai, Ork Dialect, I just returned fire with, "So, why get off the couch, right?" About 20 minutes later, when he did finally decide to rise, I laid a very careful trap. "Thanks for taking the trash to the street" I said. "You're welcome" he grunted as he was still shaking the cobwebbs from his brain. "Wait, what?" he mumbled. "The trash to the street" I replied. He looked at me as if he were a billy goat and I was asking him to play a stringed instrument. "I didn't do anything with the trash, that's your job, you live here." he said. "Oh so you shitting, showering and making my couch smell wonderful are just bonuses I get for having you as company?" my voice was revealing some underlying frustration. "Whatever" was the best my brother could come up with.

I returned to IM'ing, reading blogs and surfing for intelligent life on this vast interweb, and as I did, something caught me off gaurd. "If my brother didn't take the trash to the street, who did?" It took my about .5 seconds to deduce that Mother Bear wanted to make sure we didn't miss trash pick-up. I remembered seeing her sweeping the parking lot of the convenience store across the street, a few days earlier. "WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!" my brother jumped about two feet just from the sound of my voice. He assumed a fighting stance as if the hizzouse was being invaded by Huns and looked around frantically. I turned to him, "that fucking lunachick nextdoor took our trash out." He blinked and looked dumbfounded. "YEAH, AND SHE PROBABLY LOOKED THROUGH IT TOO!!!" little brother was pushing all my buttons and he knew it too.

I sat down and tried to reason why someone would be that nice. After several minutes I figured it was not that she was being nice, it's just that she was flat out crazy. I was so fired up that I finished the rest of my water and needed to lay down. About an hour and a half into my fitful rest, I was awoken by Mother Bear washing the outside of my house, with my hose, again. I shook my head in disbeliefe and went back to sleep. She is a good neighbor but sometimes I really wish I could live next to someone with a normal dysfunction.