pyratwilly

Booyakasha- in we go-

So after a rather nuts memorial weekend, I'm preparing to settle into the normal routine for the last time. I've only got a little more than a month left of work. Hence, only two of those long weekend triple shifts left. Nice - even I should be able to handle that.

I say this weekend was nuts because I had all of it off when I really ought to have been working. My sister graduated HS and we had my cool-ass surfer uncle come in from San Diego. I dig that guy. His kid is cool too. Without question the most laid-back kid I've ever met. Nothing fazes the kid. Though he was a little upset when he skinned his elbow on my skateboard. But once we put a band-aid on there, he was all good. Nothing like corrupting the youth to make you feel good. Family no less. This kid was actually doing pretty well. Had a good start on mastering the human dart. He's a ways from ollie-ing yet though.

Of course, various people came around to wish my sister well, and some of them it was nice to see, and some it was really great to see (i.e. the closest thing to a Godfather I'll ever have). But others - like teachers I really didn't get along with that my sister did...yeesh. But no question the highlight of my sister's open house (for me) was getting to play bouncer. My sister invited a kind of mentor she had a few years back (this'd be one of those people I don't get along with) and she brought her husband. Husband was not invited. For a good reason - husband considers himself a Reverend and made my mom's life miserable for a few years back when she cared about the congregation she was attending. I say he considers himself a reverend because he does technically own the title - but he knows and I know good an' hell well that he's only there for the tax breaks and other perks that calling himself a minister afford him. In any case, the little fuckstick got into it with my mom again about why wasn't she coming to church and just generally being an ass and attempting to guilt trip her for not giving money. At this point mom informed him that this was not the time nor the place for him to wax fire and brimstone. He made a rather rude comment at which point I intervened. Rev. decided that'd be good time to leave, and I agreed with him. I will hit a man of the cloth - I may feel bad later, but I'll do it. And this dude ain't one of God's messengers. Don't fuck with my mom. In the words of Steve Harvey - "I'm from the projects, and my ass will act project-ish." Ok, so I'm not from the projects. But I do come from a relatively rough neighborhood, if I say so myself. I didn't always live in the 'burbs.

So my mom and dad and I went to dinner tonight and my mom asked me about what was going to happen when they went to Italy. I said I didn't know, but I knew what she was getting at. She (and my dad and I to a lesser extent) are pretty damn concerned about my sister and her current boyfriend. We were happy when she decided to go to college in California, because we figured that's an end to that relationship. Now apparently he's planning to go to Cali too. He's built himself a little Fast and the Furious knock-off and is convinced that once he's in Cali, someone's gonna jump to sponsor his ass. Check it out folks, the L.A. parade of delusion must have taken a wide ass wrong turn to loop so far as Cedar Falls, IA. But he's gonna make it. Right. I'm pretty sure there are no less than 10,000 people with cars in L.A. who have nothing better to do than smoke this fool's ass. Not to mention, where's he keeping this drag racer to keep it from getting stolen? He can't afford a garage. I'm digressing. Point is, the guy's a tool. And I'd really rather not see my sister stuck with his ass. And I'm not so naive as to pretend that she's a virgin, but god-damn I hope she's not fucking this no-talent ass clown.

I got a last minute invite to a friend's fiancee's sister's open house in Grinnell, so I took a little trip and saw a friend and his woman, met the family of the fiancee. It was cool. Lot's of illness in this family, at relatively young ages - let's hope Shagz has some dominant genes in him.

Hmph. I got nothing else. No poetry, no prose - likely because I didn't read much this weekend - too much tv. Sorry for such a boring entry. I'll remedy that soon, I promise. Till then - courage.