Friday, December 14, 2012

Friday the 14th, Part Two

As anyone who follows this blog on a daily, semi-daily or a tri-daily basis knows . . .

. . . your fearless, featherless blogadeer has been doing some house-cleaning.  For reasons known only to your twisted minds, the number of you idiots, fools and knaves who are reading this thing have spiked greatly in the past year.  Since many of you are rather new, it seems that I best be updating and improving on the overall motif.  Hence, a bit of rearranging and dusting is in order.  First priority are the more recent blogs dealing with monkey-spankers, free-ranging pit bulls, geezers vs. post office walls, and me and beach blanket biking.  As the urge moves me, I will deal with the other, earlier blogs.  Meanwhile. . . .

Damn!--While we are hiding the car keys from the demented elderly among us, we better be hiding their guns, too.   Indeed, we better be hiding everything else this highly disgruntled bunch of fossils has that can be used to kill the rest of us. 

Over at nearby North Port the other day, some irate senior didn’t like the condition one piece of his paid-for furniture had arrived in and so he refused to pay the delivery fee.  Now, it would have been a lot smarter had old Roy waited until the delivery-men had actually unloaded all the stuff before he made his loud complaint.  But nope, stupid is as stupid does.  And so, when Roy announced that he would not pay, the men prudently refused to unload the goods.  Long story short: When the impatient movers made ready to leave--with the furniture still in the truck—raging Roy stomped into the house and returned waving a pistol and knife.  Naturally, the startled movers ran for their lives.

When the blue lights arrived, they disarmed our rocking chair Rambo and led him away to a place where he might cool off a bit; a place with a lot less furniture.

DAMN!!—There seems to be an evil chemistry between those who are age-challenged (formerly known as ‘old’) and canals.  If it ain’t gators sawing off a senior’s leg, arm, hand, foot, or head as they walk, creep or crawl beside a canal (a body of water where Florida geezers apparently spend the majority of their time), then it is one of them falling in and managing to drown.  Such was the case the other day when an old gent found his 70-something wife floating belly up.  No report yet on cause of death but my bet is it will be ruled “death by canal” (a category of death unique to Florida) and dropped.

DAMN!!!—Down at Marco Island, seems one chap really took it to heart when the preacher asked the beach wedding assemblage if anyone had a problem with the happy couple getting hitched.  Well, part-time drunk and full-time fool, Brad Stiner, wasn’t about to “forever hold his peace” when someone asks for a piece of his mind.  In fact, rather than list the numerous reasons he had against the marriage, the idiot proceeded to just throw insults, curses and full cans of beer at the startled gathering.  One 16-oz. can of Bud brained the best man and bonked him senseless.  When the groom, the bride, the father-of-the-bride, the mother-of-the-groom, the brothers of the bridesmaids, the sisters of the . . .  when the entire wedding party chased after Stiner, he sobered up just enough to beat a hasty retreat over the sand. 

Pretty quick, cops found the booze bag and saved him from the mob.  While Brad babbled on and on about his "rights" and being an American citizen and a taxpayer and how he was a “local” and how the beach belonged to him, cops led this imbecile away.

Lord, with a wedding like this, wonder what the topic of conversation was at the reception?  Wonder too how the honeymoon went? 

Fourth Time’s the Charm—Florida “huffer,” Pat Henderson, has finally gone to that great high in the sky.  For those of you who have been living under a rock these past ten years or so, “huffing” is a term for breathing in aerosol paint vapor and other quick-acting poisons.  It has become the death of choice among the underly-intelligent and overly-stupid addictive personality crowd as a means to fry one’s brain in the cheapest and speediest manner possible. 

Seems poor Pat just couldn’t be saved from himself.  A few weeks ago, he was arrested for huffing outside a Staples store.  A day later he was arrested for huffing outside a Target Store.  A few days later he was arrested for huffing outside a Walmart.   Had this continued Pat would have certainly set some kind of record for the most number of huffing arrests outside different, but not dissimilar, major American business franchises.   

But alas, Pat Henderson is no more. His body was found a mouldering, not in a grave, but in his car the other day, a veritable methane gas bomb of decomposing guts and paint fumes.  No mention in the report of the business outside of which the body was discovered but my money is on either an Office Depot, a Lowes or a Circuit City.

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