Amateurs ©

“Sigh”

What is it with people and their desire to do things they have no idea about?
Then when they get in trouble they start crying for help.
Wouldn’t it be easier to talk to someone first and learn how it’s done properly before running off blind in the dark smacking your face into ever wall?

It’s like all those people who used to sit at home watching TV getting hypnotized by Home Depot commercials.
In the space of thirty seconds they convince themselves they could add an extension to the house without having to pay for a real builder.
Six months down the road you’re re-mortgaging the house to pay for the real builder to repair what you tried to fix.

Sure, we can do the little things, fix a leak, repair a light fixture, paint, and put down a floor, carpet.
Things that we can afford to loose and brush off as “At least I tried”.

It’s the same with most things in life.
There are professionals who get paid a ridiculous amount of money to do what they know best, their jobs.
If you’re an accountant, people bring their paperwork to you because you know your job.
If your car breaks down, you take it to the mechanic to fix because he knows his job.
Sure you could change a belt or a fuse, change a tire but would you want an accountant changing the breaks on your car or a mechanic?

People are called professionals because they know what they are doing and could do their job with little effort and a lot of thought.
Amateurs are called amateurs because they do the job with a lot of effort and no thought what so ever then they fuck up and need help.
So whom do they call when they are in trouble?

Walker

The toilet’s broken?
Call Walker

The computer’s broken?
Call Walker

The car needs a tune up?
Call Walker.

Does anyone call and say “I have to work overtime today so be a buddy and stop by my place and give they old lady a bump for me to keep her happy”
No, never but they call me and say ”Can you come over quick I have a problem with the wife”?

He has a problem with his wife.
They just got back two days ago from Jamaica and he is having problems already.
Maybe she found something smarter over there under a shell.

I asked him what the problem was and he told me that his wife couldn’t go to the washroom.
So let me understand this correctly, you call to tell me you need help with your wife because she can’t go for a shit.
Well it sounds reasonable, if your wife can’t go; you call a Greek for help.

He insists I go over and I insisted that I didn’t want to but after hearing her crying in the background I said I would walk down.
I am a glutton for punishment.

If the shuttle ever breaks down and they call me for help, I’m saying no, that’s final.
So NEVER CALL, because I am not going to answer the phone for NASA.

On the way over to their place I took a detour to the pharmacy and picked up something I needed then went to their place where I found him drinking beer and her smiling/crying at the same time.

He brought me a beer and we sat in the living room to talk.
I asked them how their trip was and she started crying again and ran off to the washroom.
WTF
Then he starts telling me the story about their trip to Jamaica.
In fact there is not much to tell.
He said they had a wonderful time and the weather was beautiful and it didn’t get bad until they came back home.
That’s when his wife came back from the washroom and when he looked at her she nodded no to him.

He continues telling me that when they first got there they wanted to buy some pot and found some guy who gave them a good deal on some really good hash.
On the next to last day before they were to leave they got drunk and stoned, fucked all night and came up with the brilliant idea to bring some of this hash back.

I can see where this is going already so I settle back and listen.
These are basically law-abiding citizens who like to smoke their pot; they have no kids so their money is for their leisure so they travel the world and enjoy their free time together.
I have never seen them fight.
I don’t think they know how to break the law but as you will see there is always a first time.

He goes on to tell me that they bought three ounces of this hash resin then packed it in condoms.
When it was about four hours before then had to leave she swallowed ten lubricated condoms filled with the hash thinking because they were lubricated and would slide out of her butt.
I guess they figured the body acids would have nothing to say about that.

Their flight was delayed in transition and that added another six hours to the time it was sitting inside her along with all the food she was eating.
In fact it took them a total of sixteen hours to get home and when she ran to the washroom nothing happened other than a pee, that was two days ago and now she look desperate.
They both asked me if I knew what they could do?

I was doing my best to contain myself from bursting out in laughter.
Do you know how stupid it is to take the risk of smuggling in drugs and for a small amount like $500 is even dumber?
Go, have fun.
Smoke, rink, dance until you drop then fuck until the sun comes up but when it’s time to rock and roll home, leave the junk behind.

I asked them if they tried a laxative and they said yes.
Anal sex?
Her eyes almost popped out of her head, NO!!!!!
I looked at him and laughed, he grinned, she said “NO” again.
HA HA HA, you got to love life when it’s like this.

I figure she was so nervous and tense she could go to the washroom and it didn’t help that she had ten condoms with hash begging to come out pressed up there to.
I took the bag out of my pocket I got from pharmacy and pulled out a small bottle of this stuff they give you to take before you go for a colonoscopy.
It’s like draino for a human.
I told them to mix it with half a glass of water and wait, and then I got up and went to leave.

At the door he said he would call me when it comes out and toss me some hash.
Hmmm I don’t think that’s my kind of shit to smoke.
I told him if this stuff didn’t work that she could probably need an enema.

It must have been about an hour later when the phone rang and it was buddy freaking out and crying.
I’m thinking now what?
I hope his wife didn’t have a stroke and die because of the laxative I gave her.

He said that she took what I gave her almost as soon as I left and about thirty minutes later she had to run to the washroom where we ass exploded into the toilet.
When she walked out of the washroom he said she looked high as a kite, crying with happiness that her ordeal was over.

I told him that I was impressed that he was crying with joy with his wife.
He said they weren’t tears of joy.
He said his wife was so happy to be rid of her burden
She wiped her butt, flushed the toilet and ran out the door to tell him the good news.

Ah C’est la vie

So people remember, do the little jobs around the house but let the professionals do the ones you think you can but can’t and just have some fun.

Have a nice day

Walker