Fingering Life ©

Ah shit happens all the time doesn’t it?
I thought Monday was a tough day but the week went on to challenge me more and more as the weekend came and went.
First off I hope all my Canadian brothers and sisters have a great Thanksgiving and also to my American friends I hope you had a happy Columbus Day.
You do know he wasn’t the first one to find America right?
It’s funny how we can debate on who discovered the Americas first when there was someone already living here.
It’s like coming home one day from work and finding a bunch of strangers in your house poking your old lady and daughter, drinking your beer while celebrating the discovery of your place for the first time ever.

By Thursday last I was feeling a lot better but for my neck and back which were hurting like a SOB.
Doc said it was due to a lung infection brought on my flu and constant coughing so he gave me a prescription for an antibiotic inhaler.
Later that afternoon I took my mother to her allergist for her yearly check up and to top up on the serum she takes to keep her allergies at bay so it won’t affect her asthma.

My mother hates going to see him because he makes her blow in the machine to see what shape her lungs are in.
He hands her a cardboard tube that’s as think as a cock and tell her to blow as hard and for as long as she can through the tube but the old lady just can’t do it.
She blows and the machine barely reads anything so the doctor tells her she has to blow harder.
When she fails again the doctor takes a tube and shows her how he wants her to blow and how hard.
My m other tells him she will try her best and puts the tube back in her mouth and you can see her collection all her energy to give it one good blast.

The doctor set up the machine one more time.
My mother was all charged up like a balloon ready to bust when the doctor gave her the signal to blow.
We could see her suck one last bit of air to top off her lungs before she lunged forward with everything she had and farted instead.
I looked at the doctor and told him the cardboard tube is on the wrong end.
My mother was embarrassed but the doctor told her it was ok, lots of people do it.

It took another 5-6 tries before he had a decent enough reading to determine my mother had issues.
Hell I could smell that she had issues I didn’t need him telling me so he put her on some new asthma medication hoping her breathing would become a little better.

With my mothers last appointment dealt with I could now concentrate on cleaning house and taking it easy while my body healed itself from the flu once and for all.
As I lay around that night I decided to sit at the computer and write a post when halfway through the first page my keyboard decided to die.
They never die when you need them just when you do for some reason.
I can’t really complain because that keyboard has lasted the longest than any other keyboard I have ever owned.
Usually I kill two to three a year but that one lasted over a year.

The first thing I did was turn it upside down and banged it until I shook out a garbage can of crumbs, ashes and pot then right side up to see it that helped.
It didn’t.
Next I started tacking it apart and in the process managed to slice my thumb open.
What would a day be without me maiming myself?
Just as I had all the keys off and washing the membrane Frick decided he wanted to fly like an eagle and jumped up from the floor in front of me sending keys and screws flying everywhere.

As I pushed my chair back I could hear the wheels crushing the little hard plastic keys under them.
So that was it for that keyboard and at 2am was pronounced dead and gone BUT
I wasn’t really bothered by the death of the keyboard because I have a pile of them downstairs.
I went down there and fished out a brand new one and came upstairs to find out the Dell doesn’t have a PS2 port on it any more and only USB ports.
Great, I have six PS2 keyboards BUT I found one in my brothers pile that was a USB so I took that but on my way out of the basement I managed to smash my knee on my brother’s fucken TV that he has stored in my basement.

My brother has turned my basement and my parent’s into his own private fucken storage depot and it’s really pissing me off.
I take the keyboard upstairs and hook it up to the computer and like magic the operating system recognized it and I was back in business…………… almost.
I stared down at the keyboard and it was French.
I have trouble typing English, how the fuck am I going to type French but that wasn’t going to stop me so I stared back and forth from the keyboard to the screen trying to figure out where everything was and I was doing pretty good until I noticed some of the comments I was leaving around the blogasphere.
It seems that the “B” key was broken.
It’s never easy is it?
I decided to go to bed before I took the keyboard and beat it up against the wall and have to paint it again then deal with it in the morning.

Around 10am Friday morning I could hear my doorbell rattling like a Tommy gun so I stumbled out of bed and made my way downstairs to kill whoever was at my door.
It was one of my friends who drove in from out of town and was standing there with a case of beer under his arm and a bottle of Jägermeister in the other.
Oh yeah, it was going to be one of those weekends.

He told me that he was in town for the day and stopped in for a few before he went off to see a woman he stops in to stay with and get laid.
She does the same thing when she is where he lives.

I told him to he could crash at my place if he wanted too.
He said he would keep it in mind but probably wouldn’t have too.
I told him it was just an option but I didn’t tell him that the chick he was going to see had a live in boyfriend now.
I figure to let her tell him.

As we sat there he pulled out a bag of pot and we started the party at 10:30am by 2 we were hammered.
Probably because I hadn’t fucken eaten yet.
I’m getting to old for this shit.

We decided to go get some wings to eat and staggered the eight blocks to my local pub.
Walker may be a pot smoking, beer chugging, pussy licking fool at times but he don’t get into cars with people who are drunk or stoned anymore, naked is ok.

We walked through the door and the boys were up in arms when they saw me complaining that I haven’t been around in months.
Yeah well, life’s a bitch and I can get into enough trouble staying at home.
We sat at the bar and no sooner had the waitress showed up to get our orders one of the guys yelled over to give me a jug of beer on his tab and that was pretty much the trend until we left.
We scoffed down two pounds of wings each and washed them down with three jugs of beer before we left.

At home we decided top slow down because he had to go to his female friend’s place so we watched some TV and drank coke until 6 pm when he left.
When he was gone I was feeling little to no pain as I lay there watching another segment of the Da Vinci Code special they have been running all week.
As I lay there the phone ran and it was my EX.
She wanted to know if she and the kids could come for Thanksgiving dinner.
To my knowledge we weren’t having one but I told her I would check and get back to her.

I called my parents and asked my mother if we were going to do something for Thanksgiving and she said there wasn’t anything planned and she didn’t have a turkey.
I told her we didn’t need turkey and it if was that important to have a turkey were could always staple a couple of chicken drumsticks to a ham thus reinforcing the idea that pigs can fly.
My father said we could have a BBQ and maybe throw lasagna in the oven, so it was settled.

I called the EX and told her she could show up at my place for 1 pm on Monday and dinner at 2 pm at my mother’s.
She thanked me and hung up.
I don’t really like my EX anywhere near me but I have to suck it up because of the kids.

No sooner had I hung up from her buddy called me up and said he was going to take me up on his offer.
It seems his lady friend has a boyfriend.
He showed up with in the hour and we got back into the beer and watched some westerns on the TV.
He said that it was nice to watch a TV where the picture didn’t fade in and our like the one he and his father were stuck watching.
I sat there thinking for a little while and told him I had an idea.

We didn’t party for to long as he passed out around eleven and I found myself running solo once more, as usual.
I sat up until 2 am reading some of your blogs and trying to leave comments that didn’t sound French.
In the morning around 10 am I stood by the window counting out $150 as buddy was loading my brother’s 32 inch TV in his car.

The next day I was getting ready for some football when the damn doorbell rang and it was the EX with my kids.
She came in and sat next to me on the couch while the girls went next door to be spoiled by their grand parents.
She asked me if I had a beer for her to drink.
I fished her a beer from the fridge while I had a coke.
I had more than enough the day before and I don’t like drinking when she is around because she is a bad drunk and I don’t care to be caught flatfooted when she is drinking.
The kids don’t like her drinking either because of the trouble she starts when she is pissed.
After about an hour of her babble my mother called to go next door for dinner.

It was here that I started feeling a little suspicious of what was going on around me or I was being paranoid but which ever it was I rather be safe than sorry.
The SIL kept telling my EX she looked beautiful.
I don’t mean one but ten times and loud enough so everyone could hear.
After dinner I went next door to my place to rest my back as it was killing me and they both followed me to my place and I had to listen to a bunch of crap coming from my SIL like how the EX was a wonderful person.
That’s because she didn’t have to wake up to Lizzie Borden when she ran out of whiskey.

The Ex asked me for some beer and did the SIL another bad drunk, so I got them one each and watched they drain their bottle one after the other while I drank water.
It was about this time the kids came in and said they were going to the movies.
The EX asked if they wanted her to go along but they said no she could stay here.
HELLO, do I get to vote?
It is an election year you know.
Sop they left and I was stuck with two drunks, I mean one because the SIL decided it was time to leave and my EX seemed to sink deeper into the couch.
Needless to say, I didn’t like where this was going.

She asked for another beer and if I would smoke her a joint.
Hmmmm
OK, I rolled a joint and thought how to get rid of her because she was to fucken comfortable and it took me 7 years the last time to get rid of her when she got drunk.
When the joint was rolled I passed it to her and asked her if she would like a shooter of something a friend had brought me as a gift.
Not being one to refuse booze she said sure.

It pays to know the enemy and what their limitations are.
My ex could drink but I knew she didn’t have the stomach for 180 proof Absinth and she didn’t.
The beer, dinner and everything else she had in her stomach fountained out of her mouth and into a garbage can I keep next to the couch.
She was looking greener than a Martian snorting asparagus and doing the Linda Blair better than, Linda Blair.
Then she passed out cold for about an hour.

When she woke up I asked her if she was ok and she said she was.
Then I passed the bowl of tarama (Smelly fish caviar) and asked if she wanted some and she started puking in the pail again.
I guess not eh.
Then I offered to drive her home and she said that would be nice and I called my father to tell him I needed the car.
My mother said she put some of the leftovers in containers for her to take home with her too.
I told her to put some of that caviar in to because the EX loved it.

So that was my weekend, I hope yours was just as quiet.

Have a nice day

Walker