They're Back in Town plus one

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This is Cheddar







He has Fleas and Pees blood.



He's staying with my Sister so that my youngest sister can have maintenance come by her apartment.

What's more is that he's not even my youngest sister's cat! He's crashing at her apartment while his owner (who is couch surfing with her baby) stays with friends who don't allow cats.


And even more retarded: My youngest sister also lives in a place that does not allow cats.



Cheddar used to stay in an apartment that allowed cats, but the people who lived there got fleas. So their cat and Cheddar both got smashed hard with flea treatments until they both started peeing blood.

Once both the cats started to pee blood, they decided to take their cat to the vet... and they told Cheddar to hit the road.



So now he lives with my youngest sister, who took him to the vet - but tonight - he's hiding out at my other sister's house, so maintenance doesn't find out about him.



Obviously when maintenance walks into my youngest sister's apartment, the house is going to stink so bad, he'll write her up for something.

Trust me, there are lots of different things that the maintenance guy is going to smell.

First of all, this guy- click here Whom, this weekend, my dad bailed out of jail.
On the grounds that he delete all the "other bitches," (who aren't my sister) out of his iphone (which my dad hooked up) and also cut his dreadlocks off (which he didn't cuz my sister told him not to.)


Then if not the cat stink that comes with a cat who pees blood, then the maintenance guy will definitely smell the odors of the...

Homeless people that are burning trash in the fire place!

(I shit you not, every word in that sentence is true.)



A 20 year old mooch, her 23 year old ex con "husband," and their 18 year old baby are now crashing on pillows in the living room while happily unemployed.

The baby was 7 months in gestation the last time they "lived," at my youngest sister's place. They ended up leaving town, after never paying rent and now they're back with the baby, who's surprisingly much heavier than we thought it'd be (because - you know... glug glug glug, puff puff puff).

And it's not like they're hard-case homeless people, who went feral on the streets and are instinctively burning trash for warmth, they're just sloppy, trashy fuckers who are too lazy to take trash to the dumpsters. But they fucking drink behind the dumpsters because Dreadlocks is in recovery and the house has rules.



Oh, and I guess that a drug free household only applies to certain drugs because they went ahead and used my youngest sister's kitchen to make Mushroom Fudge.



According to my sister, they didn't mince the shrooms at all, so it looks sorta like this.









I told my youngest sister the same thing I told her last time they moved into her apartment.

"You know they're not gonna pay rent, right?"

But she assured me that this time around, they were getting state benefits for having a baby, so they'd be able to kick down rent. So now they're welcome guests who can break BOTH the dishwasher (clogged with food) and the Washer (tilted from being too full) which is why maintenance is coming.


While maintenance is over, the "homeless" people have to stay with moochy's mom. (Whom they should be staying with anyway - but it's a pride thing - as evident by moochy's famous line "Fuck you mom, don't talk to me like that, I'm Pregnant! I'm a grown ass bitch now!")



Unfortunately, the benefits thing isn't working out. Who would have thought that when you leave Arizona, that Arizona would stop paying for your rent and your kid's daycare?

Not that they needed daycare. They didn't have fucking jobs! Seriously they just took their kid to daycare for 8 hours a day while they chilled at home and lamented over having a child.

From what I've heard, state subsidized daycare was the only parenting that this 18 month old was getting.



Seriously, these are (all of) his toys:




(hopefully they'll wash this after they end up needing to use it)




(I'm pretty sure they'll never "need" this)




(It's a rattle)

It Takes A Village

My last visit to Disney land was close to ruined by all the crying children. How the fuck does a child come to cry in Disney land?

Always curious about the result of mixing cookies with spankings (would it make one love spankings, or hate cookies?) I've come to find that mixing Disney land with crying children has made me Revel in a child's discontent.

What's more, I love telling kids to "Cut it out," in public.

About a year ago, this woman and her kid sort of cut in front of me and the girlfriend, at a papa murphy's. She did the old While-this-couple-is-deciding-I'll-just-read-the-menu-where-you're-supposed-to-order thing.

So while I was glaring at the back of the bitches head, her kid starts zipping around and decides to get all autonomous at the soda cooler.



One after another, the kid starts budging the caps on the bottles, and I can hear each one hiss from all the way across the store.

"Hey Ivan," I grumble, repeating what I heard his mom call him. "Cut it out," I say in a tone to make it stick.

His mom turned back to smile and chuckle at me the way one does when encountering a loquacious, aging meth-addict.

"He's breaking the seal on the bottles," I inform her.

She looked like this



Only more skeptical. And she squeals "He's thrEEEee!" in the whiny tone which a mom who looks like that would use. "Some ADULTS aren't even strong enough to open those!" she challenged.

"Well," I walked to the cooler, "He opened this one, this one, and this one..." I told her as I squeezed each bottle, "But he didn't open this one." The last, one keeping it's firm composure the way a bottle for sale should.

The kid clutched his mother's leg while she and I stared at each other. Then she turned to the counter and ordered the three bottles her kid picked to fuck up.

I came in my pants. And then I left like some super-hero recess-teacher with an endless pad of D-slips.



Weeks ago I was at Costco doing the whole Put-half-my-food-in-front-of-my-sister-because-$10-does-so-much-damage-in-the-cafe-that-if-all-the-food-I-was-planning-to-eat-was-in-front-of-me-I'd-look-like-one-of-those-fat-microsoft-guys-in-a-wolf-pack-shirt thing.

Seven dollars down, I slide "My sister's food" to my side of the table,



and my sister goes "That kid is wasting onions."

I look across the cafe and see some kid cranking away on the onion machine



watching the business-end shit out onions.


"Hey Kid!" I belt out with a mouth full of polish. "Cut it out."

Every Asian in the place stared at me... but the kid stopped and looked around.

Then the kid started up again - so of course - "HEY KID! Cut It OUT!"

It just so happens that Mother-of-the-year was standing right beside me with her cart. She called him over and made me come in my pants.

"You're not getting any ice cream!"
"No!" he cried. And in his upright tantrum comes bouncing out his mouth "But I really Want it!"

I smiled because my food suddenly tasted better.



Anyhow, this barefoot little shit makes me feel like a dog that's been told not to bark at the TV.




And this one makes me gleeful because I hate shitty parents and their prodigies.