 Happy Cinco de Mayo, mi amigos! And what a weird one it is.
So I got my article regarding The Trump campaign in Indiana back to MAD Magazine early yesterday morning. All I heard is that the article was accepted for publication. When I asked about payment for writing the article, the person I was speaking with promptly hung up on me. I was hoping to get an advance on the payment because I soon discovered that my wallet is missing. No ID, no cash, no cards, no Cousin Fred. I’ve not seen him since about 3AM Wednesday morning. I’m trying to get back to The Compound by this afternoon so I can attend the Twister Alley Film Festival schmooze fest and feed tonight. I’m hopeful there will be someone there with whom I can discuss my screenplay. Currently, I’m on a bench outside a Cracker Barrel restaurant on the west side of St. Louis. Got this far by hitching a ride with a trucker who drives caskets from a factory in Indianapolis down to a distribution center in St. Louis. The inside of his cab was adorned with beautiful calligraphy spelling out “Boxes O’ Death R Us – God Bless America!” The driver was headed up to Omaha, so this was the end of line for me. He did toss me a bologna and jelly on rye sandwich, so at least I have something to eat. There’s an electrical outlet next to the bench so I’m able to keep my iPad charged. Things could be worse I suppose. The Nephew is going to swing through and pick me up. He’s on his way back to Cosmic City from a run down in Middle Tennessee. This is way out of his way, but I’m family so he’s willing to do it. We’ll be hard pressed to get back to town in the time for the schmooze fest, but The Nephew assures me that he can do it. Will be happy to get back to The Compound and its accompanying peace and tranquility. Fortunately, I don’t have any neighbors for at least a mile in any direction. So I guess I won’t have the kinds of problems that a woman in York County, PA had with a neighbor whose very vocal sexual activity was terrorizing those in the townhouse next to her. The woman who finally, after two years, couldn’t take it anymore and called the cops – we’ll call her Peggy Puritanical – said she did all she could to ask her very vocal neighbor – we’ll call her Susie Screamer – to tone it down. It seems that Susie’s bedroom wall abuts the bedroom of Peggy’s two teenage daughters. When police arrived they witnessed (heard) Susie “loudly fornicating and banging around her bedroom causing the victim’s own dresser and bed shake.” Peggy told police that Susie during sex often loudly described what was happening so graphically that Peggy was forced to issue noise-cancelling headphones to her girls. Over the past year, Peggy did her best to talk to Susie and to Susie’s grandmother WHO ALSO LIVES IN THE HOUSE, but to no avail. Every night Susie’s Sexual Sircus would start up again. Things came to a head (pardon the pun) in January when one of Peggy’s daughters was seriously ill and had to be isolated in her room for rest. According to Peggy, Susie had nonstop sex for 10 days, making certain her daughter could hear it all. Police arrested the woman and charged her with disorderly conduct and harassment. She was sentenced to 90 days in the county jail. She gets out June 20. Hmmmm…well that’s at least 90 days of quiet for Peggy and her family, Susie’s grandmother (she’s probably deaf anyway), and whatever manner of boyfriend(s) Susie was abusing in there – he/they probably needed the break. This, in a state that has actual towns called, Big Beaver, Blue Ball, and Intercourse – I’m not making that up! I hear the sound of thrash metal in the distance. Guessing The Nephew is close at hand. Comments are closed.
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