 Happy, happy Tuesday everybody! Hope you’re well and that your nerves are intact after two days of horrific winds here on Ceti Alpha V. One more day to go! Today, according to the very giddy weather guesser Tornado Payne-in-the-Ass last night, we’re looking at gusts to 50mph. Sheesh. Wouldn’t mind it so much if the winds came right behind the rains (think that’s the lyric).
Rough night here at The Compound. The Wife was up all night packing for her latest fabulous foreign vacation, which she is leaving on today. Note dear criminal element wannabes, she's leaving, not me…this is a heavily fortified Compound…keep moving, nothing to see here. The smell of filterless Pall Malls wafted from her room all night, at two points setting off smoke detectors. I couldn’t sleep. All of that activity was my first clue that the Wife was leaving town again. Honestly, I never know when she’s planning another trip, she likes to keep those details a secret. Keeps me off guard. Still, I’m glad she’ll be out of the house for a week or so, because… Things are heating up with the latest venture of Cousin Fred and me – namely, ghost hunting. Friend Lamont is headed here from west Arkansas along with a pile of video equipment we’ll need to shoot our pilot for our media mentor, Chick Farris. Cousin Fred has a couple of stories as to how Friend Lamont came into the video gear. The first story he told me was that Lamont used to work as a freelance videographer for a television station in Little Rock. Then, not long after, he also said that Friend Lamont used to shoot hillbilly porn when the legit news videoing slowed down. My only comment was that I hoped he had the equipment sterilized. I received no assurances in response. Great… I was kind of worried about where Friend Lamont would stay after he arrives here. So, I was a bit relieved when the Wife began making motions to go, even though Cousin Fred assures me that he added sufficient “modules” to his underground lair to accommodate our friend from Arkansas. He asked though that we keep the equipment up here in the main house. That way we won’t be constantly having to hauling stuff in and out through the entrance hatch on the north lawn. I agreed. We’ll store the stuff in the Wife’s room. I’ll worry about dealing with the cooties later. Isn’t that the way it is in life, folks? One door closes, another door opens. Am I right? Okay, not so much. I just hope that we can get the Wife out the door before Friend Lamont arrives from Arkansas. There’s no way of contacting Lamont because he doesn’t have a regular cell phone like most people nowadays. Instead, he uses a series of burn phones (has a whole box full of them). If he has to make a call, he’ll stop in the middle of a bridge and toss the darned thing over the railing. He then reaches into the box to grab another and away he goes. No one (not even Cousin Fred) can reach him. Cousin Fred has offered that he and the hairdressing hydrologist Gigi will stake out Bouse Junction and try to intercept Friend Lamont, if need be. We’ll see. And speaking of intercepting friends…sort of…did you hear the one about the Oklahoma guy who faked his own kidnapping to raise ransom money to gamble? No? Well, strap in, friends. So, this dude from Owasso disappears from home. Friends and family become concerned and notify police that Dumbass Supremo (not his real name) was missing and that they were concerned. Soon, friends and family begin receiving threatening communications, presumably texts, sent from Dumbass Supremo’s own phone. The texts include pictures of broken hands and fingers. The “kidnapper” (Dumbass Supremo) tells everyone to send money to a PayPal account or Dumbass Supremo would meet with even worse harm. A PayPal account? Really? That’s the best he could do? They’re going to take 6% off the top! So, unlike Friend Lamont who uses burn phones, Dumbass Supremo is using his own phone. Guess what? The cops are able to trace the phone’s signal and they find him sitting in a casino in Tulsa playing penny slots, sipping watered down Diet Coke, and generally enjoying life…waiting for his ship to come in. Penny slots? Sheesh, he was down on his luck. Oh, and his hands and fingers weren’t broken. Again, go figure. Dumbass Supremo has been charged with extortion, blackmail (isn’t that the same as extortion?), and reporting a false crime. Hey, maybe he can start a GoFundMe account so his friends and family can bail him out! That is all! Comments are closed.
|
Archives
March 2019
Categories |
RSS Feed