Sorry, I didn’t post a column last week, but I was in St. Louis all weekend.
I didn’t want to go, but the ol’ lady packed up a suitcase put it in the car and then lured me into the car with sugar cubes. To me, sugar is like a flower to a bee…I just follow to get that sweet nectar. Next thing I knew, we were half way to Kansas City on the way to St. Louis. The drive was quite pleasant, except when we stopped for dinner at McDonalds in Missouri. We ordered and handful of hamburgers and stuff and jumped back on the interstate. When we unpacked our meal and started eating, we found the hamburgers had NO meat.
It was truly a “Where’s the beef?” moment.
So we ate our bread, ketchup, and paper thin pickle sandwiches, courtesy of McDonalds and kept driving.
Anyways we got home Sunday and there was no time to write my column.
Stephen is all up-in-arms about the first meme I created and said some very hurtful things. It’s on the TheWeirdcrap.com and on facebook if you want to take a look. It would be nice if a few people added some comments rejecting his internet bullying. By the way, if you like us on facebook, all your hopes, aspirations, and dreams will come true.
Speaking of dreams, The week before last Stephen revealed that it was in fact, he, who had lived in my basement and not my imagined brother-in-law Randy as mentioned in my last column.
I thought he was full of crap, but to be sure I asked the ol’ lady. Well, she confirmed that she does not have a brother. This came as quite a shock as the existence of a brother in law seemed so real. She reminded me that Stephen lived in our basement for one year and it was a nightmare.
Confused over my imaginary brother in law, I came to realize it was all because of my Colorado vacation this summer (It’s titled road trip 2018, by mistake. It was the 2021 vacation). I innocently went to one of the many thousands of candy stores at Estes Park and bought a large jar of gummy bears. It wasn’t until after the “Randy” fiasco, I thought I should take a look at the ingredients of that delicious snack item.
Yup, it had THC.
If my calculations are correct, each gummy is equal to 1/4 of a marijuana cigarette.
Well, I’ve been eating them by the handfull. That helps explain why I started the vacation a bundle of nerves and ended without a care in the world. I thought I experienced a life changing revelation about living life to the fullest, but turns out I was just stoned.
Although unaware at the time, I did transport illegal substances from Colorado to Nebraska. So I guess now I’m a drug smuggler. Although the gummies are now gone, I still feel I should turn myself into the police, as that seems like the right thing to do.
But I won’t, I’m too pretty to go to jail. They’ll put me in cell block “C” with Mr. Big, who has it good with the warden. So I say nicks to that.
About that basement pee hole. The basement always did have a weird smell to it, like a cat that has sprayed the carpet. I couldn’t figure it out, being that the carpet is new. It must have been that corner where Stephen was peeing in at night when the basement still had a dirt floor.
Now some may say its cruel to have your best/only friend stay in a basement with concrete walls and a dirt floor. But Stephen looked, acted, and smelled like a caveman. So I figured he’d fit right in.
After he left, two years later, I found the walls were filled with caveman like drawings of animals and naked women. There were also piles of random junk. Toasters, bicycles, old containers, you name it it was there. Turns out he broke one of the windows and was sneaking out at night collecting things from garbage dumpsters. There was a garden hose from outside that ran thru the broken window into the basement. It lead to a kiddie pool that he no undoubtedly stole and was using to bath in.
Then there was the smell…it must have been that pee hole. If only he would have used jars to pee in, like my imagined brother in law Rusty.
When he stayed with us, we kept the door to the basement locked at all times. At first the children cried at night when they heard him yelling swear words to himself and throwing himself against the walls. But we just figured, “That’s Stephen.”
It think we were good hosts, the door to the basement had a mailbox slot in it, which was perfect for slipping in a few pieces of beef jerky now and then, you know, so he wouldn’t starve.
Funny, he entered as a hairy cave-man like beast. But when it was time to leave, he emerged clean, perfectly refined, wearing a very smartly tailored suit.
He said he was off to get a job and off he went lickety split, just like that.
Funny how people change.
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