Hot damn, another post! If this post reads like it was put together hastily by a hungover jackass trying to kill time while not paying attention at a legal training seminar, that’s only because it was hastily put together by a hungover jackass trying to kill time while not paying attention at a legal training seminar.
I was sort of laughing at the absurdity of my job the other day. Not the job itself so much as what passes for a “slow day.” Somebody asked me how my day was, and I replied that it was really slow and uneventful. I was being completely honest, but the more I thought about that day, the silliness of calling it uneventful hit me.
Part of my morning involved coming across this little lady.
Some dickhole tied her with a rope to a pole that ran up a viaduct that trains pass over.
Who knows the reason, but the dog was in pretty good shape (for a north St. Louis stray) and at least had the shade of the viaduct to keep her from the oppressive sunshine.
I tried to get close to her, but she wasn’t having any part of it past about six feet.
It was actually pretty funny. If I was at five feet, she growled, but if I took one step back, she’d stop. I’d step forward, she’d growl, then back and she’d stop. I fucked with her like this for several minutes because it was amusing and I’m an immature fucktard.
Thankfully for old girl, the local Stray Rescue of St. Louis group came and got her. They’ll find her a good home. Oh, and I was totally not offended that she let the young lady who came to get her walk right up to her without regard for the arbitrary six foot barrier that I was subject to. Bitches, what can you do?I think that woman smelled like dogs or had hot dogs in her pocket.
It was such a slow day, that I was able to sneak away for some lunch. There are a million places to eat in North City, if you like Chop Suey, Tripe, Snoots, gas station fare or fast food. I’m not a huge fan of any of them, so I eat Subway nearly every single workday. I could totally make my own sandwich at home, yes, but I’m just so lazy and the Subway is half off.
I took my usual footlong club to one of my spots, only to find that my normally desolate spot was not as desolate as usual. Somebody had left this baby parked there.
Somebody’s car done been burnt to a crisp and left here, probably because it was too hot to tow the night that it was left here by the fire department. It’d make a nice flowering pot or something, for somebody whose HOA allows such monstrosities in their yards.
My slow day was briefly interrupted by a woman calling to report a burglary in her house.
This was the cleanest room in this house.
There is a whole mess of a story about this call that I won’t get into, but suffice to say it’s supposed to be a vacant house and nobody should be living there and calling to report burglaries.
The woman wasn’t having any part of hearing why the house wasn’t habitable or why she had to leave. I assure you that this picture doesn’t do justice to how deplorable the rest of it was. At least this room was dry.
My slow day ended with my dumb ass running after bad guys in the 100 degree heat. Bad guys crashed a BMW into some parked cars right in front of some nice church ladies. I had no intention of running after people half my age for crashing a car, but the ladies were very persistent and excited so I ran.
Well, I jogged.
Hey, it’s hard to look fleet of foot with twenty pounds of gear on.
It turned out that the BMW was, of course, stolen. Alas, the chase was for naught as bad guys got away. Is that a word?
I will say that I got close to nabbing one of them, but dummy ran through a back yard and woke a sleeping dog, a very large, sleeping dog when he sprinted past it. When I came after him, Gigantor was no longer sleeping and was now standing and very curious about what was transpiring in his backyard.
Thankfully, the dog was tethered to something or other so he couldn’t go where he wanted to (i.e. where I was now standing after coming to an immediate halt). Unfortunately, now that I was drenched in sweat and huffing and puffing, that was the end of this guy (me) running any farther on this slow day.
There’s always next time.
While I was enjoying this slow shift at work, I was missing one of my favorite tasks, coaching Cool and the gang on the baseball field. It’s not so much coaching when they’re that age as it is what I imagine herding cats is like and keeping them between the lines.
Still, it’s cute.
Ha, even standing on the base and wearing a giant helmet, poor Cool is tiny next to this girl his own age.
Anyway, the “uneventful” day I had earned me some good time lime time, so I spent yesterday with a longtime friend who was visiting from Washington. He came to town with his lady friend and her chillens and we hung at our neighborhood pool.
Mercifully, lady friend and her older kids amused my boys by taking turns helping to fix their goggles 157 times during the course of four hours because they don’t stay where they should for reasons I can’t pinpoint.
I still had to take Gman to the bathroom 49 times and get up to feed all of them snacks another 492 times.
Despite all the trips to the head while at the pool, Gman still decided to piss like a racehorse all over the floor when we got home. Not to be outdone, Jojo shat in the kitchen while we were trying to have dinner. Oh, then she ate a good chunk of it before anyone realized what was going on.
She ate her own shit in front of our guests, yes.
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!? was basically my response.
My unmarried, childless friend no doubt appreciated my contribution to reinforcing his decision to not reproduce.
Disgusted, tired and drunk, I finally called it a night before I had to witness another excretion from another body part from another creature. Good times.