About a month or two back the CrankyFatBastid and I were in the realms of ecstasy thinking we were getting close to blowing this Half-WittedGinJoint and all it‘s attractants. Now after many episodes of giddiful-highs and plummeting-lows, we are at the stage of…If it happens, it bloodywell happens…Yeah, hum ke sera seraah. If this land and home is supposed to be ours, then it will be. FuckIT not wasting any more headaches and hopes on it, til we know something more concrete. Yeah. Concrete as in when they are pouring the bloody foundation.

Until then, I will continue acclimatising myself and talking about the many breeds of stupidity that surrounds and flows by me.

My father-in-law being one of the many bulls in this pack of useless fucking idiots…and I would say that more kindly, as in OhBlessHisHeart, but the motherfucker came downstairs last night, just as I was getting ready for bed and turned the 30 year old, bangs like the town slut, dryer on at ten PM. Full of jeans and other loud clothing. FuckMeDead! It drove me outside, to sit and smoke, swatting at the mozzies, while trying to unclench me teeth as I plotted his downfall. Yeah, as in a basement stairs downfall. Ack. Don’t worry, the man will live to be a hundred. It’s all us other poor buggers that will be half-dead. Half-dead by thumping ourselves and each other upside the head over him.

A week or so back we had the LazyRedHeadedStepSisterInLaw‘s bestie come to stay a few days. I believe they expected my cup of joy to runneth over at the news of her visit. They expected too bloody much. Her nickname is Odie, like the dog from Garfield. Between the CrankyFatBastid and I, I call her Oddie. She’s another flounder in the Sea of Stupids. It’s not that I dislike the manwoman. She’s just highly annoying. A little bit of Oddie goes a long bloody way. Although, I do adore looking at her and watching her facial expressions as they collide about her face.

She’s an attention seeker. Craves it from my husband. This gives me a laugh. As his tolerance for the stupid people is pretty paper thin at the best of times. He believes that’s because he lives it 24/7. Last time she visited, he had to get on her about pounding up and down the basement stairs as her footfalls literally shook the bloody house. You can imagine how it is, to be living in my HellandTarnation room in the basement and have that heavyfooted wildebeast go traversing all around the upstairs.

The CrankyFatBastid likes to sit at the kitchen table. It‘s like he‘s in the cockpit viewing everything that goes on around him. Smoking. Drinking coffee. Watching the telly. Answering the phone. Seeing out both the front and back door. Usually, without fail she’ll come clomping up the hall to stand within vision of him. With a one handed jutted hip pose and head flicking her mullet over a shoulder in what I imagine she thinks is a totally come-hither, bringing sexy back, stance. After a minute or five of holding this pose she’ll open her mouth to further enhance the Look and blurt out anything to divert his attention from the telly.

This time she added the front door as a prop. She'd come out repeatedly to stand at it, gazing out, while her hands in her pockets pulled her pj bottoms tight across her arse. I cracked up *knowing* what she was thinking/hoping…Yeaaah. He’s coping an eye-full, he wants me and my fine ass! He said he shoulda pulled down his pants and sat tugging on MrBig while grunting behind her. And really I’m kinda surprised that he didn’t.

Yesterday, we had a home visit from Louie. Something told me Louie would not be well received, mainly because I heard the FatCrankyOne say something about useless, stupid and motherfucker when he pulled up. Now, Louie I have not had the pleasure of experiencing close-hand, other than driving by as he stood, squinting, on a corner. Funny I heard my husband mutter similar terms then also.

Anyway, all I can say is, thank Bubbha fer sunglasses. I was able to scrutinise his every action, nuance and form. I tell ya I couldn‘t take me eyes off him. Spectacular!

He’s a thinning black hair over five foot, with the figure of a eight-months pregnant women whose expecting twins. Large coke-bottle glasses, framed in gold. Large gold watch, with the expanding metal band [Ha! Hillbillie Pimp]. He wore his pants up near his armpits. His tee-shirt raised at the back, while the front was continually tugged and pulled down accentuating his man boobies. His rapid-fire speech consisted of less consonants. Luckily I’ve had some practice at this, many here use the same alphabet. My father-in-law and next door neighbour being just some of them.

After each sentence, he’d give his watch arm a few shakes, then he’d raise up a pudgy finger to push his sliding down glasses back up his face. His now magnified piggy eyes would squint and blink like a wounded butterfly, refocusing through the new view and then he would laugh. Good Bubbha I have never heard or seen such a sound and sight of it. On his third laugh I couldn’t help but laugh back. This only heightened and extended his laughing pleasure as he started to rock about on his heels. He looked like one of those air filled punching things, that bounce back on a sand based bottom. Which of course made me laugh more. Which led him into another laughing fit.

After Louie was saved ushered away by my mother-in-law I said to the CrankyFatOne…He’s got your smile…Louie too was missing part of his front grill. Yeah. He didn’t find that as funny as I did.