I will tell you why now and give you three reasons for this:
1- November 10th is my beloved United States Marine Corps birfday.
2- Veterans Day, November 11th.
C- Most importantly, my birfday, November 13th.
This year is extra special because I become 50 years old, which means I get additional unwanted attention from family and friends.
I just recently had to go get a Department Of Transportation physical for a new truck-driving job I will be starting soon.
This physical examination was a sexually charged affair.
As the frumpy female doctor fondled my junk and asked me to turn my head and cough, she gazed lovingly into my peepers with a flashlight and informed me that I have the beginnings of a cataract in my right shootin’ eye.
Upon hearing this, and not being very happy, I climaxed and called her a filthy whore.
She then reminded me that turning 50 soon meant that I needed to find me a petite Asian doctor with small hands to perform the much-ballyhooed colo-rectal screenings all broke-down males must endure when they get old.
We then collapsed into each other’s arms, had a smoke, and agreed neither of us would ever speak of this sordid incident again.
|She was nothing like this. She had nipples. I'm assuming...|
Anyhoo…back to shit blowing up and the reason for the season.
So Saturday I came home from work and it’s a warm day and I’m pissed and disgruntled and angry because my job sucks.
My workweek is done and I have some beer in the fridge and I commence to slam them.
I’m a light-weight, so after 4 16 ounce beers I’m feeling no pain.
I’m on a roll.
I flip off the former neighbor who returns to the area to do yard work for old folks…and whose son’s dog I shot a couple of years ago.
I talk to some of my other neighbors about the horrific election results.
I clean and check guns for the upcoming apocalypse.
Then I go to bed at 7pm because I’m tired.
My window is open a little bit for some fresh air since it’s nice out.
At about 11pm I am awakened by what sounds like a bomb blast.
The cheap aluminum casement slider window near my bed rattles, and I sit up and wonder, “Gawddam! What the fuck was that? Somebody musta REALLY slammed the front door in a fit of rage!”
It happens around my house…
Not caring a whole helluva lot, I plopped my stupid half-drunk head back down on the pillow and went back to sleep.
The next morning I awaken to find out a home in a vinyl village subdivision about 3 or 4 miles away had blown-the-fuck-up.
Anecdotal evidence suggests natural gas was the source of detonation, and the folks who lived in the house have said the furnace had been acting funky the last few days prior to the explosion.
Yes…I suppose so.
All kinds of wonks with conspiracy theories have suggested the blast was caused by a wrong mistake made while manufacturing meth-amphetamines.
Or a plane crash…
Or maybe it was a terrorist bomb…
The best theory I’ve seen was that it was a Predator drone/Hellfire missile strike gone awry!
Apparently, on the orders of the criminal Obama regime, the CIA-owned drone was on a mission to whack a couple of US Army installations in the Indianapolis area.
The US Air Force got wind of the little scheme, tracked the drone, and launched an A-6 Prowler electronic counter measures plane from Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio.
When the drone launched both of its Hellfires, the Prowler fucked up the missiles’ targeting data.
Then, the missiles went off course and slammed into the sleepy little bedroom community a few miles away from my house…killing two, injuring a dozen others, and laying waste to the area.
This theory seems a little far-fetched…even to me…a guy who, at this point, is more than willing to believe the traitor Obama would do anything to advance his socialist agenda to destroy America.
Happy birfday to me any damn way ‘cuz I’m special.