An annoying truth
an angry wife trumps black belt
You will lose that fight
Smeagol, Angelina, ?
So we get out to Smeagol's house and meet Angelina and her sister, who is actually kind of cute in that trailer-trash she-must-have-a-disease way, her lip with the telltale sore on the corner showing she had either cut her lip or had walked by Smeagol. Smeagol was lounging on the couch, his thong in full display, grunting unhappily because I was interrupting the movin' pictures (he loves him some wrastlin').
I walk in, feeling like a complete douche, and try to see what the hell is going on: "Hey, Mom said you got your ass whooped and was living in the basement."
I got the Smeagol growl of disapproval, and he informed me that she had knocked him onto the floor for talking shit to her. Angelina moseyed into their bedroom while he was talking, and some huge beefy dude, you know the kind, the ones with the barb wire tattoo and who wear Hawaiian shorts, even in the wintertime, and have the blond highlights and try to do everything "extreme", moseys out of their bedroom. Smeagol glances at him unapprovingly, and then decides to finish eating his tomato slices swimming in what looks like a cool whip container filled with Ranch dressing. SSSSSCCCCHLLLUUUUUUUURRRRRPPP!
The smell in his house is enough to make a mule shit itself, so JJ and I leave. It would not be the only time Angelina had whooped up on him, or the only time we had to save Smeagol from what was probably a well-deserved beating.
Later, as we were helping him move, I noticed in his dark, smelly basement, a cot with a ratty blanket on it in the corner, tucked away. Although I did not see the Failure Boundary, an invisible barrier that can kill all living things that enter it, I assumed it was Smeags'. I instantly felt sorry for him, and wanted to help him as much as I could. Until those damn maggots fell out of the fridge. Fucking nasty buzzard.
This brings me to another point. Why would my mom help Smeagol after all he has done to her? They worked at the same nursing home, and even when Smeagol was going to HER fucking house after work to eat her food or crash because his utilities were off again, he refused to drive her unless she gave him gas money. He stranded her numerous times, sometimes because he couldn't beat a tough level on Castlevania on his Playstation, or she had disturbed his pre-bedtime post- dinnertime nap, or wrestling was on.
Smeagol will only help you if there is something in it for him. If you were on fire, and Smeagol was bailing water out of his car as it was flooding 5 feet away, he would intentionally throw the water the other way unless you offered him money or sexual favors. Unless you were hot, then you could get away with allowing him to sniff your vagina in exchange for his entire paycheck, not unlike Arnold Schwarzenegger. I know that is not the correct spelling, you know who I am talking about.
Anyway, Special post Monday, to all a great weekend full of PBR or your favorite brew, drink it by the pint yall!
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