By-Tor, the Snow Dog!
He hails from the underworld
He can save the day!
I love that song, by Rush... I have been listening to it almost nonstop for a month and have yet to get tired of it.
OK so in yesterday's post I regaled you of how greedy Smeagol was, how he got 2000 dollars from my mother, who did not have to give him anything and in all honesty probably shouldn't because he still after that would not take her anywhere unless she coughed up gas money, and how right after he tucked the envelope containing the money into his thong, he turned to JJ and I and asked us to borrow some of our money as he had his spent.
Let me go further back for those 2 people reading this blog who think this was a one time thing or that Smeagol was simply having a bad day.
Mom got her settlement in September. Now many times she would say something like she might be getting a settlement and how she planned on giving us money, and I always took it with a grain of salt, being polite but not believing her as she smoked crack rocks. Smeagol completely believed the story and would call me and JJ every other day to speculate and make sure he was the first one to know when she got her money and how much it was, always calling all breathless "Awwwwwwwwwwwwshiiittt niggie, I heard Mom got her check, we need to get down there, I got stuff I need to get!" or "Hey niggie I heard Mom got her check and took it all and went to (insert more and more improbable location on the planet here) so she didn't have to share it!" When I would try to point out how strange that sounded or that even if she did somehow drive to Greenland it was her money and her choice, he would grunt disapprovingly and hang up.
Smeagol's obsession with attaining money for nothing, or maybe it was making money off Mom's misery, became more pronounced as the days past. His face got uglier, the lines in his permanent scowl deepening, his raptor scuffle more and more pronounced, his calls more and more urgent.
Finally the day had arrived. This no talent ass hat calls me at 6 in the morning on a Saturday! "Mom's got her money! OooOoOoh shit niggie I need to get down there!" I could almost hear his raptor rage as he gunned his beat up car and floored it over to Mom's house. You see, Smeagol had stopped paying his bills, and had been pretty much just lurking in the dark corners of his house, working contract short term jobs (meaning 3 or 4 days at a time) in order to eat. He had totally relied on her giving him 5 grand, even though she had said 2. Unlike himself, he had put total faith and trust in my mom, and her ability, through her donation, to pull him our of debt.
So my mom calls me soon after, and asks me to come down to get the money. I am still not comfortable, like I said I hate getting anything from anyone, as I feel like I owe them (I have had to go down on people for paying my way at lunch before, and I'm not proud of it- especially Grandma), but I acquiesce and head on down.
I get there, and Smeagol is tactfully counting the money right in front of her, telling her he wanted to make sure it was all there, and also asking if he could crash at her place for a couple of days. This is another tact of Smeagol. If you have money, he will stay at your house or as close by as he can get until the money is gone. He will look at you pitifully, all of his numerous aches and pains will become even worse, his howls of pain more pronounced when his double-stockinged feet touch carpet, until you either give him the money or spend it all on crap just to get him to leave.
Dammit, duty calls. More Monday, unless you would rather hear more about some scams.