I got Crabs!

I got crabs

organ donor time

hot beef injection is here

talking about ham

So I just wanted to share with you all that I got crabs. 2 little fiddler crabs from the local Wal-Marts. They are adorable, but I should have done some more research on them... I put them in my tank and watched them scurry around, and then one of my fish, an African cichlid that I bought because it was a pretty fish, promptly moseyed over and ate one of their claws off. The worst part of this whole ordeal is the crab then turned toward me and just stood there, and I dunno if you have ever looked at a crab but they always look sad, but this one looked like I had just....well, just put him in a tank to die. I almost started crying, I felt horrible. I have a 10 gallon tank in the basement that I am gonna clean up and probably put them in, crap I'm a jerk.

Anyway, as we all know (and I am sure care) Sunday was my birthday. Yes, it's true, yer old pal Stevester turned a delectable 29, and I feel every friggin bit of 70, except I can still get it up and I don't shit myself...yet.

Anyway, the day started with my mom and JJ calling me at 7:00AM and yelling "Happy Birthday" into the phone, then laughing and hanging up. I of course did a great Danny Glover impression by saying "I'm gettin' too old for this shit"... the awkward part was when they guy with the greasy jeri curl with the sax played that little hook from Lethal Weapon and then walked out the garage (for Prit, that's "gair-awjj").

Anyway, after receiving phone calls from my whole family, I get up and that's when it hits me. Smeagol. The raptor. The Life-Stealer. The Thong-Wearer... known by many names, answering to none.

I get a call, and it's him. Foolish foolish me, I assumed he was calling to tell me happy birthday, which would have been a nice change, but as we all know Smeagol never does anything unless it will benefit him.

"Hey Niggie, how you doin well enough of the small talk I got a computer from Rent-A-Center and I need some help with it" he moaned sassily, I can only assume scratching another barnacle out of his thong.

Before I go any further, I must explain something to those of you who read this blog who are not IT techs:

For the most part, we enjoy our jobs. Some, like me, got into the field simply to make money and become useful members of society, while others found a way to make money doing something they love. We also love our family and friends, and every once in awhile do not mind helping with a technical issue if they need assistance with it.

But make no mistake, it is still work for us. My uncle is a mechanic, and I used to call him all the time asking idiotic questions about my car and what was wrong with it, never realizing he didn't want to come home from working on cars all day to work on more cars. It is the same with your IT friends. We don't mind helping you, and sometimes even if we do the genuine love and friendship and good will will outweigh our annoyance with working on your computer, but there are a few ground rules:

1. Don't make the call for computer help the ONLY fucking time you contact us.

2. Don't EXPECT us to jump at the chance to remove all of your split beaver shemale porn.

3. No matter how well you try to hide the nasty shit you put on your machine, during the normal course of things we will find it unless you delete it.

4. I dunno about my colleagues, but we do NOT enjoy "being alone with all that techy stuff", and will more often than not get annoyed when you go in the other room and enjoy your day like I am a fucking plumber. Bitch you ain't fuckin paying me, the least you can do is entertain me.

5. Don't assume that because we CAN that we WANT to.

6. You are not the only asshole who calls me for technical help. I WILL answer people who are not pushy a LOT sooner than you. If you don't follow any of the above rules, I will NEVER answer you and put you off until I get annoyed with your calls or the next holiday when you inevitably corner me and ask why I ignore your calls all the time.

Sorry, BTW I am not talking about anyone who reads this site, mostly I am talking about a couple people in my family, it's REALLY annoying when they call 1 time every other year and it's only so I can remove all the gay porn their kid downloaded onto their computer, "completely without my knowledge", which is why it is in the quicklist on WIndows Media player. RIIIIi-i-ight...

Anyway, this post is about Smeagol, so back to the story. He calls and after I spend an excellent 15 minutes walking him through getting his computer configured and set up, he remarks that he needs a mouse. There is a long pause as I wait for him to ask where to get one, or what kind he needs...

....and am wrong. "...so... if you can bring me one, that would be great niggie." I blink a few times as the realization sinks in. What?! This fuckin' raptor wants me to bring him a mouse. A mouse. a 3 dollar fucking mouse. He wants me to get in my FUCKING car, on my FUCKING birthday, and drive for a half hour to bring him a mouse. You know what, fuck it. I do it. Because I am a spineless piece of shit who will bend over backwards to help my family out, I fucking do it. Well also because I wanted to know what was up with that raptor so I would have something fresh to post. It's also a lovely drive from Smithville to Liberty via the back roads, so I pack the kids up, grab a mouse and head out. I leave at 2:08PM on Sunday, with the full intent on being back at 3:00PM to watch the Chiefs play the Raiders.

I get to Smeagol's coven, tell the boys that we are not going to be there for very long, walk in, ignore his "Thank you so much" as I know the thank yous will not replace the 5 bux I spent in gas money driving over there, plug the mouse in and prepare to leave. Then Smeagol notices my oldest son holding a Harry Potter book. This is significant, because had he not taken that fucking book inside I would have happily enjoyed the rest of my day Smeagol-free. And yes I am blaming the ruination of my and my dad's day on my 9 year old son.

Smeagol pounced on him, talking about wizard school, Hagrid and all manner of fantasy nerd bullshit (I say this knowing I installed and am currently playing Dungeons & Dragons Unlimited on my computer - it's free!), even comparing books and plot twists. THis does 2 things: It gets me thinking maybe Smeagol is not so much of a douche, and keeps me close by long enough for him to lay his question on me:

"Hey niggie, you aren't going by Mom's house are you? I need tog et down there because I have orientation tomorrow..."

No. Not in a million years, no. My kid tells him I just filled my car up though, so I can't use that as an excuse. Think, Stevester, think!

Nothing. I tell him to call Mom and Dad, and if he can't get ahold of them, to call me after the game and I will run him down there. As I am leaving he leaves no indication that he plans to call anyone by saying "I'll see you after the game niggie!"

Fuck.

The only joy in this whole thing is going to be when my dad sees that raptor at his house and gives up HIS will to live. I get home, call my dad, ask if he will go pick Smeagol up, listen as he and JJ and my mom laugh in the background for a couple minutes then hang up on me, and realize I now can't wait to take that wily raptor down there to share in their lives and take their resources and stop up their toilet.

After the game, Smeagol of course calls, tells me he couldnt get ahold of them (I called right before he called me and he never called them), and I prepare to go pick him up. I get to his house, and I call his cell phone; I'm sorry, "Francisco"s phone, and get Mystery. I tell her to send him out as I don't want to get out of the car, then wait 10 minutes to see him hobbling out the door with a couple huge bags, and smile internally even as I get out of the car annoyed to open the trunk and help him with his bags.

The ride down to JJ's house was for the most part uneventful, except Smeagol remarking over and over how great my 1994 Dodge ran. Seriously?! I mean for all the jokes and shit I know it is a piece of crap car, I hate it when people patronize me. Notice that Smeagol still hasn't said anything close to Happy Birthday or "Hey let me give you gas money for making a 95 mile round trip"... nothing like that.

We get to JJ's, I happily take Smeagol's bags in, and grin internally as the look of joy at seeing me quickly turns to deep, face-creasing frowns for my dad, my cousin and JJ at seeing Smeagol hobble in... and head straight for the kitchen.

JJ mouths "What the fuck" as my dad just sits there, shaking his head, and I instantly feel bad for what I have done. What have these poor souls done to deserve a raptor in their lives? As we are shooting the breeze, Smeagol pokes his head around the corner and asks Dad if he can have one of his beers. The awesome thing about this is my dad's name is "Toboggan Boy" if Smeagol doesn't need anything, but it's "Daddy" or "Dad" if he needs something. My dad asks how many beers are left, as he doesn't want that raptor drinking his last one, and Smeagol walks off, supposedly to count the beers. We talk for a minute, my dad promising to drop Smeagol off at my house one of these days, and Smeagol comes back in slurping noisily at a Miller High Life, the Champagne of Beers. Dad asks how many were left, and Smeagol holds the can up while proudly proclaiming "I took the last one!" and we all laugh and enjoy the good will and cheer as he drinks it right in front of everyone, then lets us all know he has to be at orientation on 110th and Troost (I didn't even know Troost went that far) the next day. There is no way I am going to call in to work or show up an hour early to drive that asshat all the way to fucking Joplin or wherever 110th and Troost is, and I turn and leave. Great times. I enjoy the annoyance, the genuine, unfettered annoyance everyone displayed when I took him by. They will all be REALLY surprised come Thanksgiving time.