Now that I’ve resigned my self concerning the failure of my plans to vacate this flea-infested swamp for the West Texas Desert, I can kick-start my case against sharing the kitchen with the Nasty Old Racist and Sexist Christian Cracker down the hall, who has fallen twice with minor strokes, and his family won’t put him in a nursing home instead of assigning me the responsibility of providing Home Health Aide Services, and uncompensated expenses for yogurt, etc.
Yup! Back to the Mission at hand. The Desert can wait another two years, cuz this old geazer can’t live much longer. I’ve told him that I am too handicapped to get down on the floor to give him air.
He’s not too handicapped to walk a block to the store and back, but he keeps forgetting to get rolling papers for our tobacco habit, after I gave him $5 to get a few, OR he comes back with ONE pack!!! DamnedDementia!!!!!
The OldGeezerCracker has gotten a pacemaker installed, and says he feels better then he has in years. So I am relieved of duty, and can escape to the dry winter desert anytime before the damp swampy cold wreaks havoc on my ailing joints.Winter clothes are still packed and ready to go.
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