You Bitch!
20th of November, 2017

About

Rube

An Advanced and Magical Blogger at an Unbelievable Price!

Latest Comments

Sturm

Drang

Broodlings

G'scheits - German Blogging

Archives

2003
Mar
2003
Apr May Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2004
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2005
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2006
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2007
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
2008
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun
Jul Sep Oct Nov Dec
2009
Jan Feb Apr May Jul
2010
Jan Feb Mar Apr Jun
Sep Nov
2011
Jan Oct
2012
Feb Jul Sep
2013
Jan Apr
2014
Mar
2015
Jun
Nov Dec
2016
Jul

Horrifying


Today is D-1 Day. Tomorrow, Vaterstaat will decide whether or not he wants to disown me, sending me off to live with my Uncle Sam; who, for better or worse, could really give a fuck. Uncle Sam has never really shown me the love that Vaterstaat does. Oh, I know, a real loving, Ozzie and Harriet-style father wouldn’t take three fourths of everything I earn, kick me out of my apartment, threaten to jail me, then deport me. But it’s tough love, you know? He wants what’s best for me, is all.


But then again, what is the best for me? Jump-starting is not the best way to get a car going, but sometimes it’s the only way. Well, you can always roll-start it; but I heard that’s bad for the catalytic converter, whatever that is. What would I do if they kicked me out of the country? First of all, I’ll exchange my Euros for some sort of stable currency, like Chinese Yuan, something with some worth to it. Then, I’m going on an x-day bender, x being the number of days they give me to go on said bender. Then, I’ll sell my snowboard, I guess. Not much use for that thing in Woodstock, Georgia I’ll wager. Then I’ll call ahead for a reservation at the Wade Green Waffle House for the week covering December 13-19; on second thought, just save that back table for me 24/7 until further notice, girls, the boy’s got a grits-deficiency to take care of.


Where does one go from here? I’ve been on the road now for damn near seven years. You can’t go home again. I tried once, and that was an abject failure. As scary as it is to lose everything, once it happens, you’ve got a lot of freedom. You’ve nothing to lose, and every option is open. All you need’s a plan, and that will come in time.


Why couldn’t this have happened before the Jawja Blogfest? At least then I could’ve gotten my ass kicked at half-rubber, only to exact my sweet, sweet revenge with a rough-and-tumble game of street hockey. Now there is a sport of kings.

Comments

Sandy

If you get to stay in Germany and if you're ever near me...well honey I'll cook you some grits. We eat them everyday in my house and sometimes I even make some red=eye gravy...Sure hope things work out for you.

Velociman

A few of us are having the holidays redux in Athens Saturday. We'll drink in your honor, and send pictures. It was supposed to be on the QT till Acidman ran his fucking mouth. Now The Bride knows I'n not going on a business trip. Fuck!

Rube

Telephone, telegraph, tell a cracker. Can you still write it off, though?

Drink one for me, and make mine a Bourbon. Kickin' Chicken 101, if they've got it. No Maker's Mark, however; that stuff gives me gas.

Leave a Comment

    • This field is required.
    • This field is required.
    • This field is required.
  • Comments use Markdown syntax. HTML may be stripped. Preview is your friend.
  • Akismet