Funny about Money

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. ―Edmund Burke

Another Fine Evening in the ’Hood…

{Chortle!} One of the joys of living in the Big City is there’s never a damn dull moment.

Last night — after dark — I’m on the phone with J***, my elderly friend. Ruby flies out the back door and rips into a FLYING BATSHIT RAGE! Somebody’s in the alley, or maybe in Terri’s backyard. My .45, of course, is stashed in its hidey-hole off in the back of the house. I grab a butcher knife and fly out into the yard after her, trying to get her back in the house. She’s SO enraged she’s hearing none of it. Gawdlmighty at least you can call a damn German shepherd off!

As she’s flinging her minuscule self at the back wall (J*** is on the phone while all this is transpiring) a cop helicopter comes ROARING up the alley at rooftop level, holeeee shee-ut! This interrupts Ruby’s frenzy long enough for me to get her attention, so I manage to herd the dog inside. Lock the doors. And resume the conversation with my coreligionist.

This kind of garbage has become so routine that my little heart is not even going pitty-pat. J*** and I continue to make plans for dinner on Friday…

Pitty-pat or no, it’s damn tiresome.

I need to get a shotgun. Just don’t know where I can stash it where a) I can get at it quickly and b) the burglars can’t find it easily. Both conditions must be operative at once…which is not very practical. There’s really no place to hide a weapon where you can retrieve it quickly but the sh!theads can’t figure out where it is just as fast.

At one point when SDXB was living with me — he has quite the armory — I realized we could build a kind of box thing out of plywood that would look like a couple of step-like shelves to hold shoes. Run it along the long wall of the bedroom closet, in under the clothing. Stash our shoes on it, as though that’s what it was for. But the top of each step would actually be hinged, so that what we’d have there would be boxes disguised as shoe organizers & painted to match the wall that could hold the long guns.

He was having none of it, though. Felt stashing the things in the sofa was good enough. (Why not put a sign up: Burglars! Don’t Miss This!)

Seriously: any time you sat on the sofa, you were sitting on top of a loaded gun. Heh…so…you get the picture why he had to go… 😀 Love may go blind at the garden gate, but sooner or later it regains its vision.

Need to start going back out to the range again, too. It’s just such a long drive out there that an hour of target practice becomes an Expedition of the First Water.

Now that our wise City Parents are gating off the alleys for the rich folks, all those folks’ bums are going to come over into our part of the ‘hood. To frost that cake, the city just rescinded a law that made it illegal for people to sleep on the street. Rousting the homeless has become too much of a hassle for the cops, as it develops. So it will be just fine for them to set up their camps behind our houses! Or, for that matter, right on the front sidewalk. There will be nothing we can do to discourage it.

Author: funny

This post may be a paid guest contribution.

Comments are closed.