Freak Outs etc.

It was Oct 31. Good old Halloween Night to you people but to me it was the night my friend Kevin asked for a hand. A hand you say? What could your pal K even need of you at six o'clock on a Sunday night? Well I tell you what, number one on my list was not moving a few trailer trash people from one government funded housing project to another because they were getting evicted. See I bet none of you (if anyone reads this) guessed that either.

Some background. Kevin is a good dude, a friend since grade school and a sucker. He is on this "help the less fortunate" kick right now, which is ok I guess except when he enlists my help. I know what you’re all thinking. James why shouldn't you help your a strapping buck in the prime of your life. You stand near to ten feet tall and can hold fire in your bare hands. We once saw you lift a car with your bare hands to change a flat tire. You’re all liars!

So I go help. I find out some more information the fellow we're helping out is doing this as a favor for his ignorant ex-wife and mother in law. On the off chance they may let him see his daughter for more then three hours this month. How crappy is that? Did I mention they were ignorant?

It was both the best and worst time I've had in a long while. "I like good times. You see the best thing about good times is that they are good times." That line right there left my friends Kevin, Dan and Jeff almost crying in laughter. I had just reached to pick up a piece or furniture when I felt searing pain in my thumb. I dropped the piece that can only be called a wooden do-dad with rusty sharp pointy things and held up my bleeding thumb and with the best beauty pageant smile said the previous quote. The clever twist at the end there was that the times we were having were not good at all. I used opposites to stress the difference between "Good Times" and what we were then doing. I'm a comedic genius sometimes.

I wish that could have been the end of my story but sadly no. Since these people had decided to live in a dog and cat soiled squalor. I was sure to get an amount of pet feces into my open wound. I have a lovely non-healing angry red scab on my thumb. Hurray.

Eventually Dan remembered near eight O'clock that I had dinner plans with my family that night. He asked me to drive him by his house so he could get his vehicle. He offered to let me go home and he would go back and help them finish up. He was my hero right then. I was free. I wanted someone to teach my how to do a cartwheel so I could do some right then. I took him to his truck. I was home free we live around twenty seconds away from each other nothing could go wrong. I blew out a tire. Normally that is just slightly bothersome. Not that day. I had just bought four new tires on Thursday. I had finally given up hope on the last four I had, Baldy, Slow Leak, Wobbly and Miss-Matched. I stopped in inspect the damage and found a tube of some kind allowing the air to rush out so fast that my tire was flat before I got out of my seatbelt. I figured right away some piss ant kid had booby-trapped the road way and I was the victim of a Halloween prank. I sat in the street furiously changing my tire hopping one of them would show themselves so I could mercilessly beat them with a tire iron. That’s just the kind of night it turned out to be.

I took the tire home and found out what had flattened my brand new majestic tire. A pen. I stupid .49 cent pen. I didn't even think that was possible! Think of the devastation if the world found out. Iraq could have help the US at bay for months just buy throwing boxes of Bics off the back of their vans. Good Lord I just realized! If a pen can flatten a tire what can gummy bears do? The horror...

Later.