Dirtbags That Ditch Dogs On Dirt Roads

This is one of those tales that comes along when you already think you know what is going on, and then life swings back around and kicks you in the ass.

Before We relocated to the Souther Country We were well aware that the county We were moving to (Crush County) was pretty poor. Due to a severe lack of funds one of the things Crush County was forced to do was close their Animal Care And Control almost 4 years ago. Recently the Crush County AC&C has been trying desperately to reopen in at least some capacity, but are actually have to rebuild the entire system from the ground up.

In addition again due to lack of funds and resources Crush County doesn’t have a single Animal Shelter, and there no established rescue organizations. There are a few so called “Animal Rescues”, but in reality they people mean well (and want to help) its just that they don’t know how to help effectively, and lack the resources to.

To top it all off attitudes towards pet dogs are significantly outdated. What I mean by that is People aren’t on board with spaying/neutering their pets, Dogs are put out in the morning and allowed to roam until they return home at diner time to eat, Collars are a rarity and next to no Dogs with Name/Rabies tags on their collar if they do in fact have one.

Now heres the story.

My Wife and I were driving to the next town over to buy some supplies we can’t get in our Tiny Town. To reach the neighboring town there is a dirt road short cut which we utilize constantly for its convince. Right as we hit the top of the dirt road we saw two Puppies (large breed pups but pups none the less) sitting on the side of the road looking rather lost and confused. We slowed down as we passed them not wanting to accidentally hurt one of them and waved at them. A second later My wife called my attention the to review mirror. I looked into the passenger’s side review mirror and saw the two pups running after our car desperately trying to keep up. We immediately pulled over and stopped the car. We both exited the car and the two pups came running up to us brimming with glee, and we knew that anyway you sliced it these pups were now our responsibility as we weren’t about to leave them where we found them along side of a deserted dirt road.

An old beat up pick up truck came rambling down the road from the opposite direction so when the truck got near we stopped it, and asked the old man driving if he knew who these pups belonged too? He said with all conviction that he had no idea who’s pups they might be. We then asked the old man what exactly should we or could we do to help the pups as we are new to the area? The old man responded with the same previous conviction that we could leave them, Pick them up or Give them to someone we knew and drove off.

Well as I said abandoning the pups was NOT an option and we don’t know anyone yet being the new kids on the block so we reverted back to what we knew and decided to try and locate the owner. Now like I mentioned earlier collars and tags are not a priority here so as you can imagine the pups had neither, but they were well fed and very friendly (not all dogs here are friendly because there is a feral stray dog population which unfortunately is an ongoing and growing problem.) We heard several dogs barking at the small cement bunker looking like house on the corner at the top of the dirt road. We assumed that the pups must have slipped out the fence so we loaded the pups up into our car and drove the 7 blocks back to the corner house. There were approximately 8 adult (possibly few of them were juveniles) running around barking their fucking heads off in the fenced in backyard of the small house. My Wife got out and started to cross the front yard words the front door when the front door opened a fraction and a little old lady stuck her head out and demanded to know what we wanted. We explained we found these two pups and were wondering if they were in deed hers to which the old woman stated aggressively that she “Didn’t have NO Puppies”, and then she provided us with the reality of the dirt road we mistook for an innocent short cut. After stating that she didn’t have any puppies she shouted angrily that the dirt road was a notorious road for dumping unwanted dogs, and that the illegal abandoning of dogs is a frequent occurrence. Then the old woman pulled her head back inside and slammed to door with a vengeance.

My Wife and I once again loaded up the pups and did the only thing we knew we could and brought the pups back to our home office. Our home office has a large fenced in backyard complete with a large one car garage (and of course we all just park out in the drive way) and we decided we could house the pups there until we figured out what the hell we could do.

Now before any over sensitive animal lovers get ready to give us shit because we did’t bring them inside remember and know this we didn’t know if the pups were destructive, how if at all were they house broken, they needed to be dewormed as well as shots and a serious flea/tick bath. We also have 3 cats and a handicapped Mini Dachshund (she was born completely deaf and half blind) already in our Office and din’t know how the new pups would react/behave around other dogs or cats.

My Wife and I as well as our staff are all animal owners and lovers so as soon as we got the pups back to the office and the staff undated we went to work. We secured the gate so the pups would;t be able to take any unauthorized walks if you will. We then cleaned out and organized the garage, loaded it up with beds, blankets, tons of toys, food/water dishes, treats, and put the pups to bed so to speak.

The next day We bathed both pups for ticks and fleas, took them to the local and only Veterinarian for shots and to pick up dewormer, Heart Worm Preventative, Flea/Tick Prevention, and find out when the pups needed their rabies shot. We also went and spent our weekly beer budget at local Pet Stores buying food, treats, more fucking toys and training treats. We also told the various pet shop employees our story and they all said the same thing “You picked them up in your car and took them to your Home Office, Their your dogs you know that right?”

The Pups are brother and sister Lab/Rotti mixes that were around 12 weeks old when we found them on the side of the road. The Boy is an attention whore, Dopey, Wrestling loving big old ball of goofy that earned him the name Dingus (or Gus for short) and his sister is smart as a whip, the shyer of the two, and extremely loving so we named her Nymh (and yes thats a hats off reference to The Secret of Nyhm) We have had them with us for the last 3 weeks and couldn’t be happier. The Pups don’t have any bad habits like digging or chewing, they are EGAR to please, travel great in the car, Intelligent and full of unconditional love. The Pups have already mastered the commands for Sit, Stay and Down and put a smile on anyones face they come in contact with. As far as any backstory for the pups is concerned I Believe the original owner had a litter of pups they were selling, and these two didn’t get bought. Not only did the pups not sell they started to get expensive (they eat like fucking horses) and less puppy like so the owner decided to dump the dogs on the dirt road. Those assholes’s loss so fuck’em I’m not wasting my time being pissed about it as that is a futile activity.

All in All even though the pups fell into our lap I feel it couldn’t be any more fitting for the start of the new chapter in Our and f-yourblog.com’s Lives. I mean we moved to the Southern Country and acquired two pups that were ditched on a dirt road, and will grow up to be some truly great Big Old Country Dogs.

Thanks For The Read

Les Sober

Last Voicemail Message from SpaceDog Transcribed by Les Sober

Welcome

It was an autumn night. The year 1994. I was 16. I remember this night for it was my first introduction to the ‘gay community’. It was my first night at a gay bar. The people I was with told I was at the ‘Little Roxy’ (in New Brunswick, NJ maybe?).

As I walked in, I took in the room. The first thing I noticed were the stares. The first thing I felt was the hand of an intoxicated man grabbing my ass. It was immediate uncomfortablity. I was offered a drink but I just wanted to get out. I did eventually.

We proceeded to go to Roxy in New York. I was in awe. At first I loved it, then it struck me as odd, then it struck me as love again. I noticed everybody being really gropey to one another. Then the people I was with (a much older sampling of men probably mostly over 40) all started kissing together in a circle. I, being in the city on their pursestrings, joined. It was all odd in the long run, then I was taken home, snuck in my window, and went on with my regular life.

Looking back at this specifically it just strikes me as odd how this group of friends would all get tongue twisted like that. I shouldn’t judge really, I’ve hooked up with a friend or two in my days but it was basically my first impression.

On my eighteenth birthday, I was ostracized by my closest gay friend for not wanting to go out to a club. I wanted to be around my straight friends and for this I was condemned and condoned.

‘Why would you want to be around straight people?’ You can’t get any cock with them!’, he viciously barked at me.

My simple reply was,’Life is not just about sex. It is about being around people that I enjoy the company of whether they are straight or gay.’ Sadly this wasn’t the only time I heard this from a fellow gay.

Prelude to a F*** OFF

Before I begin this section I just want to state that I have had fun at gay bars and clubs in the past. I have also had fun while being stranded in snow storms along the side of the road and have had fun while being searched by the police. I even have had fun with someone after suicide attempt. Does this make me sick and twisted? More then likely yes. I adapt to the cards I am dealt on a given occasion and try to make the best of things. We aren’t always dealt a great hand and even when we are there are infinite ways we can screw it up (and vice versa).

F*** OFF!!!!!!!!!!

I am completely tired of how gay people act as a whole. Sure as a ‘community’ we can band together and protest things like prop 8 which I am proud of, yet the remander of the time we tear one another apart.

I choose not to part of a ‘community’ wear all that is praised is vanity, clothing labels, and how many cocks we can suck. I choose not to be a part of something where self centeredness reigns queen supreme. Where narcassism is considered a positive attribute and altruism is a red flag for let’s take advantage of him. Where people not conforming to the majority are made to feel like a right wing nut job at an Obama rally.

And nearly fifteen years after my first experience with the ‘community’ I have realized nothing has changed. It is all just still a big meat market, devoid of morals, devoid of much more then what can you do for me now. I don’t really expect more and never have or will. It is what it is.

On a personal note, I have noticed that things such as honesty, whether about yourself or someone else is chopped down to an unacceptable level.

Nine times out of ten when I tell someone that I have epilepsy they suddenly look at me differently like I have eight legs or they want me to have a seizure like, ‘HERE SPARKY BARK SPARKY’ F*** SPARKY!!!

I tell them I think Britney Spears, Ashley Simpson, Miley Cyrus and their legion of doom can all go suck my cock and that I like a lot more rock music and that the music playing in this club makes me to shoot myself in the head, they are either personally affronted or think I literally want to shoot myself in the head. Like I’m gonna go out like Kurt Cobain or Layne Staley and off myself just because I listen to their music.

 

When someone asks my opinion, I do not sugar coat it. I tell it like it is. I do not hang in close surroundings with people I detest. People are so offended by bluntness and honesty because the truth hurts.

Would you rather be lied to all your life by people you think are your friends or would you rather be told the truth by your enemies? Lest we forget the old saying:, ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies even closer.’

A lot of people who portray themselves as genuine will stab you in the back in front of their friends. Some people will simply reveal their true colors over time.

Which is why I simply say F*** OFF to the ‘gay community’ and for those of you fed up as well, welcome to my gay revolution.

The UFC is it All its Cracked up to Be?!

The UFC in the beginning was nothing more then a bunch or barely legal back room Bar Room Brawls. That was until the UFC was purchased by in 2001 and Fight Promoter Dana White was installed as President of the UFC. Under White’s guidance the UFC was transformed from a shady amateur promotion into a Legitimate Multi Billion dollar Global Brand featuring Mixed Martial Arts, and with Fighters from around the World competing. Besides MMA UFC Fighters are also trained in Grappling, Boxing, Submission holds and Muay Thai Boxing.

With that said I have a couple of key issues with the UFC.

The first is it takes the Fighter’s an exorbitant mount of time to make their way to the ring surrounded by Coachs, Trainers and several other people who’s exact job isn’t apparent. The excessive showboat entrances are the equivalent of having to sit through 20-23 minutes of shitty previews at the movie theater before the actual movie begins.

The next is while the UFC ads are awesome featuring Fighters fighting furiously as they try and either knock out their opponent or make them submit. Yet when it comes to the actual Fight Event the action is quite different. Usually at first the Fighters throw a few cautionary fists and feet before engaging in a Grappling contest as they jockey for position. The problem is while Grappling requires skill, practice and excellent execution its not visually entertaining. If I’m at the actual fight unless I’m in the most expensive front rows of seats once the Fighters start Grappling they are no longer in my field of sight. Now if I’m watching it on TV its a bit better as I have several camera angles and close ups, BUT it still lacks the visual action that draws the crowds in.

Its very similar to the difference between Men and Women’s Professional Boxing. In Men’s Boxing most of the actual fight consists mainly of the two Fighters dancing around the ring throwing a jab or two, and locking up (a fancy term for grabbing and holding onto your opponent until the Ref tells you to break it up) Then finally at the tail end of the fight the Boxers kick it into gear and the fight started to resemble its reputation for brutality and possible bloodshed.

In Women’s Boxing once the bell rings the Fighters come barreling out of the corner both guns blazing as they fight fast and furiously as they attempt to beat their opponent hopefully by knocking them out. The point being Women’s Boxing delivers the violent intensity of Muay Thai Boxing (commonly know as Kick Boxing by the General Public) that fight fans thrive on.

Well thats just one man’s opinion, Thanks for the Read

Sincerely

Les Sober

SpaceDog & Dullard’s Inter Dimensional Demise

Well hell I just don’t know wtf to begin with this little ditty but we must start somewhere. The Kiddies (Staff) mentioned in their post that as far as they knew SpaceDog was MIA, but they also stated I claimed to know the current whereabouts of SpaceDog and at that time I did. SpaceDog had taken sometime off during our move to live out his dream of true inner vision out in some god forsaken desert, and brought our Chief Editor Dullard Dillard along for the ride. As luck would have it while transversing the barren beauty of the vast desert plains SpaceDog and Dullard came across a small commune. The commune was a Hippy dinosaur disillusionment hangover from “The Love Generation” founded by Dr. Nirvana Namaste (who founded to commune in 1961 after fleeing from Berkley University where he was a professor of Geology.)

SpaceDog and Dullard were invited by the current Commune leader and son of Dr. Nirvana Namaste High Hippy Freedom Haberdasher or Clive for short. SpaceDog held lengthy conversations over the next 4-5 days talking about transcendentalism with the members of the Commune (dubbed The THC Ministry Farms by its 78 full time inhabitants) well into the wee hours of the morning.

SpaceDog had always dreamed of actually whipping up a big old punch bowl with what he called “Electric Kool Aid”, and figured he had an apt audience. So SpaceDog asked Clive if he could repay his and Dullard’s stay at the commune by making a metaphysical meditation medication. Clive not being to concerned of the risk because well they were 117 miles from anything remotely resembling civilization. SpaceDog went to work (as Dullard watched wide eyed in shock and Awe) without pause concocting his Enlightenment Elixir. First Spacedog filled a massive punch bowl (25 gallon to be exact) with cheap fruit punch that consisted mainly of water, sugar and red dye. The SpaceDog added the list of secret ingredients (which is a bit foolish to say as SpaceDog had told quite a few people over the years about his Holy Psychedelic Venture)

This is now time for our Disclaimer & WARNING:

  1. The views, opinions and actions portrayed in posts ARE NOT THAT OF f-yourblog.com.
  2. We DO NOT Advocate, Encourage or Endorse ANY AND ALL  extremely dangerous acts that our subject (or subject manner) may pertain to in a post, we are just mere reporters, Documentarians, and Story Tellers.

WARNING TO ALL READERS!

We at f-yourblog do not condone drug use and believe Addiction to be a serious and dire subject.

DO NOT ATTEMPT ANYTHING REMOTELY LIKE what SpaceDog did EVER. If you do the list of severely sick shit that can happen to you include but are not limited to:

HOSPITALIZATION, SEVER NEUROLOGICAL DAMAGE, SEVERE BRAIN DAMAGE, DEATH, EXTREME MOOD SWINGS, LACK OF REASON/COMMON SENSE, DIZZINESS, DELUSION, HALLUCINATION, HEART ATTACK/ STROKE, SELF DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR (IE. SELF HARM), INSANITY, PSYCHOSIS, PARANOIA ,AND DEMENTIA and thats just for starters.

NOW back to our story…

Spacedog proceeded to add MDMA, LSD, Ecstasy, Magic Mushrooms (Psilocybin), Peyote, Mescolilne, PCP, Micro Dots, DMT, Ayahuasca, Salvia Divinorum, DXM, Areca catechu, Kava (Piper methysticum), Ipomoea tricolor, Khat,Fly Agaric Mushrooms, Datura Stramonium (Hell’s Bell’s or Jimson weed), Wormwood, Heavenly Blue Morning Glory Seeds, Areca Catechu (Betel Nut), Plants containing Atropine/Scopolmine,Lysergic Acid Amide,Eboga,Mexican Calea,San Pedro Torch Cactus,Blue Egyptian Water Lily,Colorado River Toad Poison, and Cannabis Sativa. There were also likely a few more ingredients that were added in an impromptu manner in the making.

SpaceDog’s psychotic psychedelic punch made its debut at that nights Feast of the Full Moon Festival. Now this is were shit gets really fucking weird, and the details are sketchy as sketchy can get. According to the surviving Commune Members some of the things that occurred that evening are as follows:

  1. 9 Members Brains liquefied and drained out of their Nasal Cavities
  2. 2 Members Spontaneously Combusted
  3. 17 Ran off into the desert night claiming that they were going in search of The Gumdrop Gods to request that they be allowed to live in Candy Land Board Game, and have yet to be found.
  4. Several members climbed large cactuses nude.
  5. 3 Members became convinced they were ancient desert Tortoises and still believe that to this day.
  6. 4 Members were transported back in time, but their destinations in the historical timeline are uncertain.
  7. 11 Members blasted off into outer space to have a foot race using the Rings of Saturn as their race track.
  8. 1 member reverted from a full grown adult into a barely viable fetus.
  9. A Couple of Members listened to Chumbawamba and Tub Thumped one another to death.
  10. 6 Members actually jumped out of their own skin.

But what happened to SpaceDog and Dullard Dillard you ask? Well I can tell you what I’ve been told so here goes:

  1. Dullard Dillard allegedly came face to face with his Doppelgänger. A Doppelgänger is a German word that means “A Ghostly/Paranormal identical double or counterpart of a Living Person”. The Myth is if you encounter an apparition of yourself is/was an Omen of imminent death. The best way I can explain this subject further is “The Omen of Death” refers to a similar belief in Doppelgängers that if you encounter your Doppelgänger you will cease to exist. Think of it this way its the same as adding a positive number 1 and a negative number 1 together (-1+1=0). It was reported that when Dullard came face to face with his own Doppelgänger (No one else there saw Dullard’s Doppelgänger based on what happened though its considered the cause of Dullard’s disappearance) he exclaimed “I’m You, Your Me, together its We”, and then proceeded to turn inside out, outside in, inside out, outside in again then he simply imploded.

  1. SpaceDog Fared a much less detrimental outcome though it is equally bizarre. SpaceDog is alive but is still tripping his celestial balls off thus details as to his exact whereabouts are unknown. SpaceDog keeps referencing a “Emerald Triangle” (a infamous area of Marijuana Smuggling Routes) so we assume at this point he’s headed North West possible to Canada.

Thus we find ourselves at the end of this tale of Oddities, and I leave you to make up your own minds as far as wtf went down that night in the vast Desert.

Thanks for the Read,

Les Sober

Old Man Wheelchair Fights a Short Story

This is one of the funniest little story I’ve heard in far too long.

The Players:

Mr. Static: Is in his mid 60’s, Schizophrenic, had a stroke self medicating himself for his schizophrenia buy smoking a great deal of Crack, and lives in a Nursing Home.

Mr.Bobo: is in his is in his 70’s, wheelchair bound, and living in a Nursing Home.

Place: The hallway that leads into the Day Room of the Nursing Home that Mr.Static and Mr.Bobo live in. While the following exchange happened there was a Church Service being held in the aforementioned Day Room. So those who didn’t see the exchange did have the benefit of hearing it.

The Exchange:

As Mr.Static was inching down the hallway in his wheelchair Mr. Bobo was also inching his way down the hall in the opposite direction in his wheelchair. When Mr.Bobo got too close for Mr.Statics’s comfort (approximately 12-18 inches between the two men) Mr.Static growled possessed by some form of Old Man primal aggression blurted out at Mr.Bobo

“I’ll KILL YOU!!!”

Mr.Bobo Immediately responded because obviously he wasn’t taking shit form a schizophrenic angrily and rather loudly by stating that Mr. Static

“Don’t talk to me like that!! I’ll kick your fucking ass!, I’ll fuck you up!!”

A Staff Nurse named Duty interviened quickly by wheeling Mr.Bobo away in the opposite direction while telling Mr.Bobo

“Don’t listen to him you know he’s not in his right mind, you know what your saying….”

Thanks for the read.

Les Sober

Asshole Amy’s Rip Off Recommendation

As you all are readily aware we have moved our Home Offices and now I must sell our old Home Offices. The reason f-yourblog.com has yet to “relaunch and evolve” itself if you will is I’m having a shit time trying to unload the Offices. The following is a PRIME EXAMPLE of some of the inane to the insane shit I’ve been dealing with Every Day for 3 weeks or more.

Here’s the set up:

One of the easy fixes was a window in our office had a cracked pane of glass so we were going to replace it obviously before we had the property listed, and remember we are many state lines away. Our useless representation (earning the moniker Asshole) Amy recommended a window repair service called WINDOW DOCTOR.

Now its important at this to point out for the first time in f-yourblog.com’s brief history I have used a place/person/location/company by their REAL NAME, But after read the rest of this story I assure you will understand I wanted this piece to do double duty as a Warning to All Readers AND Consumers alike. Now back to the story.

 

Following the direction of our previous and shitty representative I scheduled WINDOW DOCTOR to come out to repair an easy fix. I should have realized how screwed up this situation is when WINDOW DOCTOR showed up to the job A DAY LATE. The Tech noticed a slight buldge at the bottom right corner of the window. He then informed our Rep.’s Personal Assistant.

We get our rep.’s PA’s report that evening that stated the Tech saw said buldge and being the Great Southern Swamp suspected there was some water damage issue (i.e. Window Leak issue), and couldn’t tell how bad the suspected water damage was.  He said he would report this finding to his employer WINDOW DOCTOR and then WINDOW DOCTOR would take it from there.

At the last possible minute on Friday 20 minutes before they close for the weekend WINDOW DOCTOR called my Wife at 4:40pm. Whoever the scumbag on the other end of the phone was claimed to definitively know the problem (again without doing a single diagnostic test) was and that they could fix it for us. The Scumbag went on to say that the entire exterior wall was rotted to hell and would have to be torn down, completely reframed and then rebuilt to the tune of $9,000.

IMEDDIATELY a HUGE Red Flag shot up on my never failing Bullshit Meter. So I did the practical and logical I called for a 2nd and even a 3rd estimates (Due to the fact I trust next to no one). I also called other Window/Home Construction Companies over the weekend, and explain the horrendous pile of Horse Shit I was told by WINDOW DOCTOR. To NO SURPRISE WHAT SO EVER They all unanimously agreed that was one of the stupidest (not to mention shadiest) things they had ever heard, and recommended NOT USING WINDOW DOCTOR.

The 2nd and 3rd estimates came back virtually the same, there was NO STRUCTURAL DAMGE as The Wall was intact and free from wood rot or water damage. The entire window and window frame would need to be replaced due to a leak. Right at the base of the window where the water had trickled in would need to be fixed BUT THAT WAS IT. I asked them both what they would charge me to fix the problem at hand. The answer was…..drum roll please………$2,300 four times LESS (thats over $6,500 less) than WINDOW DOCTOR because there was NO INTERIOR DAMAGE TO THE WALL, All Damage was deemed SUPERFICIAL.

Me being Me I couldn’t let it end there I was pissed off about the whole WINDOW DOCTOR estimate that had been proven to be absolutely BULLSHIT. If your thinking the next thing I did was call WINDOW DOCTOR Directly then Your Right.

See I had put a few things together. First WINDOW DOCTOR lied to me which was in fact an attempt to commit fraud. Second thing was the fact that WINDOW DOCTOR had called so close to closing on Friday especially when their closed on weekends. Based on the time of the call it was apparent they were using basic fear tactics, call last minute, report some serious shit, and then let them sit and stew about it all weekend. The desired affect is to have the Mark to panic, which they figured would work even better on an out of state owner. It Didn’t. In Fact as you can see their plan was failing as well as back firing.

I decided to use the “Hi! I’m Joe Public, I don’t know anything on the topic of window repair, So your saying” strategy to dupe the Scam Artist into thinking I was a viable target, and then trapping them in their own lies while playing The Fool. The first question I asked was how did they know so much about such extensive structural problem(s) without doing ANY diagnostics? The woman’s replay was “Because I’ve been in the Business 25 years” so I replied to her by stating the fact ANYONE could do ANYTHING for 25 years like say I was a Professional Bowler. I could bowl 25 years, BUT that doesn’t mean I’m on the Champion Circuit all decked out in Endorsements. After 25 years I could still suck and be struggling at the bottom of any ranking system.

The Woman then (like a truly guilty person) immediately got extremely defensive. She started feeding me equally idiotic company propaganda such as “We hire only the best tech/use the best products etc.” I then told her I had NEVER heard of WINDOW DOCTOR before, never done business with them (neither did anyone else I contacted on this subject) and in all honesty didn’t actually hire them (Asshole Amy did since WINDOW DOCTOR was HER recommendation that turned out to be a 3 ring shit show) At this point I had this woman so flustered because I wasn’t falling for her well rehearsed con artist line of crap, and was staying toe to toe with her until she was backed into a corner. The woman AGAIN like a VERY GUILTY PERSON does she handed the phone off to a Field Tech. It turned out the Tech Named ANDY was the same son of a bitch that did the wrote up the initial report.

This Sack of Shit tries to convince me of one of the most RIDICULOUS LIE I have heard in a long, long time. ANDY tells me the reason the estimate was $9,000 wasn’t so much the actual due to the cost of materials. ANDY continued telling me that they have to buy their supplies in bulk, and if their only doing one office then ALL their LEFTOVER BULK ORDERED MATERIALS would be useless as in they couldn’t use them for any other jobs.

Just then I suddenly figured the scam out, and it was time to go for the this jackass’s jugular.

I stopped ANDY in the middle of whatever drivel he was babbling about and addressed what he had told me. I told ANDY that it had become quite obvious ANDY and his employer WINDOW DOCTOR where attempting to get me to agree to a fake problem. That way WINDOW DOCTOR would bank the actually REAL REPAIR PRICE of $2,300 and then take the additional $6,500 Plus to buy supplies on MY DIME. I then proceeded to tell ANDY that his lie was AN OBVIOUS LIE, what am I supposed to believe? Am I supposed to believe that right after WINDOW DOCTOR finished the repair that what? The nails would instantly rust? The wood suddenly is ravaged by termites? The massive roll of tar paper would disintegrate? WHAT A LOAD OF SHIT. I ended the conversation at that point with a “Well Fuck You Andy and your Bullshit Employers for trying to exploit their customers.”

The Moral of this story is Don’t Blindly Trust anyone Especially a Large Company.

ALWAYS get a 2nd opinion.

Don’t Take Shit from Scam Artists.

Fight Back against Scumbag Scam Artists and Conartists.

Thanks For Reading

Les “Than” Sober

 

Our Exodus From The Great Southern Swamp Once & For All

As all these stories start we woke at dawn (or the ass crack off dawn for my fellow non morning friends) and proceeded to try to drink Dunkin Doughnuts out of coffee. We had to wait until 11 am before we could pick up the small army of Uhaul trailers the reason being our Slumlord wouldn’t allow us to park the vehicles in the parking lot overnight like an asshole. So we set out to finish “Tidying Up” and do last minute patching, painting and deep cleaning while we waited. I don’t personally have the patience to wait which is why I hate waiting. Patience is a virtue I was born without.

Finally we get the Uhauls lined up out front of the office and for the next 4 hours did nothing but load the trucks up one after the other. We then packed up our office animal and put rubber to asphalt. Just our luck The Great Southern Swamp had one more fuck you for us as we made our final escape. The entire east side of The Great Southern Swamp was hit with a series of brutal tropical storms. The storms were so intense you couldn’t see the tail lights of the car 6 feet in front of you thus slowing down our progress severely. After battling the tropical storms for almost 8 hours we crossed the state line leaving the Great Southern Swamp looming in our review mirrors.

The rest of the trip to the Southern Country went relatively smooth in spite of god knows how many fueling stops, bathroom breaks and other minor difficulties. We reached our new home office (which since moving have decided to dub “The Black Lodge” a tribute to the band Anthrax, what I told you I’m older than dinosaur shit?!) a little past 3 am and were needless to say exceptionally glad to have reached our destination and get the hell off the road. As we started to unload My Wife suddenly informed me the only key we had was missing. We stumbled around road weary and some what sleep deprived (everyone was excited about the move so no one really got any thing resembling actual sleep) looking in vain for the lost key. It was the brought to my attention there was a back up emergency key stashed about 30 minutes away. Not thrilled in the least my Wife and I got in our car, leaving the kids (staff) and critters on the front porch of The Black Lodge. Once we reached the house where our emergency key was at we had to enter the code given to us by the owner to shut off the security alarm. Needless to say in our delirious state we instead of shutting the alarm off we set it off. I can not begin to describe the sound this alarm made it was not only deafening (even with your fingers in your ears so far their tickling your brain) and disorienting in it self. It was so insanely loud we actually could think coherently, it was like the kind of shit the police/military/government agencies do when they blast music to end a standoff.

I managed to hold my shit together long enough to clock the alarm company’s phone number off the alarm box and ran across the street to call them. The alarm company was cool as shit and the problem was taken care of, well that one at least. My Wife then went in to retrieve our emergency key and I shit you not it wasn’t there. I then tried to contact the owner which took awhile being at that point it was around quarter to 4 in the morning. I did catch up with the owner in the end who then informed me they had our key with them. The only issue with that was the owner was on vacation in motherfucking Las Vegas which obviously left us high and dry.

With no other option my Wife and I got back in the car once again and headed back to The Black Lodge. Once we arrived we informed the Kids (Staff) we would be sleeping in the same vehicles we were so happy to get out of in the first fucking place. Fortunately that would only translate to approximately 4 hours or so because it turned out our contractor still had a copy of our key which we retrieved at 8:30 am the next day.

All in All it seems like a fitting end to our chapter in The Great Southern Swamp and our the start of our new chapter here in The Southern Country.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober