A Gun Safety Lesson; Please Shoot My ADHD

So.  Spring has sprung in Austin, Texas. The trees are in leaf and full bloom, the birds are chirping and nesting, and the weather is gorgeous. The women have started wearing halter tops and sandals with shorts, and nothing is sexier to me than a woman in sandals, shorts and a halter top. Everything is marvelous here to Austin, Texas USA.
 And I couldn’t be any more fucking miserable if my nuts were caught in a vise and my feet were on fire.
 My bloggie is all jammed up and shit one more time. I have the same problems as before where comments and my blog postings don’t hit the I-net air waves. Which, of course, means that most of you won’t even be able to read this.
 Of course that means that most of you won’t be able to read what you aren’t able to read about not being able to read stuff I write and post about you not being able to read my postings and shit.
 Ugh. Ugh, yet again.
 Squatlo says I should just shit can the whole thing and start over and he might be right. But I’ve spent so much effort to establish pathways with all of the search engines’ spider monkeys I can’t easily give in.
 OK, then there’s the whole thing about me being stubborner than a mule. And I’m a slave to routine. And I hate changes that aren’t my idea. And then there’s that thing about me being a TOTAL FUCKING LUNATIC.
 Maybe two years ago I got rid of all the handguns in my possession and had Gram lock all of my long guns out of my reach. I did this because I was sensing the urge to pop some caps in some fuckers. I won’t go into any of that because, of course, some of it is in my book. But I will say that a certain famous Austin author, a dark-skinned professionally-dressed man driving a Mercedes 500, and a young man who littered the ranch road in front of my place with a dozen sick puppies, were not plugged by me emptying a full clip from my 9mm Glock in their asses because I took those precautions.
 Last night I asked Gram to loan me her double-barrel 12-gage shotgun. “What fer?” she asked me.
 “Don’t worry why, just get it for me,” I responded.
 The old woman eyeballed me up and down before saying, “You ain’t gonna shoot poor Henry are ya?”
 “No,” my best short answer.
 More eyeballing and then, “That asshole that keeps cuttin ya off over to the Arboretum?”
 “No,” I repeated. Why embellish when a two-letter answer says it all?
 “Hot damn, yer gonna shoot that fucking pig a yers and his gay lover too?” Gram jumped from her chair and headed to her room to open the gun case. “Bout time you put them two outta my miseries.”
 “I’m not shooting Rush Limbaugh and Rick Perry, Gram. My pet pig and his ostrich lover are family members. I killing my computer.”
 Gram eyeballed me again, and this time fiercely. “No, yer not. Yer gonna fix it an quit yer belly achin. Er I’m gonna kick yer ass. Now get me a beer and go fix dinner.”
 I got her a Carta Blanca, opened it and put it in her cup holder. I screwed cup holders to the table places where Gram and Aunt Hilda sit. Cuts down on spillage.
 My antique raw-boned old grandmother took her seat and drank a long pull from the sweaty bottle. She belched a satisfying gas bubble and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.
 “Come here boy,” she said.
 When I hesitated, she said again, “Come here, I said.”
 I walked over and sat beside her to take my next scold. She instead put her calloused hands on my cheeks and kissed me full on the lips. “Yer a good boy, Mooner. Yer jist all fucked up and loonier than mockin’bird on China berries. I’ll kill that compooter for ya while you cook my dinner.”
 I love that old gasbag. After dinner I took her Ferrari to go buy my new monitor. Gram has a laptop and associates the word computer with the screen.
 Anyway, my ADHD is on the fritz, and I’m really glad I don’t have ready access to a gun.
 Manana, y’all. And please comment on this if you can read it. I’d like to know what’s up out there.

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One Response to “A Gun Safety Lesson; Please Shoot My ADHD”

  1. Squatlo says:

    Hay, boy howdy!!! I plugged in my Mooner address and there you is!!! Shit, it’s like Christmas and Orange and White Day rolled into one big blunt! Now all you gotta do is write something to make me wanna come back, man…

    Stop looking at Japan video, first off. Can’t fix it, only gonna get worse, and there’s tons of shit here we oughta work on while we’re waiting for the meltdown. Rush is making fun of the Japanese for inventing Prius cars and recycling, and Beck says God’s pissed because we forgot to send her an anniversary card.

    RPSUX!

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