A new life philosophy

I am back. Oh what fun we have had in these parts. I just do not recall what that fun actually was. I do remember yesterday, like it was only yesterday.......all my troubles seemed so far away, now it looks as though they're here to stay......(sorry, Sir Paul).

The Wife went to the Condo so that the vultures could pick at the Outlaws material possessions. There was a picking last week, which upset the Wife so. The problem was her aunt, MIL's sister, who is just a pig and has no shame. Of course, nobody opens their mouth to voice their displeasure (a wonderful trait modelled so skillfully by MIL, it really helped keep her satisfied and no point in fixing something that is most assuredly broken). When I say nobody, I mean the Wife, so she gets all mopey and silent. She is dealing with morons, yet seems to think they can read her mind. Even if they could, what makes the Wife think that anything would change, unless she points out what she wants/expects and does something when those things go unmet.

One day, I hope, she will figure it out. She has not in a good 42 years, but you never know. Of course, to do that would mean taking an objective look at all around you, including yourself, so I am not holding my breath that this will ever occur.

Anyway, while the Wife dealt with that, I went to a batting cage with the Lad. It was warm and a bit of a drive, but it was a hell of a lot of fun. I have a bruised palm (not tonight dear, I have a palm ache, is what my hand told me last night....bastard hand is becoming a pain, I may have to start dating again). I figure if I could lick my own balls, I would be done with my hand anyway. I digress, in some disturbing territory I might add.

We hit the batting cage. The Lad was good, though by the last few balls, I could see the fatigue set in and the bat speed come down. It is only natural. He hit 100 pitches and I did 40. I really cranked a few. It felt good.

That was a fun day for a father and son. Especially, a father like me, who just wants to do his own thing, which is really a euphemism for getting drunk and just passing out. That is the way to go through life son......heavily medicated.

So, there you have my pearl of wisdom. Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life son, but drunk, passed out and near comatose is the better way!

Ciao!