Seems like the only time that I’m alone lately is when I’m praying or when I’m having sex. If getting up is the second hardest thing in the morning, The “Hail Mary” and “Our Father” are put on hold for a couple minutes.
I don’t mind being alone. Someone told me the other day that you are never alone if you know God. I’m never alone because I have a George in my home.
I bought an attachment for my kitchen sink faucet that points in all directions and moves on an extra elbow. It enables me to wash big pots and pans. You can even use it like a water fountain.
My assclown son realized that if he leaves it pointing up and out when he goes to bed…
…it will spray all over his Oldman’s chest when he gets up early in the morning.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me
or in Chicago they say, “Fool me once, Fuck you! Fool me twice, fuck me!”
Well George got me the first time. Quarter till four in the morning and my t-shirt and boxer briefs were soaked!
Every morning when I wake up, the faucet is staring me in the chest. My high functioning son can’t turn off a bathroom fucking light or put his dishes in the dishwasher, but he can remember to face the faucet out every night before he goes to bed.
His way of saying, “I love you Dad!”
So between Poppa God and George Shepley, I’m never alone.
The Bears have a noon game today, but I’m not drinking the Kool-Aid. I’ve got better things to do this afternoon, the last Sunday of September.
Have an incredible day and be astonished
