Lending and Borrowing

You know that old Shakespeare saying, "Neither a borrower nor a lender be" that's been around for centuries? People could learn from that. I should not lend, and irresponsible idiots should not borrow.

I have a folding chair that I keep at work to take my daily nap in. It's not your average folding chair--It's got a unique angle to it that allows you to recline back in a very comfortable position. It originally had a footrest that was attached as well, but that wore out and I tossed it. It's an Eddie Bauer chair, and most likely not replaceable.

Except now I need to replace it.

According to him, when he got out of it to go to the cooler, the wind blew it into the campfire and burned half of it up. I don't buy it. As a matter of fact, if I do find a replacement for it, I doubt if he will either. Some people have no respect for others' property. That pissed me off ALL day yesterday at work. It was one of the few years that my birthday falls on a work day, and I chose not to even mention it all day long. I just stewed. Then to add to it, quitting time comes and goes and I have to stay and work another two hours. At least I had the Harley to ride home.

I stopped at Cave Man Kitchen on the way home and bought myself a BBQ chicken sandwich for dinner. Right as I got off my Harley, my brother cruised up on his, bringing me a birthday card. Chris next door came over too and we stood around swapping bike stories and stuff for a while. When he left I went inside and ate my now cold chicken sandwich. I noted with a sigh that they just weren't as good as they used to be. There isn't as much in the middle as there used to be. About that time, Teresa called and asked me if I was home, saying that they wanted to come over before my parents did (everybody wants to avoid my dad these days). She added that Sarah had some things she needed to print and their printer wasn't working right.

They came over and were here for a short while when someone tapped on the garage door. "Oh jeez," Teresa says, "they're here." Nope, it was my sister Denise and her husband Mike and son Jesse. They were a welcome surprise, and they brought me a 12-pack of Corona and some limes. We three guys were all out in the garage when my parents drove up. My dad was in a surly mood (when is he not?) of course. They gave me some canned nuts and a chisel for my birthday. It was the kind of chisel with the built-on hand protector thing on it so you won't smash your hand with a hammer if you miss the chisel. I was trying it out on a piece of wood and my dad lit into me, telling me that's not how you do it, etc, etc. I went into the house and asked my mom, "What's wrong with that asshole anyway?" She said he had been that way all day. "Just don't talk to him." she suggested. I told her he was in serious need of some medication. I left all the ladies nodding their heads in agreement and went back out to the garage. It was only a few minutes later that he poked his head into the house and hollered at her, "You about ready?" What a dick. I like to spend time with mom, and so does everyone else

If she ends up dying before he does, I'm moving. Fuck him... Relative or not, he's totally alien to me.