don't judge people by their writing

This is a picture my brother Tim took.
When i was single, I tried a free dating service that allowed you to e mail people and get to know them that way. This one fellow wrote very nicely, and i was impressed and so went to meet him.

He was pleasant enough, but some things he said worried me. Such as, your alright, I used to date babes so I am over that phase. 

Let me assure you that if you have spent a reasonably long life not being a babe, except to certain men with astigmatisms or bad taste, you are well aware of the fact that you are not a babe. It is not a good way to start a relationship, because you are probably not going to become appreciably better looking, and after a few weeks he will run screaming from you.

He also apparently came from a well to do background, and when he found out that I was an hourly employee he said ' wow you punch a clock and everything? I never knew anyone who punched a clock" and I did feel a little like Norma Ray but I was afraid that if we ever got involved he would make me enter through the backdoor and sleep in the servants quarters. 

The worst thing was that he turned out to be rabidly right winged, which some might consider a redundancy, saying things about taking all the land back from the native Americans and Reagan should have been made king and such. Nowadays, and this was ten years or so ago, it is common for young people to learn about each other through writing and texting and twitching or what have you, and this is just a cautionary tale from someone old enough to be your mother, though if I was and you had tatoos I would definately disown you, just a warning, and you are all like, women get mean when they get old, but sometimes that is all a woman has left, is to cut you out of the will for eating fast food burgers and driving an SUV and I am leaving everything to PETA just to spite all of you...ha ha just kidding. The Humane Society, really.

Kay-dee and jan-c review a movie

We stayed up late and watched this movie called the Dark knight. We wanted to see Heath Ledger, because he killed himself and won an oscar. Jan-c slept through everything except the parts with Heath, which she asked me to wake her up for, and I tried to sleep but there were loud parts that woke me up. mommy said it was too long, and they should have cut out the parts of the movie that didn't have Heath or Morgan Freedman in them, but Daddy said he feels like he has gotten more for his money if a movie is long. Mommy says sometimes it is better not to try to understand Daddy.

Mommy thought it was silly for Batman to disguise his voice, cuz he just sounded stupid, but if they were going to disguise it they should have done something high tech, or had him do an accent, or talk like scooby doo. Actually, that was Jan-c who wanted him to talk like scooby do, I thought muttley would be better. I think the whole movie would be better if they had just replaced Batman with Lassie, and Alfred with one of the monkeys in Planet of the Apes, and Commisioner Gordon with Deputy dog.

There actually were dogs in this movie, Rottweillers played the bad guys and of course German Shepherds were the good guys. Batman kept throwing the rotties around, but I thought it would be cooler if Batman had some super power where he could just look at them and hypnotize them, so they rolled on their backs for belly rubs.

But the saddest thing, if Heath did kill himself for some reason to do with this movie, is that, even though his performance was amazing, the movie pretty much stunk. 

Apache

This is a story about my Dad's dog, Apache. I still think of him as my Dad's dog, even though my Dad is with his beloved wife now,( one can only hope, cuz he has a lot of explaining to do, ) and A patch( his hood name) is living with another nice man who absolutely will not allow him to wear baggie pants or teeth grills or rap about his bitches whereas my Dad, in his drunken phases, was a bit more lenient.

This is a story about when my Dad was still alive, and living in a place that I will call Solar town west, with Apache. Dad, who will be known as Bud in this story, because that was his name, well Bud got sick, and had to go into the hospital, lets say he suffered from telerium dremens. I went out and spent 2 weeks in the Arizona sun, mostly walking Apache and being snubbed by the third rate ICU nurses in the hospital i will call like Hell you'll get Well. bud was always telerious and talking crazy when I went to see him, but his friends would tell me how they had seen him and he was lucid and walking down the hall. The social worker had called me and told me I had to come to the hospital and make some "end of life " decisions for Bud, and one of the doctors told me that Bud was basically a vegetable, but I never saw those same Doctors or social workers after my Dad was out at the nursing station doing Rodney Dangerfield impersonations. They were convieniently on vacation once Bud was up and reciting limericks for the volunteers. Bud was moved to rehab, and they said he would be there for a month and I should research assisted living places for him. I needed to get home to california, and Bud's good friend lets call her Shaggy, just because, said we should leave Apache with this lovely woman named, lets say Butch, until Bud was out of the hospital. My heart was so touched by the goodness, the faith and Charity showed by these kind people of Solar Town, my spirit soared on the wings of loving-kindness. I was home about a month later when my Dad called from the hospital to tell me that he was going home to live, and he wanted Apache back, and Butch wouldn't give him back. Now,  Butch really was a nice lady, she just got attached to Apache, and was afraid Bud couldn't look after him. It ended up with us having to drive out to Solar Town and buy a gallon of chivas regal and some cigars for Butch, and after much discussion with Bud's so called friends who all wanted Butch to keep A patch, we finally got Dad his dog back.

 The point of the story, if there is one, is that Butch got very sick and had to go in a group home a year after this whole incident, while our hero Bud continued on for a few years more, and passed out of this life at home with his beloved Apache at his side.

 The wonder of this story is that if I had written it for a remedial English comp class, the teacher would have ripped it up and thrown it in my face, whereas now it is published, for all eternity , in cyberspace.