Gunny Walker

  So here's the deal. I quit blogging for a week and a half. It took me a couple of weeks to catch back up. So if you want to read the whole ordeal, then you need to go back to the thirteenth. The most annoying thing about blogger is that they post these things in reverse. Well, I guess it's not the most annoying thing. It always keeps the most relevant posts near the top. I know I'd get bored wading through posts that I had already read. Of course, you could just post the most recent blog on the page. Then you'd have to read it every day. Wait where was I going with this post?
  I quit blogging for a week and a half. I posted "post blog" I guess you would say. So if you are reading this now, stop. Go back to the thirteenth without reading anymore. If you are reading this because you just read the one below it, then quit. This post is meaningless.
  Well not meaningless. I mean really. It says a lot about my character. I think. It says something. Because anytime that a person reaches out to other people, doesn't it mean something? After all that's what a blog is. Isn't it? One person reaching out to others? I'm not sure what it may be. I do know a couple of psych majors. Maybe I could ask them.
  So in closing, I'd like to correct the previous statement. This post is not meaningless. It's insignificant, but when you consider the universe as whole, what isn't?
(These are not real questions to be answered. They are merely rhetorical ramblings. Say it with me, ri-tor-i-kal. I knew you could. And no, I'm not dragging out my HTML charts to find the proper symbols for that pronunciation either. Click the link and figure it out yourself.)

  I'm not sure if I have made this clear. I watched a few years ago when my father's kidneys quit working. He was told by the doctors that he had food poisoning. But it was pretty bad before he actually went to a doctor. He had quit urinating for a few days. He was turning yellow and sweating piss. Well, we don't know what it was, but it sure smelled like it. The doctors told him that his organs were going to start shutting down one by one if he did nothing. Or something would rupture from retaining too much fluids. So he took the steroids. The steroids hurt his vision. Something to do with a cataract or something. He always said it couldn't be helped, but I don't know if that's fact or what he told me. He also had to go on dialysis before his kidneys actually did kick in. It was hard to look at those tubes coming out of his chest. He quit drinking right before he died. The problem is that quitting drinking wasn't enough. He would then drink Dr. Peppers until he got sick. I guess water is for the fishes.
  He smoked most of my life. Until he couldn't breath anymore. He eventually got pneumonia. It was so bad that it pretty much came down to a life or death situation. They held him in the hospital for several days. That's when they found the cancer in his colon. He only quit smoking when he couldn't handle it anymore. Even going to the bar made him throw up. He would cough so hard it was amazing that he never got a hernia.
  He was practically deaf. Hanging out in loud places like bars or something did that to him. You would have to shout for him to hear you sometimes. Of course, when it was first suggested that he get a hearing aid, he wouldn't. His hearing only got worse.
  There were a lot of days when he would do nothing. He just laid around. He would go three or four days without eating. Then wouldn't understand why he was so "sick." His stomach seemed to reject everything he ate. Probably because it had gotten so weak. It was like this right before he went into the hospital the last time. Except the very day before. He ate like a pig. More than I can eat and I am a pretty big boy. Then he started vomiting. His stomach was hurting. He was swollen like a watermelon. It turns out he was full. The food was leaving the only way it could. The way it came in.
  I can still remember the summer that I worked at the bar. It was while he was on dialysis. The doctor said that it was "food poisoning." Everyone else knew it was drinking. Drinking is a type of food poisoning. It's the toxins that actually make you drunk. Of course, you couldn't tell him that. When the doctor let him drink again, he did. I was there when he did. I remember I gave him a long look as I opened the beer. His best friend even commented on my look. Of course, another one of his friend set it straight to me. "The beer almost killed him once and he picked it right back up. I guess it'll kill him eventually," he said. I quit the bar a short time later.
  A couple of years ago my Granny Gina, his mother, was diagnosed with cancer. Of course, we didn't find out straight away.
  My brother was getting married in Hawaii. My parents offered to pay for GG's ticket, but she refused to attend the wedding. We found out later that she was injured from a car wreck and that she didn't want anyone to know. Granny Gina was too blind to be driving. Of course, a few months later they found her cancer. My mother told me about it straight away. Then my parents told me that they were trying to get her to move to Tennessee. I told my mother that she wouldn't. If she was well enough to come here, then she was well enough to stay in Texas on her own. If she wasn't well enough, well, I didn't mention that option.
  After about six months of my father constantly traveling back and forth to Waco, Granny Gina passed away. She had originally turned down chemo and when she did ask for it, it was too late. I suspected that would happen after her ex-husband.
  Grandpa Lewis got cancer when I was in high school. He said that if radiation could kill that many in WWII, it couldn't be good for him. That's why he turned down chemo. He died shortly thereafter. I don't remember much about it. It's been quite some time ago.
  My father's sister died before I was born. She had diabetes. She had leukemia. I think. All this stuff comes second hand. She never took care of herself. The grave diggers made up a third of her memorial service.
  Diane's daughter? Tammy is dead. I don't know what. No one bothered telling my dad until the day of the funeral. Or they didn't think about telling him. Does it matter. Before she died, Tammy was on welfare. She had one son by a guy who isn't ever around anymore. She had a daughter by a Mexican who was deported before Maria was even born. He went back to his wife and kids.
  Diane's son is working for a carnival. The only time that anyone hears from him is when he is needing money or is in jail. He was stranded by the carnival in Idaho after GG's death. He was back working with them when my father died. He called him the night of the funeral. My mother told him that the man that he had grown up with as a brother had died. He then said that he was sorry to hear it. He was saving up money to go see his sister. Mom then told him that she had died last year. He asked about his nephew. He volunteered to go to a boys home while his mother was still alive. He wanted to get out of the projects. Maria is with her aunt. Who knows what kind of life she is living.
  I've got a lot of family that rolled over and quit. I quit Wal-mart over seven months ago. What has it added up to? Three jobs and quite a bit of my savings dwindled. The last job was some crappy job for less than 2/3 of what I made at Wal-Mart. A failed purchase of a house. What's the point here? It's time to get my ass in gear. There are too many Walkers who have rolled over and died. I will not be one of them.
  My life has been pretty pathetic for the past seven months. I haven't done anything significant. It's time for some shit to change. (I just hope I am not being bi-polar like Uncle Wesley. That's Mom's side of the family. If I get terrible from there, I haven't got a chance.)

  I went to court today. The sale was set aside. That means that I did not buy a house last year. Of course, I'm not sure what happens to the money that I have been paying to the county for a purchase and property taxes. Since I didn't have to appear in court, I didn't wear the suit. That solved the AC problem. I managed to get a couple of copies of the Tennessean with my dad's obituary while in Nashville. I need to go look into getting them preserved now.

  So here's the deal. Yesterday, I drove my brother and his wife to the get a rental car and made an appointment to get my car worked on. I've been putting off getting my car worked on. When I picked them up at the airport, a week or so ago, I realized that I need new shocks. The three of us were enough to weigh the shocks down and cause the tires to rub. I'll have to get that repaired and get new tires. It's going to cost a mint. I'll also need to get my air conditioning repaired. It figures that I am going to have to wait until Tuesday before they can locate the parts. It's going to be hot riding to court tomorrow in a suit with no AC.
  My sister-in-law broke down in the rental office yesterday. She found out a few months ago that he had ran up several thousands of dollars of credit card debt without her knowing about it. Of course, the thing is that he bought her a new SUV for valentine's day. She seemed pretty excited about it. Of course, when you are pretty deep in debt, it's not time to buy new trucks. They are going broke. Eventually this whole matter is going to lead to divorce. She won't be the one to put her foot down and tell my brother to get it in gear. (Of course, she won't get a job to get help pay it off either.)
  The thing is that she told me that he has been spending all this money on sex. She has lost trust with him and says that this has been going on since his first wife. He's been using money from his business for it as well. It's a pretty nasty mess all around and I don't want any part of it.

  The funeral is over. It was much better than I expected. Two of my dad's best friends got up and spoke about him. Of course, there was the party afterwards. It was a very fitting tribute. The preacher read a poem that some one wrote about my father. RC got up and said some very moving words. Then his friend JP got up and told a story about him. I had heard it before, but it's classic for my Dad.
  One year my father had a Christmas tree at the bar. December 24th rolled around and JP asked my dad what he had planned to do with it. My dad said that he could have it. He even helped him load into the back of his truck. JP offered money for it, but my father wouldn't take anything for it. The next morning JP told his wife about it and they went out to look at the tree. It turned out that it was just a stick. The tree was so dead that all the remaining needles blew off on the ride home. JP's wife then asked if he had actually paid my father for it. Six months later my father took JP on a trip without telling him where. It turned out to be a nursery that had been closed for quite some time. My father then asked him for landscaping advice and which stick would look best in the yard.
  I had a lot of people offer to help with the remodeling of my father's house in Nashville. I also even had a few job offers. I had a few schmucks tell me before that Ingram was a good place to work at. Of course, being that they are schmucks I took it with a grain of salt. My dad's friend RC told me that I should go out there and get a job. He's a boss on first shift. He said that they are so hard up to keep people that actually want to work third shift that they would teach me how to drive a cherry picker. I guess I'll consider it after the funeral.

  So today was visitation. There were at least fifty people at the funeral home today. There were a lot of grown men crying today. I was very impressed with my mother as well. She has been holding up really well and she knew almost everybody's name today. Food has started showing up. People have been bringing her sandwiches, BBQ, and so many pies that she should be diabetic by the end of the week. My brother and I have also had to go onto MeMa patrol. We have to keep her away from my mother. She has been upsetting Mom too much.
  I guess that my brother and sister-in-law will be leaving Wednesday. They are going to drive back. They don't have the money to get a plane ticket back. The ticket to Tennessee cost them 400 dollars. I'm not really sure how they could afford that. Of course, to be broke they sure have been buying a lot of four dollar lattes since they have been here.
  The really frustrating thing is when my brother talks about how much money he makes. Either he's lying or he makes more money in a month than I make in a year. Of course, either way I get pretty angry about it.
  We all packed up and went to Santa Fe (pronounced Santa Fee) yesterday. Yesterday was father's day and decoration day at my mother's family's cemetery. Quite a bit of that particular area of Maury County. (Pronounced murray county.) So pretty much anybody within a five mile radius were there.
  In other news, I went to the temp agency to get my check. I also told them that I would be able to return back to work Wednesday assuming that there was no family drama. Of course, when they called last Thursday to tell me that my check would be available at the office, I should have suspected something. I had always picked up my check at the job site. They pulled me into the office to tell me that my contract had been terminated. So I am once again unemployed. I'm going to keep this quiet until after the funeral.

  Tomorrow is the day. We have visitation on Monday and the funeral on Tuesday. I've spent so much time on my father's cell phone telling folks about it. My mother arranged the whole ceremony. My mother has a cousin that is going to conduct the services. I don't like the idea of a complete stranger conducting the services. All he going to do is go up there and give a sermon. Of course, after the funeral, there will be a party at the bar. So, at least my father will get his proper send off.
  Of course, I thought I would share some of the stories that were telling last night.
  One year, my father had decided to go to downtown Nashville to distribute clothes to the homeless. The homeless said they didn't need any clothes. They could get all they needed from the missions. The clothes that my father would have given them would have been burned for heat. They did however clean my father out of his other supplies. From then on, it became a tradition. Every year for Christmas, he went to downtown Nashville and gave the homeless beer and cigarettes. And he always came back empty-handed.
  For a few years on New Years Eve, he would actually close the bar and hold a private party for his regulars. It was a big affair. He would even rent them a limo so that no one ever got a DUI.
  My father would attend Titans games. The truth is that he was a Cowboys fan, but the Titans made a pretty good fix. He rented a parking pass from the Ramada and would frequently stay there as well. One year he showed up with a shopping cart full of beer. (Of course, this story involves everybody's favorite drinkers, the homeless. I guess he was a bit of a celebrity in the homeless community by then.) Eventually, he decided that it was time to go to the room. He had to attend the game the next day. The thing is that my father with his overalls, three month beard, and drunken state was barred by security. They thought that he was homeless as well. He told them that he had room there. It just so happens that one of my father's friends was at the desk when security called to check his story. His friend vouched for him and he was eventually admitted into the hotel.
  Growing up was sometimes like being on sitcom.
  RIP deddy.

  Well, it's happened. My father quit breathing about 10:30 pm. I went to the station to get one of the nurses. His breathing became much more labored and we all got up to hold his hands. My mother kept leaning in and hollering thing things at him "I love you" and "Love of my life." (My father was pretty deaf.) We also kept telling him to just go to sleep. He kept moving his mouth so we were all pretty sure that he was awake. He just didn't have the breath. His eyes seemed to be cracked the whole time he was in the hospital, but then they were wide open.
  He let out one hard sigh and stopped. I went to the nurses station and told them that he had stopped breathing. One came in and checked his heartbeat. It was still fifty beats a minute. The nurse removed his oxygen mask. This greatly upset MeMa. In my opinion, it doesn't do any good if he isn't breathing, but what do I know? To her, I'm still a young pup.
  My mother had been upset by MeMa enough. She asked the other nurse to replace it. It wasn't worth arguing with MeMa at a time like this. Of course, MeMa did manage to upset us all by asking for the nurses name. I think that even rattled the nurse a bit. She said that if we wanted the oxygen to stay on we should have said so. It would have been okay to leave it on. The nurses checked in periodically to check my father's pulse. We watched it drop from fifty to thirty to twelve. There was even a time where the nurse only heard a single heartbeat. Ten minutes later she declared his heart as stopped. Of course, we stayed there the whole time and only moved or let go of his hand to let the nurse to get to the bed.
  It was shocking that his lungs were the first thing to go. Of course, his right heel had turned black due to lack of circulation, but the lungs were the first thing to stop completely.
  Both of the nurses came in for the final check. It was 11:30 and they confirmed that his heart had stopped for good.
  We sat there for thirty minutes telling old stories about my father. He was a character. He used to run a bar in Smyrna and one of the nurses said that they were sorry that they didn't meet him sooner. Then we packed up everything and left the hospital. The nurses had the name of the funeral home. Well, we couldn't remember the name, but we remembered that it was in Smyrna, and there is only one there.
  Good night folks.

  The doctors broke the news to us yesterday. They are not going to operate. My father has no chance. It's only a matter of time.
  My mother left the hospital yesterday. She's left to shower and she went to Wal-mart one day. (I can't remember when. The days are starting to blur.) Yesterday, however she left to get her hair cut. MeMa went with her and they were gone for a few hours. I was sitting there reading a book that I had found on the bargain rack at Books-A-Million. It was The Secret Life of Germs. (I was frustrated with the other conquest, Winnie-The-Pooh on Problem Solving.) Then one of my father's doctor showed up. He was interested in my book. I explained how I was just cruising the bargain books. He was talking to me about his family. I think that he was trying to comfort me in some way.
  The truth is that a few years ago, I watched my father drink until he couldn't piss anymore. When the doctor told him that he could begin drinking in moderation, he did anything but that. A year ago he was drinking three or four six packs a day. He smoked until he couldn't breathe anymore. He has forty percent of his lung capacity. He always seems to get sick whenever he hangs around smokers too much. He had a hip operation, but he's laid around so much that hardly can move anymore. Just before this trip to the hospital, he even bought a scooter. Of course, he can't handle the heat of being in an air conditioned car. Of course, he's cold all the time. I suspect that is because of poor circulation. Of course, he's had a blood clot which often comes from blood circulation.
  Of course, I haven't had any of that stuff confirmed. It's just my suspicion.
  I was telling Westmoreland about how surprised I was about how he could almost be killed by drinking, and still go back. He claimed it was food poisoning, but his kidneys and liver were weakened by years of drinking. Of course, the doctor told a great story about his own father.
  He talked about how his own father worked too hard. He worked so much that he hardly ever saw his father. When he was a kid, he was never going to work as much as his father. Of course, he became a doctor. He makes great money, and just like his father, he doesn't work to hard. Of course, it was never work that bothered him as a kid. It was that he never saw his father.
  The thing is that he wound up never seeing his kids either. He worked hard. He played hard. He tried so hard to not become his father and still became him anyway. The doctor then related the situation to a lot of the people that he sees in his practice. He said that he sees a lot of people with blinders. Morbidly obese that only see when they actually eat well and not the binges in between. People that wreck their lives so badly that they end up living under bridges. Things like that.
  The truth is that you need a life shattering event to remove those blinders.
  For his father it was the death of his mother. I don't need to go into details. That's for his blog if he has one. The doctor had his watching his father go through the ordeal.
  The truth is, I wish that my brother and sister-in-law were there. They've acted more like tourists than grieving family. With a father, that could go at any time, they've spent a lot of time away from the hospital. They've been driving around looking at the sites. Walking around the square. Shopping. And that last one is the kicker.
  Well, he and his wife went to the square. I called him on his phone. Our mother wants us to go to Nashville to look at my father's house. My father bought a house in Nashville at the tax auction and has been getting it fixed up. My mother wants us to go up there and look at it. I can use showing my brother around as an excuse to check stuff out.
  The problem is that when my brother showed up without his wife. We went to the square to find her. The thing is that he had no idea where she was. They had split up. He got out of the car to go to the bank to see if he could get some money wired from Texas. I went to the gas station because by the time we had gotten to the square the gas light had come on. I had filled up my mother's car the day before yesterday. By the time I got back to the square, he had spotted me. He seemed quite irritated. I asked if he knew where his wife was. He didn't. He then asked where a Western Union was. I said I didn't know. He then asked when I would meet the contractor in Nashville. I said in a couple of hours. I needed to get him his money before the banks closed. It was one in the afternoon. My brother got out and said that he would walk back to the hospital. Of course, he wouldn't have a choice. I had the keys to my car and was driving my mother's car.
  I went to the house, delivered the money, and checked the place out. I told Gregory that we were going to shut it down for a few weeks. I also told him about the condition of my father. I had to after he gave me the get well card for him.
  When I got back to the hospital, I got the rest of the story about my brother and his wife. It turns out that they had gotten into a fight. My brother was upset and started driving crazier. That's when my sister-in-law decided suggested that he park the car and then they walk on opposite sides of the square. They would meet on the other side cooled off. Of course, she had to walk back to the hospital because she didn't know that he was with me. Then he walked back after he got out of the car.
  When I got back to the hospital, she was in the room and he was in the ICU waiting room. This is not the time for this crap to come out.

  So here's the deal. My father got the blood clot and had a large part of bowels died off. Will he live? Who knows. The doctor told us today that he only gave my father 24 to 48 hours. Then his organs will start shutting down one by one. Since he's had problems with his kidneys before, those are expected to go first. We've been paying a lot of attention to his urine output.
  He's slept all day. He's barely been conscious at all. Most of our time in the room is spent reading. I've been putting it on ESPN. If he wakes up, at least he'll have something to watch.
  Here's the kicker. The doctors are shocked at him. They have decided to have a meeting. Since my father has done so well. The doctors had a meeting on whether to go in for a second surgery. Without it, he won't survive. With it, he may still not survive. The doctors were supposed to get back with us about their decision. Of course, it's past midnight now and we have not heard anything.
  That last fact does not sit well with me.

  What a parade. They took out my dad's breathing tube and just put him on an oxygen mask. That was good because he got the chance to talk to all of the people that came see him. And there were a lot. About fifty. There were folks that I hadn't seen for years.
  My father ran a bar in Smyrna for years. I worked there for one summer when his kidneys were bothering him. Unfortunately, I am not a bar kind of person. There is no way that I could have taken over for him. I don't watch sports, drink, smoke, throw darts, or play pool.
  What happened is this. He has gotten a blood clot in the artery that feeds his colon and part of his lower intestine. Then it died off. So basically, his colon has died. The nurse told us yesterday (er.. day before yesterday.) that his colon has been removed. Now the thing to find out now is whether they can sow up the ends, get him a colostomy bag, or even if he will live through this. The nurse didn't know. I was glad that he told us something.
  The best part was that he knew everyone that came in. His best friend Pratt works for the Mills Corporation. He sets up new malls and rents out the space for them. The first words out of my dad's mouth were, "Is the mall still open?"
  It's amazing how much family has shown up. My uncle who hasn't spoken to my father since I've been alive. My aunt who is really scared because her own husband has just been diagnosed with colon cancer. Of course, MeMa is there. She's pretty much in shock. MeMa doesn't deal with some everyday events well. There is no telling how she is handling this.

So I went to work yesterday. It was a pretty average day until the officer showed up. I was called to the office and I was pretty upset. How could I have messed anything up. It had been a slow day so far. I hadn't had the chance to mess anything up yet. Of course, it was a shock to find out that it was because there was police officer there.
  Was I being arrested? Had I messed up something on the house? Was I being served some papers?
  No. The police officer said that my mother had been trying to get in touch with me. She left me a phone number that I can only assume is her botched up cell phone number. I had to go home and start looking through the directory. I had a pretty good idea what all of it was about.
  My father went to the emergency room Saturday night with problems. It turned out that it's concerning my father. They had decided to do some exploratory surgery while I was in court. I'm not sure what they discovered, but it's pretty serious.
  I've been through a lot with my father.
  Three months ago, he was diagnosed with colon cancer. They went in and then removed the cancer and thought that they had gotten it all. He's smoked most of his life and has only forty percent capacity of his lungs. He had pneumonia a few months ago as well. That's when they found the colon cancer. They gave him oxygen tanks to take home, but he never did use them.
  A few years ago, his kidneys quit working. He got to the point that he had retained so much fluid that he had swelled up and started sweating impurities. Eventually, all of his organs would have started shutting down one by one. Of course, the doctor said that he had contracted some kind of food poisoning and that's what knocked his kidneys out. Of course, my opinion is that if he hadn't been abusing them for years by drinking, then he would have suffered from the food poisoning.
  Eventually, he took steroids to get his kidneys working again. Unfortunately, the steroids made his cataracts worse. So his vision has not been that great. That combined with his severely reduced hearing makes him scary to ride with in a car. Of course, he never got a hearing aid and only bought over the counter glasses.
  I have yet to talk to anyone but a nurse to figure out the situation, but the outlook does not look well. I picked up my brother and sister-in-law at the airport. They grabbed the first flight out of Houston. When I first saw him, he was in surgery and still unconscious. Of course, when we got back from the airport he had been moved to ICU. I talked to him for a little bit.
  He held my brother's hand and asked how was his trip. When my brother asked how he was doing, he simply said "bad." It was hard for him to talk. He has a respirator in, so we didn't want to wear him out.
  Of course, somebody called a preacher there to speak to him. It's a good thing that he was unconscious. He would have given that preacher a little fire and brimstone right back. It's disgraceful. Some man that didn't know his name yesterday wants to speak at his funeral. He doesn't even call him by the proper name. My father has NEVER been a Charles.

  I had to go to court this morning. It was delayed until next month some time. I'm too lazy to get up and look at the date right now. It was inevitable since the county is buckling in a couple of weeks.
  Of course, my air conditioning in the car dies. It figures that I have wear a suit in the middle of summer and the fan on the AC kicks the bucket. I'll have to get that fixed at my earliest opportunity. Or maybe my second earliest opportunity. I'll be kind of tired from all the sleep that I'll be missing from having two court dates in a row.
  Anyway, I've got to get some sleep before work. Later, folks.

  So, it seems that is coming to an end. I've got a court date Monday which has been delayed. I've got a court date next Tuesday which will be delayed indefinitely. Both of those will be delayed because of the motion which is scheduled to be heard Friday the 24th. The motion is to have the sale set aside. Basically, it's to negate the sale. I've come to expect this attempt. The problem is from where it came.
  The previous owners had declared bankruptcy. So they say. I have still yet to see the proof. They claim that they filed in 2000. The question is how long their bankruptcy protection was supposed to last, but without the proof of their bankruptcy, I have no way of knowing how long that is. From what I can tell bankruptcy protection lasts three to five years. That is unless you change it in the middle of the bankruptcy protection period.
  The problem is this motion to set aside the sale. It was filed by the county. It aggravates me to no end that I didn't lose. The county gave in and I don't even know why. I can not begin to express how frustrating that is. I've been waiting for a year and a half on this property. I get all the way to the ragged end and it gets pulled out from beneath me.
  It's times like this that I want to give in. But it's always darkest before the dawn and other such sayings. I get to try it again and I will win eventually. I've just got to keep trying. I may not get my money in time to spend at the next tax auction on July 13th, but determination will win out.
  My lawyer is asking that I get ten percent paid to me since my purchase date. There aren't really any laws to support it, but it doesn't hurt to ask.
  Hopefully I'll have him some much simpler work for him in about a year and a half.

  So, yesterday a coworker was asking me about the house in Nashville. He asked how much would I get back if the sale gets voided. I told him somewhere in the neighborhood of six thousand dollars. He then proceeded to ask me if I could loan him money for a bill consolidation.
  So, this guy has known me for a full 3 1/2 weeks and has the audacity to ask for a two thousand dollar loan. He then asks if I would have loaned the money someone that I had known for a while. I told him no.
  See this money is my "go to hell" fund. Eventually by being diligent and working hard, this thing is going to grow into enough money that I can tell my employer to go to hell. If I get pissed off at the treatment that I'm getting, can't manage to get off for some special family engagement, or just get tired and decide it is time for me to live out my dream of walking across the country, then I'll have my fund to do so.
  The thing is this guy is broke, and everybody knows it. It's just a matter of time before he crashes. He's just gotten into a big argument with his roommate and kicked him out. He's working two jobs. Soon, he's going to have to start a third job.
  In other news, I got a letter yesterday. It seems that I have THIRD court date to attend. I have a court date in Chancery Court on June 24th. The plaintiff wants to set aside the sale for the property. This just saves me some trouble. This means that if I lose, then I have to proof that the county needs to pay me back my money.
  Of course, this motion has an interesting paragraph.

If no response is timely filed and served, the motion shall be granted and counsel or pro se litigant need not appear in court at the time and date scheduled for the hearing.

  Basically, I need to respond to them directly. If I don't they win by default. It seems to me that they are just trying to wear me down. Of course, they don't know me. I have no hobbies or even a life. I have nothing to do but fight this court case.
  Because I have nothing to lose. I'm guaranteed to get my money back if I lose.

This Penn & Teller show has a bit about creationism. It's the movement to have equal times in public schools between evolution and Christianity. Of course, the idea that evolution just cancels out Christianity is silly. After all, if you have to follow the Bible literally, then you need to quit eating that good old Pork BBQ or signing for loans for more than seven years.
  They also show various apocalyptic movements and the money that people make off of them. They also mention the popularity of the Left Behind Series. This is a great idea. All I need to do is just translate Revelation into my own private translation. Heck, I don't even really have to believe it. After all, it's all fiction. I just need to write a story about it.
  Of course, I'm not sure that I have the dedication to do it. Of course, if I could it could take off like a shot. Kinda like that film, Henry Fool. (Of course, that was fiction. Just shut up and drink your Kool-Aid.)

  Just recently in from Netflix is the first season of Penn & Teller's Showtime series.
  Here's the deal. They use a lot of strong language on their show because to call some one a quack, cheat, and a liar opens you up for lawsuits. Of course, you can call some one an emm effer, a BS'er, or an SOB for some reason. Therefore, they tackle lots of topics such as alien abductions, reflexology, and psychics using these highly unscientific terms.
  It's not your typical Penn & Teller. I didn't find it as funny as their typical specials, but there are a lot of heartfelt moments. It's pretty bad taste to have a yuk fest one moment and then dealing with some guy who is crying over his dead mother the next moment. I guess I should expect it to be a more serious subject.
  I'm off to watch Kingdom of the Spiders starring the late, great James T. Kirk. It's a movie that I recommend to no one. I expect it to be bad, and only own it because it came as two pack with Night of the Living Dead. That was two years ago, and I have still yet to watch it.