Monday, November 28, 2005
Jim Fucking Ferguson...
better not EVER let me catch his ass.
Act 1Scene 1 "Trinity Palace" (home of the queen)
11pm and all in the house are quiet as a mouse. Till some loud-ass, no-driving, yelling, crazy mother fucker named Jim Ferguson came hauling in the driveway. I was so startled I actually jumped out of my bed to look out the window. Then I tried to quietly pretend I was asleep as I prayed Amy was doing the same at the opposite end of the house. Jim and his partner in crime who remains anonymous at this point began loudly beating on the walls of Amy's bedroom in an attempt to wake her. This is what you get when you tell a man a hundred times you'll get naked with him and then DON'T! So, needless to say they got the hint when no one answered the door and decided we were asleep. They paused at the driveway in their loud ass truck and yelled a few times before making their final departure.
Act 1Scene 2 "The Queen's bedroom"
As soon as they left I immediately went to check on Amy. We were both laughing hysterically. I left a few irrate messages for a few people who were obviously still peacefully sleeping. As we sat laughing about the nonsense that had just ensued it violently struck me that I had early in the evening washed my bras and left them to dry on my front 'porch'. Now I have expensive nice bras that I spent my hard earned money on and I love them dearly. Especially my torquoise and coral colored ones. So I jumped out of bed absolutely horrified at what I was about to find. Because at this time I knew deep down that sorry fucker had stolen my bras. There was no doubt in my mind because anyone who knows Jim knows what a sneaky little shit he is. Lo and Behold I open my front door and there are three wet spots on the porch where my precious bras had once been. At this point Amy is laughing so hard she can't even talk to me. I'm so mad I can hardly stand myself. Although the situation is ridiculously funny, it's not because now I don't have my very best favorite bras, and those bitches aren't cheap! I told Amy I couldn't believe they did that, to which she replied with "Well Lacy, the front porch light is on and those things are pretty vivid." Thanks Amy...I even called the bar looking for that sorry bitch.
I've lost panties, and Jess has lost pants, but I've NEVER lost bras before, much less had them stolen right out of my own yard. That bitch is going DOWN! It's on now. Hell hath no fury like the Queens of the Trinity.
♥Oh, so vintage... 11:40 PM
