Hatching an unnecessary Plan

A week ago, I got these earth-shattering words. "You're afraid of people! Haha! What a queer! Man, I can't believe my son is THAT gay! As a matter of fact, queers usually aren't afraid of people, especially MEN! Hah hah hahh! Gaaaay!"

My Dad is bad with words sometimes. What he meant to say was "Look, I don't like going into stores by myself while you sit outside and sweat. Come in with me, you might see something you like." Whilst that's true, that's precisely the reason I DON'T go into stores! That, and I usually forget to bring a shirt. And...it's not fun going into a store after sweating for five hours. I will bring a spare shirt from now on.

My parents think I'm afraid of people. It's not that I'm afraid of them, I just don't like them. I am learning to like them though. Most people are nice if you're nice to them, I've learned, and more than most of them leave you alone. The others wield machetes and axes and are thusly easy to single out...and avoid. Some of them even wear noserings and have retina piercings and stuff. Creepy.


Then I got challenged by my Mom. "Wow, Kev, it isn't wrong to be sensitive to your feminine side- that doesn't make you gay at all! It just means that you have a healthy respect for women. Even if you were gay, that wouldn't make you a bad person, not at all. We would accept you still with open, loving arms."

My Mom is bad with words sometimes. What she meant to say was "Kev, you know you look twice as conspicuous sitting in the car than going into the store, right?"

She speaks with knowledge beyond her years. So, I began taking baby steps. I went into Love's with my Mom and Brother to get some coffee. Then I went into Love's by myself to rob them get a refill with that awesome new cup. Vengeance will be mine!



So, this weeks step, I will be venturing into a teenager-filled, happy-go-lucky place of vengeance (I may be describing it wrong). As you know, I have a teenager phobia, because...uhh...well, they creep me out, for one. With their closed-minded, free-thinkingness. And their hipster qualities. Oh, and their tendency to befriend others their age. They are also sometimes unstable.


I've got to (not that I am dreading it) work again this weekend. It isn't so bad, you know. You get a sense of accomplishment. Plus learn a trade. And make cash, with which to purchase things you don't need.

Yet, as I had spent two or so years addicted to the Internet, being up at all hours, I lost some sense of responsibility. Actually, I did not have a sense of responsibility to begin with. I don't know how my parents could have broken my Internet addiction. I think it's a case where you just have to hit rock bottom, which I did. God has kept me from "backsliding" into the wallowing pit of despair known as Internet addiction.

After that, I began cooking meals for my Aunt and Granny for about 8 months. Lots of responsibility, lots of work. I got paid ($40 a week or something), learned a bit about cooking, matured, and gained TONS of memories. Like that time I actually, by some force of good or evil, I do not know which (God knows), made good meatloaf. Wow. It's like stumbling on the cure for cancer, and not being able to recreate it. You try and try...but the cure always comes out dry or bland. Sadly, on occasion, dry and bland.


Then I did work with my Dad, sometimes working four days a week. Man, how exhausting. A workday is 10-14 hours in the sun, getting up at 2:30 or 3 AM. That also lasted for 7+ months. Right about as summer ended I lost the will to go on, and also the work dried up. However, I retained my ability to stay on a daytime schedule. That made way for my Dad to go serve his time in jail (luuuuck). Now he's out and fully licensed, and we're at it again. How long will I last this time?

It's all about, in my eyes, maturity. Like the Apostle Paul says in I Corinthians chapter 13 verse 11, (quoting by memory): When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I reasoned as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

1Co 13:11 (what it actually says): When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.


OK, not too far off. I am writing scripture on my walls what for to memorize them. Fruits of the Spirit from memory: Love, Joy, Peace, Longsuffering, Gentleness, Goodness, Faith, Meekness, Temperance (Galatians 5:22-23).

[Galatians 5:]

22	But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,
23	Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

Yes...yes...coming along quite nicely. Now I just need to figure out what on earth a fruit of the Spirit is! Could it be an apple? AN HOLY ORANGE?!?!



In other news, I think (think) I found a cool study aid thing. One of these days, I'll confirm just what a sea of brass is (sea in I Kings 7:23 also means "artificial basin"). And also, since I like this Bible so much...I am, I guess, picky about how a Bible looks- too small or big of print and I have much trouble reading...I want to get a cover for it, for so that I can take it with me. It's a dangerous world out there; just yesterday, a fly actually pooped on my Bible! I saw it right before my eyes.

Either that or, as my Pa antagonized, it was laying maggots on it! Eeeeeeeew!!



[plan hatched and set in motion; update sometime this week]

Once Upon a Water Day: Demon Vans

Today I got water. I am getting water for the Wilson's, and it's...bitter. Luckily, today is was only around 100 degrees. Joy. To my surprise, the Wilson's had someone deliver water for them last night, so I didn't have to get them water. It's about $5 an hour work, and...half of that hour is spent in full sun, the other half sitting in half sun. I am, out of desperation, going to buy a pump, which will reduce the time considerably (hopefully). Or else ask my Pastor to put a voodoo curse on them...but I don't know if RJ is in the business of voodoo curses.


As I left to get water, the haunted van, called the Skully Van, pulled into the well. There was a dead body laying in the back-passenger side (the door of the van was gone), and it was leaving a trail of skulls, softly glowing shades of zap green and electric blue. I didn't see a driver, but alot of fog rolled in, and I heard howling...huh. I ...wisely decided to wait on our property and read my shiny, new Bible. It is awesome. I learned that a Sadducee is one who disbelieves (kuffar!) in the supernatural (and according to Scofield's note, especially the Resurrection).

Anyway, I heard this deathly wail coming from...the yard next door. I got out of the truck to investigate. I figured it was a wandering demon-spawn from the haunted, Skully Van, and was thusly apprehensive. Then I realized the deathly wail was a deathly cat wail. And it was coming from our porch. I decided to investigate further.

As my investigation trudged on, the path to my porch seeming...turbid, and filled with crows...I realized it sounded like Vicious, our resident (token) being indwelt by Satan. I allowed the thought of leaving her in her pitiful wails to linger for a bit, but I decided against it. Curse my goodness and virtue. And ...valiance. And...imperturbability. Oh, and my humility. Curse that, too.


But as I peered through the screen, I found it was actually Popoe the kitten! Meowing frantically. As soon as he saw me he started wallowing towards me hazily, out of breath. He was clinging to the door before that. He knew that was where he came from...and the environment he was in was inhospitable. Most young mammals do think that when they step outside of air conditioning in Summer for the first time.
I imagine he was very happy to see me, because a few seconds after I picked him up, he began purring. He must have known he was safe now, for he fell into a crack leading to Hell, and I reached down and pulled him out. I surely would not abide long in this miserable place, he must have thought.

He started purring even more once I stepped inside the door with him, confirming his highest hopes and wishes and desires. His sweetest dream had come true; he would survive this day. I took him into my room (the coldest place in the house) and set him on my bed. He was exhausted. There he lay for two and a half hours. Poor little guy!

Popoe napping with Tiger. Picture taken around a week ago.


I got two loads of water for the Thirsty Wolf. He took 500 and 350. I'm so good to my neighbor-customers...oh! I got to wave at some road graders. You can't see right nor left when exiting his property, so I stepped out on foot to see if the coast was clear (safety first). There was the grader.

He was turning around, and coming back to me, turning from east to west. I was on the south side of the mock T-intersection. I got some pictures of what the road looks like before anyone rolls over it, below (picture titled: Road, graded and found wanting (apparently so, because they did a second pass)):

Just imagine if those rocks were diamonds and rubies! I'd be rich! On his return (it's around 100 yards to the main road), I waved. He waved back, and since I had a smile on my face, he smiled back. Great! So I pulled out. To my surprise, there was a second grader behind him! I backed back up...back...backly... ...back. I waved to this second grader, but he was too busy staring amazedly at the rocks and stuff flying up under his grading plow. Let's call it a grading plow. He was mystified...maybe he was imagining them as diamonds and rubies, too.

------------------------------

-------------------------------------
--------Kev Meets the Demon Vans--------
---------------------------------------------------
-------------------------

I exited TW's yard and got water for us. We took 900 gallons, and the rest of it slowly bled into our yard. Also, it rained this morning, before sunrise, hard but not long. It was lighting all night, and the power has been going out lately. A ghostly shriek is typically reported by someone or other right before the power goes out (the Blabbity loves this stuff). We were the ones that heard it the other day...I am usually awoken by the sound of my fan turning off, but this time...I don't know what I heard. I was asleep, so that counts as -SEVERELY- tired, so maybe I was imagining things.

On the way to drop the last load of our water, I got to wave at the graders again. They go through a bouncy ride on those things. Bounce, bounce, thwomp...they wear hardhats in the machines, need I say more?

They both waved this time. The guy who waved the first time seemed as happy to see me as I was him. I backed up out of their way, and typically, I imagine people do not do that. That would make me happy if I were a road grader.

As I went to lock the gate (I expected to have to go out again, thus left it unlocked), I noticed a fire brewing some half a mile away. Since I had no greater work to do, I valiantly drove to the scene. There was a van behind me. It began speeding up. I was watching, then noticed it was one of the Demon Vans!

I turned down a back road, hoping to lose him. He kept after me. Honking his horn, each blast sounding like a mixture of a typical horn, evil laughter, and wailing, while hungry, thirsting globules of darkness were launched in differing directions. They sizzled the ground, leaving small, 2-6" craters with walls that look like freshly poured asphalt.

The van bounced crazily along, while the 70 gallons I had in the truck kept me weighed down enough to continue in stability. I cut down a wash that thankfully "went through," now facing south. I exited the other side to see the other Demon Van, known as the Skully Van- dropping faintly glowing, zap green and electric blue skulls!

He was coming west, so I turned east. He had to turn around. I sped away, and soon noticed the other van coming towards me. I pulled up into an abandoned yard which has an equally abandoned building project of a house on it. Skully Van reached me first, and I used the momentary confusion to cut east, making my way to the main street. Demon Van had to turn around.

Once on main street, I turned right. The Skully Van was after me. Speeding up faster and faster. I turned into the left lane (no one was coming) and slammed on the brakes. Skully Van reacted much quicker than I had hoped, and Demon Van was closing in. I put it in reverse, as the Skully Van did the same. He was copying me. Stalling me.

I awkwardly backed into a side street. Skully Van did not turn, but continued backing down the road. Then Demon Van turned in, accelerating fiercely. I blew threw (we'll get that once we've had a cup of coffee, men!) a few stop signs, and finally had to turn. I knew Skully Van was probably heading to cut me off. I had to act quickly. I decided to cut up a wash. I knew it didn't continue long, but I may be able to use it as a ramp. Once in the yard, I began doing reverse donuts. I noticed Skully Van had pulled up...and was waiting. No matter where I went, he would be able to block me or chase easily. And Demon Van was climbing the wash. He had gotten stuck once already.

I peeled out through the yard, back the way I came, to the main street, not stopping as I blew through to the opposite street. Skully Van was close behind me, and I was pushing the truck to its limits. Worse, someone was coming at me, and the road was not wide enough for two cars!

Luckily, they turned into a driveway to let us pass. More bad news: a dead end was quick approaching. Skully Van had slowed some, and I had sped some. I braked hard and cut the corner, flying up over the lip of the road. It was only a foot or so high, and it was relatively soft.

I realized I couldn't turn in...midair, so I half kept going straight. My heart fell as I discovered cars in real life don't "catch the road" and turn whichever way they're pointing. I slid to a stop, hitting the lip of the road which was at that point almost 3 feet high. I backed up and hit something...the Skully Van, no doubt. It slid a few inches, then its tires dug into the ground, notifying me with a sickening-feeling thud of denied movement. I felt trapped. As I put it into drive I heard the horn honking. Wailing, laughter, and horn...

I caught part of the lip, turning the truck a bit sideways. No...it was the Skully Van. It was pushing me sideways. Luckily, that caused him to get his front end stuck in the same fashion as I before him. I suspected Demon Van would be coming to cut me off again. They seemed to be able to coordinate. My fears were confirmed.

He was about a quarter mile from me. Acting quickly, I took the first left into a working yard of some sort. I could ditch the truck and hide in an old, dying classic car. It turned out to be the Grader business. I wondered what Mike and Tim (that's what I named the two road graders) would think when they found me dead in my truck, all crumpled up. I held back a faint sliver of hope that I could escape from this corral of death, but then where to?

The vans seemed to know they had me cornered. Demon Van approached, then sat waiting for Skully Van. Skully Van showed up in short order, then they turned in unison. In an evil manner.

I resounded to at least hit them once, to go out fighting. It's strange the things that race through your mind at a time like that. Knowing there are no consequences for the actions you're about to take...you'll die if you fight, and you'll die if you don't. I didn't even know what kind of horrific, demon armor these vans might have acquired in the no-doubt many days they spent being tuned up in Hell.

About that time, some yellow thing flew into the side of them. It was a road grader! My eyes were irresistibly drawn to the tires. I remembered the days spent on a borrowed tractor, how the engine struggled to torque against the traction of the wheels. Like a lean horse, muscles rippling under fine, shining hair. The tires trembled evenly and skipped treads as the grader pushed the vans sideways slowly, crippling them. I loved the sound it made. Just like the old, struggling tractor. Except this was on a much larger scale.

There was enough room for me to drive around them, so I did. As I passed, I saw it was Mike in the grader!

Mike and Tim travel around together. So I can wave at one then the other. I looked back, drawn to the morbid scene of the vans stuck in place.

Tim had driven his grader forward. He drove beside them, then made like he was going to make a circle about them. He stopped, then cut his wheels and put it in reverse, crushing the driver's window of the Skully Van with his gannon. I drove out of there, headed for home.


I know of few times I have been happier to be here. There's a moral in this experience, looking back. If you outwardly let people know you're a friendly person, you never know when they may come to your aid. Otherwise, why should they bother? Also, wait until it's a forest fire to care next time.


...or...no, wait, none of that happened! Oh, man!



...okay, guys...welcome the "Exaggerating Grossly" tag...