Above Ground Pools, meth heads and why my bro-in-law loves Xanex

I realize that I have abandoned you, my mulleted warriors, since I haven’t updated this blog in a long time. I haven’t abandoned you though. I was working 2 jobs trying to tip toe between the lines of being a Jamaican and “oh-my-god-I-can’t-end-up-like-my-family.” I then accepted a new job, and left both old jobs…giving me time to iron out my flannels and update this blog. I need to visit my family more often because every time I do, it merits a hilarious situation.
One lesson I did learn is, don’t build yourself an above ground pool. Let me tell you that every critter, swamp cooter, and unsavory element in human form will permeate your aqua structure and it will be amusing to everyone but you.
A couple of weekends ago, I showed up to my sister’s house and saw an unfamiliar male face along with several other drunk faces I had seen (regrettably) before. This young guy was drunk, and had some obvious drug issues judging from the “wear”on some of his front nubs formerly known as teeth. He kept talking about how he was still “fucked up from the night before” and was texting someone maniacally. I kept hearing names I didn’t know, another person consoling him, and I lost interest mainly because I quit caring. During my almost sexual-like tryst with Texas Pete soaked chicken wings that later made me fart blood, I observed this oddball behavior and chalked it up to just normal Waxhaw natives. When you live in the woods, drugs are an acceptable past time since you probably can’t read, and you more than likely already have six kids in the eighth grade… go on, live a little.

I did a few things in the house later on (read: threw out all super expired food from the fridge since my sister is as domesticated as a fucking sasquatch) only to go outside again and find my drunk brother-in-law screaming about the unwanted guest at the top of his lungs. He apparently kicked him out and everyone else once he found out Crackhead McGee disappeared to take a NAP on the couch. He also found out he’d just gotten out of rehab and had a restraining order. Other non-shocking characteristics of my home town but apparently the nap times pushed my brother-in-law over the edge.

~Insert slurred speech~”Did you hear that motherfucker? He’s got a damn restraining order from his wife that his ass kept textin! I’m awful glad someone told me that he’s been in rehab for the past month, for being a meth head! He better not show his crack smokin’ ass again or next time he’s in my pool, his ass won’t be comin’ back up for air. Did you see them damn teeth? That’s a crack head! I used to be married to one, my ass knows!”

He was indeed married to a crackhead, so I trust his judgement. And I don’t even mean my sister, a real crackhead. She’s just a dumb ass.  So what did we learn kids? Above ground pools are the portal to redneck Narnia. The second you prop one up, you will have more entertainment than you care to. Or maybe that’s just where I’m from.

Three Xanex in the wind, plus several Busch Lites make a weekend WAY more entertaining in my book. Also, one of my birthday gifts from my mother was 51 Ativan pills which she kept after my grandfather went to the nursing home. Who does classy? WE DOES CLASSY! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go have myself an ativan sandwich and some sweet tea, brah.

Aight NAH GAL!

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