The Fireworks Are Hailing Over Little Eden TonightThe year is half over? Or there is still another half of a year to go through. Anyway, it wouldn't be the Fourth of July here at the Casita de Zapatas if we didn't crank up the old hi-fi and blast Springsteen's "Sandy" through the entire battery of speakers. Today is the last day of my vacation. I was able to smooth the old brain wrinkles out to a marble for a while, but tomorrow I go back to the real world, which includes a major issue with the 'rent's estate. Biggus Dickus (he has a wife, you know) and I are co-executors of said estate, and can do nothing independent of each other regarding same. This works out in real life to Biggus Dickus (he has a wife, you know) turfing everything to me to figure out. The current issue came to light while I was on vacation. When I got home, there was a message on the answering machine from someone who said that they had discussed this with Biggus Dickus (he has a wife, you know) and that he told them that they had to speak to me about the issue. I now have less than 30 days to find a solution to this mess and Biggus Dickus (he has a wife, you know) still hasn't had the courtesy to give me a heads up. But then, if he understood the situation, he wouldn't have turfed it to me. And I have an underlying and uneasy suspicion that it was his incompetence that brought this newest crisis to bear. Have I ever mentioned that he's the older child? By six years and ten months, which has always been shorthanded in the family to seven years. His wife, Incontinentia Buttocks, very pertly corrected me about this matter the last time anyone mentioned it. "SIX YEARS older, really. He was born in '48 and you in '54." Whatever. He's still the big brother (no holding company) but you'd never know it by the way things are around here. Fuck it. I'm off to listen to Bruce, and tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is another day, and I'll think about everything then.
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