Oatmeal Raisin in the Sun

I have moved to sleeping on the sofa bed because the people from the methadone clinic, which is next door, use my parking lot and they are just too loud in the morning. My bedroom faces the parking lot and I get to hear it all. This is not a problem during the school year because they start showing up at five fucking o�clock in the morning to form a line for a place that opens at seven. It is the summer and I like to go to bed at five in the morning not wake up then.

One of them mused the other day that I must have a real problem because my car is there every morning, no matter what the weather is. This idiot must also miss that it is covered in snow in the winter, and never moves.

My favorite is when one of the addicts has a new speaker system in their car and needs to wake everyone up by blasting bad music for the world to hear. Rick James is dead and we all miss him but even he would not want to be mourned that way, Super Freak. I tend to set my car alarm off for that one because unlike my milkshake, the car alarm brings the boys (in blue) to the yard and usually stops the party. I also pop my trunk if I catch them using it as a picnic table. The funny thing about that is they always slam it shut for me.

Those people are trying to get their lives back together, I should not be such a bastard but I have not gotten cable hooked up yet so I need something to entertain me.

I saw a bumper sticker yesterday that said, �Proud father of seven.� �Snip, snip� was going through my head. Can you imagine seven? I like teaching kids but having them in my home is asking too much.

Elizabeth and I agreed that we are too young to be having reproduction sex. Your twenties are all about recreational sex. Neither of us are having sex but since we are aware, and that man is not, where babies come from, we are also sure we do not want anyone underfoot until we are over thirty.

I think you should stop when you filled up the mini-van and if you need to take two cars because the family cannot fit in the Suburban, you have gone too far. Besides, the world is full of children who do not have families, why not bring one of them home? Being a foster family was great because we got to have a new brother or sister until the novelty wore off then they went away.

Also, nothing dampers your sex drive like a new baby in the house. My parents were sadistic about the baby foster kids � my sister or I had to get up with the babies in the night. No silly eggs or bags of flour for us, no we got a real colicky baby. Sex cannot be as fun as a screaming baby is not. The risk is far to great.

I was at Starbucks yesterday as well (yes, in this weather) and I have found another area where I could be John Forbes Kerry, Flip Flopper in Chief. I like oatmeal raisin cookies but if you tried to give me a raisin or oatmeal I would fling it back at you like I were some monkey at the zoo.

I will admit it. I have been caught dancing with my iPod in public three times this month. When I was visiting my parents I not only danced with it at the post office, I also sang along. My singing is nothing to write home about but my dancing is so ridiculous that it should be federally regulated.