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In every man's life, there are times when he just has to say, "what the fuck!" This is my story of just such a time in my life. One day, many lifetimes ago, yet not too far back, I was at work doing my usual pre-wire of an alarm system. The day was going slow, and it was very hot. It was the middle of August, and, as my grandfather used to say, the lizards were walking on stilts so they wouldn't burn their bellies on the ground. Needless to say, there wasn't much of a breeze around either. I was hanging out of an attic, the sweat dripping off my bare chest, with a roll of wire in one arm, and a drill in the other. When 5:00 finally came around, I was all too happy to crawl out of that oven of an attic, and head to the local quick stop and grab a cold beer and a nice relaxing smoke. Just as I was getting on the road, heading off to that beer, wouldn't you know it ... a traffic jam? I was cussing and bitching, at everything, and everyone. Then I saw a little liquor store on a side street. I turned off and headed for the parking lot.

It had been quite some time since I had drank anything in the way of hard liquor, but somehow the day seemed to have made it just the right thing. I looked around, and decided on a nice half gallon bottle of wild turkey. I sped home, and was looking forward to crashing in my favorite chair, watching some TV and just basically, forgetting the day. I pulled into my street, and that's when it all started. My wife and my cousin were out in the front yard playing grab-ass. On a normal day, I would have been pissed, but I don't know if I was too tired, or just had enough ... I just pulled over to the curb a few houses down, ...

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