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Archive for the ‘ Weird ’ Category

The STAGE FIVE CLINGER


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My sweet lil’ baby, Keelan, is going through a hard time right now. She has recently broken up with her boyfriend and, while that is always a difficult time in a girl’s life, it has been exacerbated by a stalker. This 23 year old guy started working at Sonic with Keelan about a month ago and almost immediately attached himself to her side. The other employees went so far as to refer to him as her “Shadow”, and I believe that’s where the nickname, “Clinger” was first applied.

She was dating her long time boyfriend at the time, but this didn’t stop our Clinger. He repeatedly asked her out, swore his undying love and would NOT stop following her.

He followed her to Payless Shoes where she and Kessa were shopping one day. Freaked her out and her sister, too.

He told her he wanted to have children with her!

He went from charming and sweet to obnoxious, freaky, and downright scary in a matter of days. As a matter of fact, the first few days he worked with her.

I am happy to report that her breakup was not caused by this joker. However, when her feelings were still raw and hurt after she and her boyfriend parted ways, Clinger got mad at Keelan for her constant rejection, (she says recoiling), and he told her he was going to go to the ex-boyfriends workplace and tell him that Keelan and he had slept together just so there was no chance things would ever work out with them.

Clearly, this young man is disturbed.

After Keelan had been refusing his advances for about three weeks he started being really rude to her at work. Her boss, the owner, arranged the schedules so that they weren’t working together. However, that was to start next work week.

Saturday, March 5th, Clinger convinced Keelan that he HAD to talk to her about something “super important, and work related”. There had been no agreement with her boss about separating their work schedules yet so she was pretty sure he was going to tell her that he was taking over her friend’s morning shifts and would be spending every morning, ALL morning with her.

This was a tragic consideration of epic proportions. Think “major angst”.

Since Kee refused to go with him in his car, (I mean…REALLY?!), they were to meet at Starbuck’s…

The first thing to piss him off was the fact that Keelan brought a friend with her. (My girl’s no dummy and has survival instincts.)

Then, when the conversation didn’t revolve entirely around him, and his plan to woo Kee fell apart, things went south. He made numerous nasty remarks to Kee and her friend and ended up telling Kee that he would be telling her things that would depress her so badly that she would kill herself. Actually told her she would end up ,”blowing her brains out”.

She was a bit… agog. However, she had the presence of mind to tell him that there really is nothing he could possibly say to her that would cause this effect.

His parting words, as Kee and friend were dashing out to the car? “Tell (ex-boyfriend), I said, ‘Hi!'”.

Sunday, March 6th, Clinger got to work and his shift overlapped Kee’s by two hours. So, she’s thinking, “I can do this… just two hours and I am outta here”.

He was hateful, demeaning, obnoxious, and downright scary every chance he got. Many of the employees witnessed it again.

So Keelan got through and left work later that day. Then, the manager on duty called her and said that Clinger had just gotten up and left work with close to $400.00 dollars of Sonic’s money and hadn’t even bothered to clock out.

The thinking at this point is that maybe he had forgotten to turn it in before he left. I mean it was a possibility, though not very probable.

The manager finally got in touch with Clinger and there was, reportedly, a screaming conversation between them in which Clinger insists that the manager and Keelan conspired against him together to make it look like he had stolen the money.

Keelan wasn’t even THERE. The manager has worked there for five years or so and has always seemed to be an outstanding person.

The owner is pressing charges against Clinger and we don’t know if the cops have found him yet. Or even if the address on his employment application is correct or not.

If Keelan hears from this guy again, phone call, text, or, (heaven forbid), in person, we will get a restraining order.

My doors are locked at all times. And I am not usually a paranoid person. I MEAN, AT ALL!

I know I am continuing the Texan stereotype by saying this, but I’m glad we have guns.

Yes. I said it.

Heh. NOW, can I get some hate mail and consider myself a “real” blogger?

To be continued….

 

 

 

 

 


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The other day here at Le House de Halfasstic I walked into Henrietta’s room to find her going through her rolling cart of tricks, “cleaning it out“, as it were.  She was meticulously tearing up all forms of paper that she was throwing away.  I know this because half of it was all over the floor.  Millions of tiny little pieces of paper.  I have seen her do this before and it is obviously something she makes a habit of doing every. single. time.

So I approach her about it.

“Hey, Henrietta! Whatcha doin’?

“Oh, I’m just cleaning out my papers.  I just have so much stuff in here!”

This is clearly true as she keeps every letter, greeting card, bill and  bits of junk mail that are addressed to her, because she “might need it”.  She informs me of this current undertaking as she is shredding yet another piece of paper into tiny pieces.

I gesture to the litter on the floor and in the trash can and ask why she’s tearing it up.

“Oh, you have to be careful or they’ll read it!”

“Who?”

“You know!” She leans in conspiratorially, “Those trash men!”

“Do you really think the trash men are interested in your Christmas cards?”

I think she is feeling a little silly about it at this point and says, “Well, I guess there’s nothing they can’t see in there…”

And this is the way I got her to agree to stop tearing up all the paper into tiny pieces and dropping half of it on the floor around the trash bin.

One of my few wins that happened with no argument from her.

The nut.



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IF I had a camera that could take good close ups, I would show you people a thing or two that… that, well… you wouldn’t know about other wise!  Things that you are blissfully unaware of right now.  Things that somewhere deep down inside, you will be uncomfortable and squirming just a bit and thinking, OH MY GAWD! WHY IS SHE SHOWING ME THIS? I WON’T BE ABLE TO SLEEP TONIGHT! this is bizarre.  Krissa, clearly has too much time on her hands….  Again.

But I don’t have a camera that takes good close ups so I will have to use my extensive vocabulary to tell you all about it and paint the proverbial picture with words and crap. Er, crapola?

OK, today we have, for your viewing pleasure description, the smushed roach I found on the bathroom floor when I returned home from my trip to Mither’s and Pop’s house.  John admitted to stepping on it in an attempt to keep it from finding it’s way upstairs where we would, ultimately have to run, up the stairs, to slap a daughter and then gag her to stifle her screaming save one or both of the girls when they stumble upon the roach while it is planning it’s attack on her/them.   At this point I should indicate to you that roaches in deep south Texas are different than roaches in any other part of the country and state.  They are huge and they fly.  That’s right, people.  They FLY.  And they are not very good at it.  Which means that even though they are trying like mad to get away from you they usually end up dive bombing you as they fly across the room.  This causes much screaming and yelling from the girls that are, of course, standing outside in the hall watching with saucer-sized eyes.  Me?  I am charging around the room in hot pursuit of the little bastard and it’s gettin’ personal now!  I have my shoe off and am slamming it against the wall or ceiling or floor or occasional piece of laundry that’s left in the floor, saying, “I hope these clothes LEFT ALL OVER THE FLOOR are at least dirty!

Oh, and if you’re saying, “I live in the south and I have roaches like that!”  You don’t.  This is Texas.  They are bigger and carry Texas flags.

Naw.  They don’t intimidate me much.  Until they land on me.  Eww.

Anyway, you can see why it is so important that we hunt down and murder any roach we happen to see.  It does not happen often, but John and I instantly go to the aforementioned scenerio in our minds when we see one on the outside of the fireplace and it runs inside and we can’t get it.  We look at each other and it’s like telepathy.

John: I have to go to work early tomorrow.  You have to get up with them in the middle of the night if they start screaming “ROACH!”.

me: Fine, but exactly when do you plan to take your turn?  What if it goes up there in the evening and you’ve just gotten home from work?  You’re going to be really tired and beat then, and not feel like charging up the stairs to save them.  Me?  I just think they’re stupid and would be all for letting them battle it out for themselves, but your Mom will have all kinds of wild stories to go with all the screaming going on.  She will find a way to use the phone and call the cops, ya know.

OK, background story completed now.  So we have this smushed roach on the floor in my bathroom.  It has obviously been there for at least a couple of days, I’m guessing cause it is covered with these bizarre tiny black bugs that are feasting on it’s… carcass.  They’re not any kind of ant either.  They are about half the size of a sugar ant, though.  And they move remarkably fast considering they are so tiny I can’t even see their legs.

Weird.  I smushed them all and picked up the roach with a piece of tissue and flushed them.  Haven’t seen another one since.  But I sure wish I had something to get a close up of them with so you could tell me what the hell they are I could see them better and instantly know the fancy Latin words to catagorize and label them.  Cause, I totally would.  You know me and my vocabulary.  😉


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