Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts

Thursday, November 9, 2023

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #779: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND THERE IT IS

 It didn't take the universe very long to self-correct itself. Now I'm back to my usual doom and gloom.


For the last month or so we haven't had heat in the house. It hasn't been too bad. Yes, it's cold, but it's not too bad. Yet. Even when it snowed on Halloween it was OK. I have a space heater in my bedroom, so when I'm there I'm nice and cozy, but when I'm in the bathroom or the kitchen, it's not that great. I got in the habit of skipping breakfast most days to avoid being in the kitchen for too long.


But winter is coming, and holy shit, I guess no one can really say that anymore without thinking of Game of Thrones. It's like when Spike said, "Who you gonna call?" on Buffy.




Anyway, cold weather is on its way, and there's no way we can get through the season without heat, so I called a guy today, and he confirmed for me what I've long suspected: the furnace is fucked. FUCKED. Somehow it got full of water, and a circuit board is fried, and of course a new one is going to cost a lot of fucking goddam money.


Thankfully there's a monthly payment plan, but at the same time I really don't want to deal with this. Chiefly among my reasons is the fact that I have no idea how long we're still going to be here. I could be paying for this fuckin' thing for no good reason at all if the bank decides to kick us out, say, in the spring. I'm getting bent over for this?


Goddammit. My brother mentioned there might be a warranty on the furnace. He says it's fairly new, but I don't remember us getting a new furnace a few years ago. I hope he's right. I don't really want to do this, but if I must, and I suspect I must, then I will.


So yes, doom and gloom. And I'm going to need some help. If you've ever been curious about my books, now's the time to buy. Check out my website for all the relevant links. And what the hell, I said I was going to stop editing stuff for other people, but do you need an editor? I'm flexible on prices. Let me know, and we can talk. Jesus God, maybe I should start an OnlyFans. Put on some hot pants and pick a corner on the Sleaze Strip . . .


If you buy Strip, Trail of Blood, Pavlov;s Bitches, 6669: Demon Porn, John Holmes Vampire Slayer, Dong of Frankenstein and Other Pornos You Can't Jerk It To, It Changes a Man and the Audible version of Poor Bastards and Rich Fucks, I will get paid the quickest. Next tier of swiftness is Tales of Questionable Taste, Poor Bastards and Rich Fucks, And Jesus Came Back and Blood. Coming in last are Tales of Unspeakable Taste and The Life and Times of Hieronymus Aloysis Ziege. If, you know, you're interested in knowing how fast you'd be able to help me.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #149: GRAMPS

I don't know what I can say. I'm sad and lonely and fucking scared. If you've followed me for a while, you know my grandfather, who had a major hand in raising me, has had difficulties of late. He's back in the VA because of his heart. The front valve, he says, isn't opening regularly. They told him that they can fix it with surgery, but he doesn't want to do that.


Oh fucking fuck. He's ready to die. I've known this for a while, but it hasn't been real until now.


I can barely type this through a veil of tears. He means so much to me, and I know he's ready to go. He has a pamphlet from the VA about going into hospice. INTO HOSPICE. When he told me that, I felt my eyes burning. I didn't want to cry in front of him because I wanted him to know I was strong enough for this.


But I saw something tonight that I've never seen before. My grandfather, my hero for as long as I've been alive, cried tonight. He bawled his eyes out. He begged me to take care of my grandmother. I've never seen him like this before, and I felt weak to my very core. It scared me more than I've ever been scared in my adult life.


God, I can't stop crying. Oh please. I'm sorry. Help me. Please. I'm losing my mind. I'm so scared.


They took him downstairs for PT today. He did pretty well until he fell when he was using the walker they gave him. I saw the bruises and the bandages. He told me his shoulder hurt so much, but he was afraid to ask for painkillers to help.


All of my life, he told me that he hated having a beard. He needed to be clean-shaven at all times. The only day of the week he didn't shave was Sunday, just because he wanted to relax. Tonight . . . tonight he has a beard. No one at the VA wants to shave him. I have never seen him with hair on his chin before, and it's scaring me a lot. He's got headaches that come and go, but when they're coming, he doesn't even look like my grandfather anymore. The little hair he has is wild. He has a beard. His face isn't like anyone I know. He holds his head in pain, and I don't know what I can say. I beg him to tell the staff, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to because I think he's ready for the end.


I'm not ready for that. I can't live without my grandfather. He's made so much of an impact on me that I don't know what I can do. I want him to come home. I want him to be OK. I want him to . . . I want him to BE.


I'm sorry for all the times I was impatient with him because he couldn't hear me. I'm sorry for all the times I was angry because he soiled himself and the floor. Please don't take him from me. I love him too much. I can't see myself living without him.


God, if you're really there, help me. Don't take my grandfather away. Please. I beg of you.