Boski's Blogopoluza!

it was laborious.

That is how I will put how the weekend went. Friday night was alright as we had a couple of beers and wandered the streets of Orange. The Better Half and I survived a weekend up north. Let me say, we both enjoyed see Mrs. Boski's dad, Mrs. Boski's Aunt and her husband, seeing the some sights and seeing the Monet exhibit. Yes I said Monet, what of it. I also got a book on The art and architecture of Venice you want to make something of that? Most of you thought the only culture I have is what is growing in my gym bag.

What made my weekend tough? It was one thing and that was Mr. Better Half's wife. My god, she is a pain in the ass of biblical proportions. She drives me nuts and for my wife it is about 1000x's worse. I am surprised my wife did not go all Oz on her and just shiver. No court would have held her. This woman is beyond self-centered. I think she may even make Paris Hilton feel a little uncomfortable. It was just non stop blathering by her, about her, and for her. All freaking weekend she kept mentioning the same stupid things over and over . At one point after hearing about how she was robbed of her new Coach bag, which she only had $20 bucks, for the 8th time. I wanted to yell, "again with this, what is this on a test or something?". Sadly I did not. Also her sniping at Mr. Better Half about stupid shit. She has been married to the Better Half's Dad for 12 years now and she is still an asshole and she is getting worse. I will not get into the blow by blow of the whole weekend, but she was such an insufferable ass. This weekend may have been the only time I dreaded talking about baseball. She kept going on and on about the Marlins (long story) and other things and I just wanted to all stop. This woman was rude, inconsiderate, boorish and I will say morbidly retarded.

I have a bizarre question the audience. One of the days we went to visit more of Mrs. Boski's family. In their loving home in a town north of SF (I wish to protect the innocent). While we are talking she first announces that she had to miss her sewing class today,(Note: I have no problem with knitting, My mom does it, my wife and a reader of this blog) but then to say even if jokingly, (which I doubt she was) that she had to shed a tear to miss that to be here. WTF! If you wanted to stay home then stay the hell home beeeaatchhh! Then we sit down and are talking and she just whips out her knitting. Without even asking, sure it did not distract from the conversation, but still. The only thing that disrupted the conversation was crap spilling out of her pie hole. Then lastly before we eat, called her knitting coach to discuss something. Hello is our visit to these nice people interrupting something. On top of this, we were late because we had to stop at a factory outlet, to stop into a Coach store. The Coach store had moved. Thankfully for her I would have like re-enact the robbery. But she still had to go into Brooks brother and get a retarded madras jacket with bigger shoulder pads than the ones I wore for football. Hey Mrs. Bitchworth, the Carrington's called they want the shoulder pads back!

Then yesterday we went to go see the Monet exhibit in San Fran. And all she did was shit on everyone one parade. Bitching at us about getting out too late, which we were ready to go long before her lazy ass. Whinnying about getting back since she had a tutoring session moved up. Moaning about getting downtown so she could get back. Complaining about lunch and where we were going. Whinnying about how she was not told anything. The whole, "no body asked me" BS. Fuck you (please excuse the following folks) cunty cuntlestein, you knew what was on the agenda. If you had a problem then you could of said something. Oh, finally you are quiet. Then when it was time to part company on Sunday, when we got her to her location we tried to say goodbye and thanks. What does she do? She just gives a piss poor good bye, and stomps off. So to that I say fuck you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

The only time, other than visiting the BH's Aunt and her husband, that was really pleasant was when she was not around. The three of us would actually sit around in the evening and talk. We had some nice conversations about the state of the world and I did not make an ass out of myself. This woman is just a horrible person who can go suck it. I am sorry Mrs. Boski's dad, but I hate your wife. I will not say it to you or her, even though part of me should have. Sadly from this point, on we are not staying in that house, if that fucking Harpy is there. You can bank on that. We will suck it up and visit if we are in the area. But we will not be confined in the same location as her for more than a couple of hours. You are welcomed to visit us, but she is not staying in our home. If she tries I am getting a bebe gun and rock salt and going Red Dawn on the situation. WOLVERINES!!!!!!!!!

I know it looks like I am really mad, but up it a 1000% and you are my wife's level. It sucks because we like him and love visiting with him. So it makes this all a bit sad. That our future contact is going to be limited because of her.

It was so bad that I hardly noticed the Sox dropping two of three to the Royals and losing in 10 to the Red Sox. Boy oh boy a can hear a freefall a coming. Thank god football is back.

Man, sucks about the Crock Hunter. I loved the guy. I though his dimise would have been something like getting shot at a Thai brothel, or by a falling satellite. If this happened to him, then Steve O, you are so living on borrowed time sir. I know it seemed like he was just more of a caricature than a person, but the guy was someone who really cared about nature and the environment. I wish there were more like him that cared and go to lengths he did. He was a man who loved life and a man who lived it beyond the its limits. You thought all the times he should have been killed and nothing happened that he would have just lived forever. You will be missed Crock Hunter.

Thanks everyone for sitting through this one, and also sorry for the language and the run on sentences.