sneaky petes
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Off early today. So here I am in the man cave playing with steel. Got my big beemer bagger all apart to lube the tranny input splines. Knowing it would be apart, I ordered a farkle called a "booster plug" couple weeks back from Denmark. I was hoping that plug would come today. Sure enough, the RedHead who has the privilege of doing my laundry comes in from the mailbox with a small box. Yay says I, and reach for my pocket knife. No so fast! "Who do you know in Visalia?" she asks. My heart sinks. "That isn't from Denmark?" Nope. Turns out the box contains a single word "BOOM" and a bunch of smelly little brown things.
I have been snookered! Tricked! Hoodwinkled! Some sneaky pete catfish lurking in the onion smelling mud of Visalia hooked me into what he promised was supposed to be an anonymous bombing mission, at the end of which he tricked me into revealing my address, the very instant he got which, he musta hustled on over to the post office and sent me this package. Here I was looking forward to wrenching in my sweaty garage and instead I am gonna be sittin round on my ash smoking a little diesel, a man o war, or I don't know what all. Jeez. Some days you just can't win. Fooled me good. Prolly just fishin for addies all along. I bet he's just sittin home stroking his catfish whiskers and feelin proud of himself.
Payback is a bidge. When you least expect it...
“It has been a source of great pain to me to have met with so many among [my] opponents who had not the liberality to distinguish between political and social opposition; who transferred at once to the person, the hatred they bore to his political opinions.” —Thomas Jefferson (1808)
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