Progress

Yesterday, I had the appointment to show my Dad's house.  After having to call her 20 minutes after we were supposed to meet, she showed up in her big fat BMW with her come-fuck-me boots on and designer this and that... looking for a McMansion... or at least a spot to stick her McMansion on.  That's the problem with the house... the yard is great but we're asking more than an empty lot would be, mainly because we're selling a house, not an empty lot.  And the house, by today's gimme-gimme standards, was never meant to house the glutton-like mentality of present-day yuppies with all their clothes and shit.  Why... when we were young, we had one outfit and one toy... that was it... and we all shared rooms and worked the farm... and after a long day's work, we got a good night's sleep and knew we had done all we could... we were a family and it didn't matter what we had or didn't, but we were together at the end of the day.... night MaryEllen... night John-boy... (oh, wait... that wasn't us....).