Blondie

Oh phans of Phinny!

I am here to apologize profusely for my complete LACK of postings while Phinny remains puterless.

The lad asks me for ONE favor and what do I do? Well, nothing, obviously.

At least not in a timely manner.

It's just that I've been so bloody busy. And I can never concentrate when I'm NOT busy. Hell, my own blog is, as of late, a testament to the fact that I Can't Write Shite. It's because I've got the attention span of a 5 year-old on pop rocks.

So. I've got to actually WRITE something to post here, but know that I'm on the job (I do so sincerely hope this isn't a euphemism for something else in another country, because then that looks REALLY bad)!

Anyhoo. Hows about a quick tidbit while I get my brain into the proper frame of mind? Right!
The biggest weapon the H likes to wield is that of communication--that is the squashing of ANY communication/contact with the outside world. I believe Phinny has mentioned this previously (with regards to having people over). Indeed, during my own stay down there I learned this first hand.

'Oh, Typh? Just WHY do you have to call your mother/best friend/random operator who is just sane and will tell me it's not REALLY that bad everyday?'

And there was but ONE reason for my need to call home:

Because I would have offed myself otherwise!

That phone was my only means of keeping the frayed edges of my sanity from disappearing altogether. And she complained no end.

(It was not as if her phone were ringing off the hook. And they had call waiting. And it was unlimited long distance. Yet she always complained that somehow it was inconveniencing her)

Now she's trying to pull the same shit with my mother. First it was 'WHY must you talk to Typh every day?'

Then it was, 'You know I've got to pay for those calls!'

(My mother had been under the impression that the long-distance was still unlimited--and I think it was, actually. Especially since Ma made mention of perhaps paying her fair share upon viewing of a bill. Which, naturally, was never procured, probably because it was bullshit)

So. To cut out all the arguing and to remove all the possiblity of arguing, Ma did the smart thing. She bought a phone card. You know those clever little cards? Dial an 800 number, make your call and it deducts the minutes from your talk time?

Brilliant! It was the perfect solution!--or so she thought.

H catches her on the phone:

'You know those calls cost me money!'

Ma wielded her phone card and shouted 'Aha! I have beaten you! For I have this phone card, I dial an 800 number, and the call costs YOU nothing!'

But H banned her from using it anyway BECAUSE she knows things.

'Those things don't work and it is going to show up on my bill anyway because I've seen it happen before! Those cards are NOT free!'

Ok. Fine. I will ring down there (and, a course, Ma will use the calling card when no one is looking).

The other night, nine-ish, I call.

'Hi Ma!'

'Hi Typh!'

*general chit-chat ensues*

'Typh? She just told me to tell you not to call so late'

'What? It's nine-ish for gods sake! Since when is nine-ish too late? What's she a fucking geriatric now?'

'You know the deal-she just doesn't want me on the phone'

'Is she still awake?'

'Yes'

'Kids awake?'

'Yes'

'Then what's the problem? Jesus she's SUCH an asshole'

'God, yes'