John Farmer is 49. How the hell did he survive THIS long? The World Wonders…

When I explain the title of this piece will make sense. You will all remember that I recently had hip replacement surgery. Well, I was released from the Hospital on Friday July,16. That Monday, the 19th, after returning from my doctor’s office, UziQ and I heard a knock on the door.

It was my land lady.

We have been living in this lady’s basement apartment for what will be three years on Aug. 20. She has been an awesome landlady and we have had an excellent relationship the whole time. She comes in, sits down and proceeds to tell us that the Police had just been by to inform her that she has 30 days to get us out of her house. Apparently this neighborhood is zoned as “single-family dwelling units”, and our arrangement is illegal. Uzi flips out and I do too (just on the inside). It seems that someone had been writing letters to City Hall informing them of the situation. Note here that in the nearly three years we have been here, there have been no incidents what-so-ever drawing attention (except one time where we called 911 because I was having some scary symptoms around March) to Uzi and I being down here. In the passing days it seems that the “Biker types” who moved in next door last year had attracted some attention to some questionable activities going on over there. It was they who fired off the e-mails, I guess, hoping to deflect attention from the authorities or whatever.

So there we sat with 30 days to vacate the premises and zero $ in the bank and almost $60,000 in medical bills. Uzi and I had gone bankrupt 3 years ago therefore our credit is uckfayed (pig-latin). In fact we were uckfayed royally.

With the help of family, we were able to secure a one bedroom apartment in a very nice complex. We take possession this morning at approx, 10:30 a.m. Central.

Last week was even hairier. We had to put our Collie of 15 years, Khan down. We have had him since he was one month old. He was a Christmas gift from my Brother-In-Law who literally found him in a shoe box on the shoulder of an Interstate. Since Uzi and I are childless, he was our surrogate kid. We’re still getting over that.

Oh yeah the starter went out on my truck last week too. Talk about shitty timing. But things are working out, I am getting healthier and I have incredible friends, family and a wife that is incomparable in my opinion.

So you can see why I titled this post as I did. It reads as a bad country song.

Well at least my grandmother didn’t get paroled. That would have been too much.

Does this mean that when I wipe my butt I am assaulting my sphincter with a deadly weapon?