Sunday PM

I'm still sick with whatever this bug is that's going around.  I can hardly breathe, my chest hurts, and I have almost no energy.  I believe the stress of all the trouble caused by Penny Bailey is part of the reason I can't seem to get well.  I'm going to have her charged with intense mental cruelty and anguish to me when the lazy, good-for-nothing cops ever catch her worthless hide.
That is, if I don't get a shot at her first.
It's been a revelation to me just how cheaply a few 'friends in low places' have offered to bump her off for me.  I guess she's hated all over.
Elaine told me today that Rhonda finally heard from Randy, and he's told her he's never coming back home.  Well, he's got seven years of parole he's violated, so he'll be somewhere for a long time if the sheriff ever catches him.
I don't know how two such worthless low-life's can breathe good air.  He just walked away from three adorable boys and a good wife.  Penny had not raised any of her three children, either.
But I f**ked up her life.  Yeah, RIGHT!
She sure has a rich fantacy life.
Elaine told me that Kerry has tried to come on to Rhanda.  He'd sure be moving up in the world, that's for sure.
I can't believe the creepiness of these people.
Steve went back to work tonight, so I'll be pulling it alone for a few days.  He's not going to be gone long this time.  He says he wants the overtime he can get on the job, that he misses on his paycheck when he's home.
My gout in my right middle toe is very painful tonight.  It's been troubling me for quite a while.
I've never know so many people with flu, phenomia, gout, and like diseases.  I wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that the nigger in the white house is poisoning the general population with something.  He's just that low.
I haven't got any appetite, and I usually eat like a horse.
John McInerny, a local boy, called me tonight to see if I'd loan him enough money to get to the hospital, as he's sick with the same thing.  He offered to sell me a lawnmower for the money.  I feel for him, if he's got what I've had.
I finally got all the tile and trim finished in the new upstairs bathroom (last night), and it's really pretty.  Steve wouldn't mount the light fixtures for me, though.  He said something about feeling a draft coming out of the light fixture.  It's from the badly-detoriated overhang upstairs, which will be fixed someday.  He didn't believe me when I told him, and even pointed out to him the damage.
I think he was dropped on his head when he was little.  He wants to tear off the entire roof to see where the air is coming from.  I have a better idea.  I'll cut off his air, and see if that doesn't fix the draft.
I'm so bright, when I was little, my momma called me 'Son'.