This site is a testament to not only my life but to the insanity of society. Dive into Psycho Carnival and you'll find tragicomic personal stories, wild yet honest rants, a little depravity, videos and a buttload of other goodies.

This site also contains adult like humor and ideas that could make you think. Consider yourself warned!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Moving Madness

I haven't been doing anything blog-related lately because I've been moving my Dad's shit (not literal shit) back and forth from one box to another or one room to a truck to a storage unit for a month and this week has been the worst so far. My back feels like it is just recently on the mend and my mind is just beginning to feel that same way.

The post/poem I wrote before this, was more or less written to let you know I was still kicking. And screaming. And only in the last few days, regaining my sanity a little.

The Story

Unfortunately, when my wife and I got back from our cruise (of which we really should have just stayed on one of the islands) our family, especially my sister and I were plunged into 4 freakin' weeks of MOVING HELL. We, a dozen family members and friends and I had to move my ungrateful Dad's copious amounts of crapola from his house, since he sold his house, to different relative's houses, storage units and other locations.

Dad's constant verbal abuse, accusations that people were stealing from him while helping him move, complete stubbornness of his things to be taken to this storage unit or that 20 yard dumpster made us go fuckin' bonkers.

I understand that he feels that he's somehow letting go of fond memories (or just average memories) of the house since selling it, but goddamn... Don't take it out on us! Don't act as if we don't have lives --that we now have to put on hold.

Mufasa, our 16 year old cat, who died during this moving fiasco will be missed, tremendously I miss her a lot. She would always jump up on the sofa and put her little paws on my leg and she remained playful up until the last week she was alive. It wasn't too much of a shock for me to lose her, however, because I could see she was dying the last few days. I couldn't do anything about it because the vet's office was closed those days and I was moving Dad's shit under a deadline. In fact, while Mufasa was breathing her last few breaths at the vet's office, I was waiting for a fucking retarded dumpster dude to drop off a goddamn dumpster at Dad's house. The dumpster dude was a redneck hick with an I.Q. the size of an ant's dick. He had trouble finding a town that was only two small towns away from his own. Even that is a long story.

I haven't even had the time to show my sister and Dad my cruise pics or give them any souvenirs yet. I spent my birthday moving the last of his shit and putting up with his shit for the last time for, hopefully, a very long time. I need a goddamn break from the emotionally, physically draining events of the past four weeks.

What's that old saying I've seen on bumper stickers before? Oh, oh yeah. It goes something like... WANNA GET EVEN WITH YOUR KIDS?... LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BE A BURDEN TO THEM

So here's the thing: I wrote part of what I'm talking about a few days ago and I debated on whether to put this light hearted story on the blog or not. I like to put deeply personal shit on the blog once in awhile, as you may well know. It helps gets things off my chest and lightens my spirit or mood. Most of the time. On the other hand, it's like living the shit all over again.

If there is a lesson to be learned here it would be this:

Every goddamn parent out there in the world had better start wising up and having a plan ready so that when you die, sell your house or any other huge event and any other obvious responsibility relating to you, it's taken care of. Put it on paper! See the lawyers! Talk to experts!

Do it all now before something unexpectedly horrible happens to you where you can't focus or keep records. Put old crap in storage now and then and above all... Don't be a goddamn hoarder! Think of all that old worthless shit you've got holed up in a ten room, two story house. And Remember This! Your kids aren't fuckin' boulder holding pack mules with signs on their backs saying "Fuck me emotionally up, please!

Don't make their last memories of you into some kind of mentally diseased slop, you selfish fucking breeders of the world!

Thank you. This has been a public service announcement. This has also been somewhat cathartic. Getting better minute by minute.


Gorilla Bananas said...

Four weeks to move your dad's shit? Hell, he must be anally retentive. Give the old fellow a laxative and treat yourself to a back massage.

Kelly said...

Gorilla Bananas- I'd like to give him some knockout pills when I'm around him. Anyway... I've been keeping my distance from him the last five days.

I wish I was back on the boat again, getting one of those hour long professional massages from the Japanese ladies. That was goddamn heaven!

Donda said...

That rant should have made you feel marginally better! I had the same crap with my Mom after my Dad died and she sold her big house and moved into a 2 br apt. and all the crap that she has been saving for 30 years, I am talking half broken ice trays and heart shaped tin foil pans. CRAP! Sorry about your cat :( Hope things get back to normal for you soon.

klahanie said...

Hi Kelly,
Of course, I am very much aware of all this crap you have endured over the last few weeks.
I will try not to repeat myself too much; for I know you realise that our correspondence via emails was a message of true support for you during this most frustrating and emotionally stressful time.
I do know that Kelly has to look after Kelly. Your health, and being able to live in a positive environment, is of the utmost priority.
I believe you will savour even more your great adventures in the Caribbean. I wish for you and your loved ones, a positive focus on a happier and more peaceful future.
Thanks for your support and encouragement, Kelly. I, in turn, extend a hand of friendship.
Peaceful, positive wishes, your way, Gary.

Dark Slander said...

I've been there dude. Moving sucks and the only ways to sucker people into doing is:

1) Promise Liquor

2) Promise Sex

3) Be a blood relation

Nine times out of ten you get fucked being the blood relative.

Don't destroy your back dude. You're my only commenter these days!

One of The Guys said...

Sorry man. This sounds shitty.

I think you're right. No parent really wants to burden their kids. But thinking ahead like that often gets lost in the sea of crazy schedules.

But as a parent, it's duly noted.

Hang in there!

MarytrMom said...

I know it's not REALLY funny but it was a lot humorous. I can only imagine what it will be like when my parents move/die. Hopefully they will just die and we can bulldoze the place! They keep the friggin' Christmas Tree fully decorated on the front porch all year so all they have to do is move it inside.......geesh....of course the Engineer is no better and we only live in a one story house. The garage was never meant to hold a vehicle(so I'm told)
.........National Geographic hoarder since 1952...the dork-o WASN'T EVEN BORN I feel your pain

Kelly said...

Donda- Yes, my rant did make me feel a tad better. About your mom's broken ice trays and tin foil pans... I hear ya, there. Wow! That is kinda tacky. :)

My Dad kept the cardboard rolls from toilet tissue. He would use them, he said, for rolling up maps and putting them in the roll. I think he had a hundred of them or more, scattered everywhere, throughout the house in different locations. A few of them were being used for this purpose.

Thank you, regarding your comment to our cat. She was a sweet kitty. Things are starting to, very slowly, get back to normal.

Kelly said...

klahanie- Yeah, you have been very supportive and have given me wise advice in the matter. I went to the doctor today for my "every 3 month glucose testing" visit for my diabetes. After listening to me about the moving fiasco and seeing the way I was acting, he actually ordered me not to see Dad for awhile until I got myself on track. I told him my diet, work out routine and nerves had all been trashed and fucked up because of him. The doctor said that I was making him really nervous just by me telling him all about it.

Anyway, I'm starting to breath easier. It will take awhile. Thanks for your support and willingness to hear me gripe. It seems I've been needing the kind bloggers on the net for just that purpose and I thank everyone who has helped me through the tough times.

Take care, man.

Kelly said...

Dark Slander- Hey there, man. I agree with your 3 ways to sucker folks into moving shit. With anyone else, the booze and sex would work. But with Dad's horrible attitude and behavior, there would never be enough rum, whiskey or supermodel fucking enticements to compensate for being in the same room with him.

Now that's pretty goddamn bad.

Don't worry. I'll always comment on your site... Even my fingers are broken and blood is coming out of my ears. But, if I ever get the chance to have sex fiesta with a supermodel for a week, I may have to go back on my word.

Kelly said...

One of The Guys- Thanks, man. I'm trying my best to do so. If I can reach only one parent about this kind of debilitating situation then I'll be somewhat content. I can only give ya "somewhat content" because I'm a miserable bastard most of my waking hours. :) Take care.

Kelly said...

MarytrMom- Thanks, lady. I did try to infuse this post with as much humor as I was able to, given the situation. In the case that your parents, somewhat conveniently, pass away (though I don't wish this, of course)... Here's to hoping you can bulldoze that tacky old Christmas tree and the house at the same time.

I too feel your pain on those National Geographics mags. My Dad had thousands of them, himself. Until the bitter end, he was still picking through them, deciding which ones to keep or put in a different box or take to his new place. This was just another small way of driving us insane.

Your story on the Engineer is a little funny, too... but I know what you mean. Take care.

The Wolf said...

It's becuase of shit like that that I never talk to my family. There a bunch of ungratful fuck's who use you up but when you need help they let you drown. You're father is lucky that you did that for him. If it was my father I'd let the fucker rot.

Sorry I'm a little bitter today

bazza said...

Hi Kelly. The last couple of times I visited this site I got a warning from Norton saying 'Site is unsafe'.
Well, I guess we all already knew that!
(Don't worry, I'm sure it's an error. I think)

Kelly said...

The Wolf- I did walk out on my Dad a couple of times when he went into one of his crazed rants. One of those times included when he accused my wife of wanting to take his cookbooks without asking. I told him, walked out and when I realized I couldn't leave my sister by herself to handle him and get all the stuff moved out, I went back an hour later, with a friend of mine- sans wife. No matter how crazy he has driven me in the past, I always go back to help him out.

Some would say I shouldn't go back when he's like this but I feel he is my responsibility, but, more than that, he is my Dad. For better or worse. Right now, I'm staying the fuck away from him. The doctor ordered me, for my own good, to do that, too.

Kelly said...

bazza- Well, I don't know what to tell you for sure, friend, but the site is perfectly safe. I checked it out to be sure if I had put anything on here with a virus (with Norton's AntiVirus)or something and nothing came up suggesting that.

There may be a problem on your end. My relative's computer said that about a couple sites one time and I found out her firewall or antivirus program was set on so high an alert status that a lot of sites came up for her that way. I found out she accidentally clicked on some extreme settings by accident.

Or it could be something else on your end of things. Take care.

Kelly said...

bazza- Also: I haven't had any other people reporting to me what you saw on your screen for this site.

Cameron Robertson said...

I agree man, moving out can be a definite killer! From the house to the truck to the storage unit and to the new place, I wish the process could be shorter! However, if you really need an extra pair of helping hands, then you could consider hiring movers. Some even offer packing services so you can just sit and watch while their work their muscles off.

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