Okay, this is what I meant to write about yesterday at this time but I somehow ended up talking about Jack's name and Dave's unfortunate Albanianism. Once again, I have ten minutes before I need to go pick Jack up at the bus stop. I catch ALL KINDS OF SHIT for picking up a ten-year old boy with a relatively short (albeit very steep uphill) walk home. Have I explained before that I live in fucking ANIMAL PLANET? We have elk. Big, angry elk that like to tussle with one another. That guy? Up there? My front yard. Oh and then there are the mountain lions that like to eat the eight million deer that mill about at will. I don't even NOTICE the deer anymore unless like "Hammock Head" (see archives, new guys), they have a freakin' hammock on their respective heads. More about the deer in a sec. We also have bobcats. I don't think they're all that dangerous but I have heard bad things about burlap sacks full of 'em. Bears? Yep. We've got bears. And I swear I've seen a moose. And no, I was not into the recipe at the time. Did I mention rattlesnakes? Oh, we've got those guys too. No reason to even mention the coyotes 'cause they're nocturnal. Their job is to drive me freakin' nuts at night. They take their work seriously. Anyway, given the wildlife lurking about, I thought it prudent to either meet Jack at the bus stop and walk home with him or just pick him up. And as I said, I got a LOT of crap because of it. "He's ten years old, MOM.....geez". Okay fine. I let him walk home for a few days. Until a GOLFER WAS GORED BY A DEER RIGHT NEXT TO THE BUS STOP. That was the end of that. I'm told it was a fluke. A fluke that could have have resulted in Jack tangled up in some buck's rack at BEST. I don't want to have to nickname a deer, "Jack Head". I am going to the bus stop now, than you very much. Cover me. It's a jungle out there.