Assassination Vacation

The AssVac, in all her glory... That's my Guardian Angel shining over her shoulder!

Today I got a letter from my high school – my high school! – telling me that I haven’t paid back a dime of the $1500 I borrowed from them towards tuition for my senior year. Now first of all, it was only like $600 that I borrowed, second of all that was twenty-two years ago (I'm much younger than my years, believe me) and third of all I know I paid it back. But I paid it back in like 1993! I don’t have a copy of the taxes I filed two weeks ago – do you think I have check registers going back fifteen years? (Okay fourteen years. I exaggerate a little, can you blame me?)

Good lord, what am I – Pig Pen? I feel just like freaking Pig Pen, except instead of a cloud of dust surrounding me it’s a big black cloud of doom. Sorry, let me rephrase that: big black cloud of DOOM.

It's got to have something to do with this house.

So here’s the plan:

We’re going to turn the house into a bed & breakfast and it’s going to be called Assassination Vacation (with apologies to Sarah Vowell). Except it will be more like a bed and help-yourself, because Johnny will be outside trimming topiaries and I’ll be too busy typing allworkandnoplaymakesjackadullboy over and over and over again to pay anybody any mind.

If you’ve got someone you hate and wouldn’t mind if bad things happened to them, just give them a weekend at the AssVac! If you really hate 'em, give 'em a week. Two weeks and they'll sign anything you put in front of them if you loosen up the straitjacket enough. Any longer and, well, no telling what might happen. Except that noooo one could be found guilty…

In case you were wondering, the “plumber” never called or sent an estimate. Oh, and also I blew out another sneaker on my way to work today. I drove to work, somehow blew out my left sneaker, and I drive an automatic! Oh great, now that's gonna explode.

Johnny says I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.