The Long and Short of It

God.

This is where we are staying. It says that the rooms are "clean and affordable". Plus you get a warm refrigerator, Harley guys racing through the parking lot and scent of ashtray for aroma therapy. This is supposed to be better than Miss Manager dealing with a house. It is proof that she is early Alzheimer's, I swear.

Right now she is cleaning a Weber grill so that we can have steak on a skewer for supper. There is a short, strange biped out there with her asking if she would like some company "later". I know what that means. He wants some meat.

You should see our car. It looks like the truck that the Beverly Hillbillies drove to Californy. We have the freeloading Clarence with us, his cat carrier, a cooler, my dish and water bowl, of course, clothes and pillows, our new laptop computer, shovels for the garden and my special area rug for receiving fan club members and publishing house editors. Also a suitcase. And shopping bags from a place called T.J. Maxx. (I do not think that you-know-who needs any new clothes, but who ever asks me anything around here?)

She paid for us to stay here for one week. Why nor just move in permanently? We could meet every humanoid weirdo that way, not just one weekend's worth. The prime example referred to above said, "What kind of a dog is that?" See what I mean? Jethro Clampet all the way.

What kind of a dog is that? I will tell him. He probably has flames tattooed to his ankles like he is on fire or something. I will herd him into the lake to put out the flames. Ha ha. I bet you that he does not even know what a blog is, let alone a blogging dog. Why are we here? Anyone?

People come to Ray's in the summer because it is by the lake, and they think that they will get to wade and splash, but they do not tell you where it says that the rooms are "clean and affordable" that the beach is all eroded and the only way you can get to the lake is if you jump off a cliff. That is false and misleading.

Maybe I can open up a suntan lotion stand.