You wake up at night, feeling your under-britches are wet, you reach in behind and pee-ewe. That’s when you realize it ain’t yogurt.

Cooters Journal 2It’s 05:38 hours on a Saturday morning, kids do you know where your parents are? There used to be this PSA, that ran on KSL-5 in Salt Lake City Utah, that went: ” Parents, do you know where your Children are?” So naturally, I reversed it. Made sense to me, back then ya’ll hardly knew where your parents were. If they wasn’t workin, or mating, you had no idea. Any mile it is a peaceful easy feeling Saturday morning, here in Hazzard. Was on the verge, of being homeless, but a heap amount of praying, and his power being delivered through our Bishop, I’m okay now. At least rent wise. Had PoohBear done what she said she was gunna do, with sending money , that she said got gummied up, through Walmart, in St. Pete Florida. Some of that I believe, what with that hurricane and all, but not being able to recover the money , and blaming it on some throw away woman her brother used to poke, is not something I can grip. Reason? Walmart and the outfit that does that service, keep very close watch on that kind of thing, especially money. All of that data is in a computer, if the funds are not delivered to the recipient, that being me here in Idaho, then it gets refunded. However, she says somebody there at that Walmart gave it to her brothers old squeeze. Nah, if that happened, Walmart, would be open to one mellofahess, law suit. My guess, is that PoohBear kept the money after it was refunded and spent it getting out of harms way, of the Dorien, Hurricane. Why PoohBear can’t tell the truth is beyond me. Sure I’d be disappointed if she kept money that was the Knyte’ to get the radio gig back up, and in a pro facility. What hurts the worst, is the lieing. So overnight, I had to swallow my pride, and help stock shelves at Smith’s here. Thanks to April and Ashley, for arranging that for me. What gets me about the lieing about the funds she is supposed to send each month as her dues money, for SAMCRO-MC, is when it doesn’t come or she with holds that money, it becomes my ass to pay her, dues. Thus why I was damn near homeless. Of course if she’d just tell  the truth about the funds, before hand, at least I could plan, and divert resources from other places of the Knyte’. But when we’re all expecting things and they don’t show. Then its my butt, that gets put through the ringer. 

Okay so last Tuesday, the new season, of the Mayan’s premiered on FX. It wasn’t half bad, but too few bikes made a poor showing. Maybe more of that next week. What I did catch was a guns for cash, being exchanged by two SAMCRO members and lefty, saying something on the basis of Jax, wouldn’t want them running guns. This made me think, hmmm more than likely Son’s or at least the series we’re involved in called the First-9. Which details the formation of SAMCRO. 

Then yesterday morning, some neighbor of PoohBear sent a few texts on PoohBear’s phone, saying that PoohBear had , had a coronary event. I only half believe that. I want to know what hospital, and names of the quak Doctors, taking care of her. When I went into the hospital, by ambulance no less, all of it can and is documented. There I was in a place, where I had some of the hottest looking nurses, taking care of me, even to the point, I could sit there in that adjustable bed, in my BVD’s, with Herman hanging out, and nobody said cover up. I truly got treated like the MC royalty that I am. So then, I went back to sleep, just headed off to another plane of mind, and what happens? Some idiot thinks my room is his room. Walked right into my tiny domicile. I don’t think he realized how damn close he came to having his ass blasted. That 45 right by my side is always loaded, and ready. I leave the door unlocked in case I ever was incapacitated, for some reason. That way medical techs can get in. The only other people allowed in my domicile, with open door privalges, is TJ, and or any member of either, the Knytes, or the WolfPack. Any flyte, this afternoon , going over to Twiny Flatts to start fetching the radio gear, and making arrangements with Charlie to retreive LiL Dixie. So I’m horizontal. As I do, there’s a background tune for some travel company, that goes, “my feet , go boom, boom , boom. Now I got that jingle in my head. Still harboring the flies. I like these little fellers. They are entertaining .

Until L8R Ya’ll this is your friend Crazy Cooter Saying , good numbers to ya’ll and I’m down and gone.

One thought on “You wake up at night, feeling your under-britches are wet, you reach in behind and pee-ewe. That’s when you realize it ain’t yogurt.

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