So, I mentioned I’m helping my parents at their beach side motel!!!
When I see old folks, I expect a little respectability, a little wisdom to have blossomed with years of experience in living.
Okay, I am on the Redneck Riviera. I know.
Day One: I wondered if Room 226 was going to be a problem when the elderly woman was staggering around drunk REEKING of booze at 10 o’clock in the morning.
Think Pig Pen, but the funk is a cloud of liquor.
Day Two: She refused to exchange her dirty towels for clean towels because her husband was sleeping on the balcony.
Double red flags!!!
Day Three: I heard her lamenting that she could not remember the place in town where she kennelled her dog!
Are you fucking kidding me!!???!! Who kennels their dog and forgets?? Who does that shit? Poor Puppy!
Check Out: Those senior citizen bitches tore the place down.
It wasn’t quite the image you see above.
But I did have to use duct tape to get the old mother fucker’s back hair off the sofa! And guess how many Vodka bottles it takes to fill a tall kitchen garbage bag.