Everybody relax, I'm here.

It's Fall time here in the Mid-West (or as I like to call it where the angels live) (well, one angel anyway) and this means we can turn off our Air Conditioning unit and open up the windows to let the fresh air un-mustify our houses before we have to close them again otherwise we'll get freezer burn in the winter.

(WOW! That is one long ass sentence, probably missing some punctuation marks but I never claimed to be smart... did I?)

Anyway, last night I sat in my living room and watched a couple of movies. As I'm enjoying the follies of Jack Burton, (if you haven't seen Big Trouble In Little China what are you waiting for?) I notice my neighbors are enjoying the weather by lighting their outside fire pits.

I love the smell of burning wood so I'm taking nice deep breathes. Yup, somebody is burning pine, oh there's some birch, yummm somebody splurged on cedar, ahhh that smell is uh... pot? Yup! Pot!

My neighbor that is not Wilson ( who by the way, still has the freakin ladder up!), we'll call him Boomhauer is having his friends over for a nice wacky tabacky party!

As I get closer to the window to hopefully get a contact high, I wonder 2 things.

1)

Why hasn't anybody reported his sorry ass?

2)

Why are we never invited?

My very own Jack Burton.

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Speaking of BTILC (Big Trouble In Little China, follow along people!)...

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Andy says (at 10:30 pm):

I'm thirsty but I don't want any soda or water.

Bee says:

Have some Mango juice.

Andy [making that lovable noise that's between a sigh, rasberry and a sneeze, he's talented that way]:

I'm not drinking that crap!

Bee asks:

Why? It's really good!

Andy responds:

I'm not gonna eat or drink something that can't fuckin' decide if it's an orange or a peach!

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Ah yes my heart went pittah pattah... ;o)

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*More Jack Burton quotes:

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-You've got a tongue, Dave. Ask her yourself.

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-When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, looks you crooked in the eye and asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: "Have ya paid your dues, Jack?" "Yessir, the check is in the mail."

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-Like I told my last wife, I said, "Honey, I never drive faster than I can see. Besides it's all in the reflexes."

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-Ol' Jack always says . . . what the hell.