Jenny's Journal Sept. 6

Found staked to the chest of female zombie, still undead, Elmira, New York.

Jenny’s Journal, Sept. 6

Unbelievable!  Mother finally gets out of bed and now we’re being told we have to stay in the house!  I love mom, but a week in this house with her lying in bed with the TV blaring loud enough to wake the dead twenty-four/seven, is just too much.

Now Mr. Foxworth is adding more piss and vinegar to our coffee.  That guy always gave me the creeps.  He must weigh 110 pounds soaking wet, and with that 1970’s porno mustache and greasy black hair – oy!   He reminds me of a gay scare crow  Mr.  Big Shot thinks being president of the condo association makes him royalty.  He’s been bitching about the flamingos and garden gnomes on mom’s front lawn since Jesus wore short pants. Then that stupid petition, and now, I can’t BELIEVE what he did! 

 He kept banging on the door all morning, moaning and groaning.  Mom refused to speak to the man. She just kept yelling at the door and Mr. Foxworth just kept banging against it.  By the time tea was up, I was ready to start screaming myself. Mom kept yelling, shouting about fascism and how her garden gnomes gave this ‘shithole’ character, and how she was going to go out and adopt “101 gosh fucking darn Dalmatians!” Between you and me, journal, those gnomes give me the creeps.   I mean, who wants a bunch of little dwarfs laying about their lawn all day and night?   It’s not natural.

 Finally she worked herself up for a face-to-face and threw open the door. Foxworth was a mess!  He wasn’t knocking on the door; he was banging his head against it. His cheesy mustache was caked with blood and his eyes were glazed and unfocused.  Mom was so shocked she stopped screaming.  Then he… he bit her, right on the arm!  Boy, what a mistake that was!  Mom’s not exactly ‘small boned’ and she’s been known to have a temper.  

Well, let me tell you, after mom got over the shock of being bitten, she repaid Mr. Foxworth in kind, and then some.   She grabbed that crazy man by the arm and bit him right back and, believe me, it was no love bite.   But that wasn’t enough for mom.   She smacked, pummeled and kicked poor Foxworth all the way down the front lawn.   When he fell on the sidewalk, Mom picked up one of the flamingo’s and began hammering him with it.   I had to drag her back into the house.  A few of the neighbor’s were out and had started walking over.  You know how everybody loves a show!

I cleaned mom up and put a bandage on the wound where he bit her.   It wasn’t bad but he bit hard enough to draw blood (so did she!).   Now she’s upstairs in bed again, ranting about the condo association.   All this before breakfast.  Oy!

That’s all for now journal (I hope!)

Ttyl J