Oh, GO AWAY!

So I'm pissed. My gun didn't come in today. It'll get here tomorrow, but that made me cranky.

So I went for a run. But I didn't get good sleep last night and got up early for the world's most stupid reason (which I won't bother telling you about), so my run sucked weasel ass.

Then Mr. Abby came home and, although he's in the middle of coordinating logisitics for...some group of yahoos, is still persisting in insisting we have some sort of motorcycle related dinner outing.

So I'm tired. I don't have a (new) gun. All the phones in the house are ringing. Mr. Abby is talking into one and fumbling with the other. And some ASSHOLE knocks on my door. Which causes the Bad Dogs to flip the hell out into a barking, yowling, door crowding frenzy.

I open the door, kicking dogs, and stick my head out. Mormons! Two earnest looking young fellas with LDS nametags.

I'm afraid I wasn't as polite as I could have been. I should probably load up an extra gat and put out the claymores. Once Mormons get into your neighborhood, they can harder to get rid of than moles.