My mate's Mum died in January, I went to the funeral at the Sallies hall down at Lagoon Sands. Many people that I expected to be there, were absent. She died of sun cancer, with half her family estranged, she was 68. I never met her but last night I stayed in her house. My mate is essentially squatting there until a messy probate is done and dusted. Her other son is contesting her will, to wit, being left out of it.
Nothing there has been touched or packed away, all of her bric-a-brac and gee-gaws are there and the interior of the house is like being inside her mind. Over a dozen affirmation placards are fixed to the walls. Cupboards, birdcages and dangling bead curtains require duck and turn manoeuvres for passage through the two bedroom weatherclad cottage. A bookshelf with positivism and Magical themed books also holds pictures of pet birds + my mate but not his three kids, who I haven't seen IRL. He was stressing about having to buy his nine year old boy a birthday present and not knowing what to get, i told him to get a pocket knife but he had to run that by his kids mum.
At least I got the water going for him, the rainwater tank pump was not working, he bought a new one, an inferior chink-shit to replace the aussie made Davey which merely needed a new $80 dollar part. I let him run with it and didn't flex on him, at least he has running water inside now instead of using bottles and showering at work for months. I also fixed his camping gas burner, which wouldn't work because he was trying to light it in the air entrainment holes.
I got his mum's chinkshit BBQ going and we had the last of my frozen pizzas for tea. I left my multigrips there because the knobs were fucked. We watched some Hitler dubs on his mum's Hisense smart TV and he's keen to watch the other five and a half hours later so I left the USB drive there.
His mum's place is pretty nice even though Lagoon Shores is tomorrow's commuter suburb for Subaru XV Hybrid driving NPC slime. On the way home I went to the Woolies in Sheafburg, the city's ancient bread basket, and was pleased to note the only unsavory Brown, Black or Yellow elements I came across was a Boomer loading Brown paper bags full of Yellow caps into the boot of his Black Ford Explorer. Lovely part of town really. Really nice outing.
Good Night, White