Thursday, May 05, 2016

It has to be genetic.

At least, from the mind set of folks round about it is the mothers fault. Never mind that the son’s are the ones doing the action.

Now what am I fluffing over today?

Near neighbor. That was easy. Actually, it is his younger brother – who is 49 years. This time the fellow made the papers front page, picture and all.

I’ve written of his exploits: punching a hole in a diesel oil tank, spilling five hundred gallons of fuel his cousin needed for harvest; stealing his fathers expensive machine andd he and near neighbor  burying it along the R.R. tracks and swearing to the old man it was stolen by others they having no knowledge of it; slipping illicit drugs into their mothers food without her knowledge; being drug distributers; dropping the dime on three meth makers – two of whom were killed fighting the police and one who killed our sheriff.

Not a good family.

This time, after a couple of years oof police scrutiny, losing his drivers license, stealing a four wheeler (the owner of which refused to press charges) and skating, the fellow was seen riding a four wheeler down main street.

The sheriff deputies gave chase and the chase went down back roads into an adjacent county. The chase ended when the fellow ran into a bull dozer and front end loader pf the neighboring county and he was apprehended for driving without a license, no tags, driving revoked, meth paraphernalia, a quantity of meth, fleeing, and a couple of other things.

It is hard to feel for the guy. It’s almost as if he is destined to return to prison.

But, remember, it is his mothers fault – and I almost believe that. Not quite, but I’ve considered it.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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