Crazy-Ass Crazy

As one of those "observer" types, I gotta tell ya, nothing is more entertaining to me than some crazy-ass crazy stuff going down.

And it's hard to say which I like better, when the crazy-ass crazy is happening to somebody else (and I get to hear the stories about it), or when it is happening in my sphere and I get to be the story teller.




Actually, I've thought about it, and I do prefer to be a direct witness to the crazy-ass crazy.


What can I say? I love telling stories about the crazy. They are delightfully amusing to me. Here's an example: Do you know why I always have bendy straws in my house now? Always? Because one evening, a couple of years ago, when my crazy-ass stepdaughter was doing the dishes, she pitched a fit because one of my children had left a bendy straw in a drink cup, and put that cup in the sink to be washed. Instead of walking the two steps to the garbage can and throwing the offending straw away, she went to "Daddy", complained about the bendy straw incident and convinced him that leaving a bendy straw in a cup on her dish night amounted to some kind of high crime--a personal slap in the face. In his on-going effort to pamper her and give her anything she wanted at the expense of everybody else in the household, crazy-ass husband took the dramatic step of BANNING bendy straws from the household. In fact, in his fervor to make a Very Big And Loud Deal out of it, he went to the drawer where we kept them, took out and THREW AWAY an entire package of bendy straws, right there on the spot.

Which I thought was just nuts.


But her word was law, after all. She got anything she wanted. And most of what she wanted was to punish my children and me for imagined crimes. You know...the kind of crime that only takes place in the head of a crazy person?

Now that I no longer live with those crazy people, I make a point to say YES every time one of my daughters asks for bendy straws. YES! You CAN have bendy straws! I'll buy a CASE of bendy straws! A gross of bendy straws! I have no idea where I am supposed to store them, but damn-it, there WILL be bendy straws! I don't even care if I have to fish them out of the sink! Because I am not crazy and have faith in the universe, I happen to know that when it is their turn to do the dishes, they'll have to fish them out of the sink, too, and maybe eventually, they'll stop doing that, but, even if they don't, WHO CARES? The garbage can is two steps away!


Unfortunately, I can't tell ALL the crazy-ass crazy stories, cuz some of them are still in "pending" status (that is to say, I'll likely make it worse by talking about it) but trust me, there are many. Here's another one for ya:

My best friend's dog is diabetic. She and her girlfriend give the dog 2 insulin shots a day. Everyone who knows them is aware of this--they have no human children, but they have two very, very well-taken-care-of dogs, one of whom needs insulin to survive. They have a prescription for insulin needles at the local pharmacy, and buy human insulin. They are quite normal, fine, upstanding, gainfully employed citizens, both of whom know how to have a good time, and neither of whom party all that much.

But yesterday, an acquaintance of theirs, out of the blue, called them up and asked for a needle.


Ahem. Yes. A needle. As in, she wanted a needle to inject drugs.


Whaaa? Something in your crazy-ass crazy head made you think that two non-drug users would hop right over to your house and supply you with paraphernalia?


That is some crazy-ass crazy sh*t...


(I gotta tell you, though...the drug addict in this case is easier to understand than the stepdaughter. I mean, we already KNOW the addict is nuts because they're injecting random, dangerous shit into their body. Step-daughter was full-on evil-crazy, while SOBER...)


Crazy-ass crazy people are like an endless supply of really amazing true stories for a storyteller like me. While it is true that not all of them are funny, the ones where no one is physically injured or killed are ALL fantastic! Sure, they don't feel fantastic while they are happening, but the moment we emerge unscathed, it's all good--let 'er rip! And, what the hell--if you're legally able, name names. Somebody has to warn the others not to move in with these people!