"Where the fuck are you?" - I say to her in a direct tone - "I don't appreciate it when you direct vulgar language at me," she responds. "Sorry," I say sheepishly, "It's just that you really fucked up this time. Did you really have to use an AR-15 to shoot the place up? Jesus, every cop in North Las Vegas is looking for you."
Last week someone used an AR-15 to shoot up a house on Star Manor during a drive by. After hearing the news I immediately called my ex wife to inquire about her whereabouts. "Why is it every time someone gets shot, or a place gets shot up, you always call me? Last week I was in Texas," she then bellows angrily, "It wasn't me!"
I don't believe her and tell her such - "Look, don't give me anymore bullshit. I know it is you. The suspect description is the same over and over again. A middle age lady driving an Explorer with a party color toy poodle sitting in the passenger seat. It can't be a coincidence anymore. I refuse to believe that!" I then ask when she got an AR-15 - "None of your goddamn business," she replies forcefully...she then ends the call by saying - "Look, I am getting ready to take Pepper for a walk. This conversation is over!"
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