I can't believe that rotten kid of mine went and blowed up his trailer. No, wait, I can believe it. Darrell ain't the sharpest tool in the shed, that's for sure. Arliss ain't much smarter, but at least he has enough brains to cook his meth over a electric stove.

You ain't supposed to go cooking meth near a open flame. If you ain't got access to electric burners, then you're supposed to haul all them volatile organic compounds and whatnot down to the shore of the duckpond and cook it there. If you don't believe it, ask my other boy Arliss' roommate Eddie, or that Speedy guy over to Buzzards Trailertopia about that.

Most of us remember Eddie blowing his trailer up in space #29 a couple years ago. Eddie is still hairless, and he still ain't been able to find anyone to boink him. Same with Speedy, our alternate meth dealer at Buzzards Trailertopia. He done the same thing to his trailer, and the explosion rendered him completely unfuckable, too.

Now my punk kid is laying in the hospital, all red and hairless and bandaged-up mummy-style. It looks like little Darrell went and joined the ranks of the unfuckable, right along with Eddie and Speedy. At least he weren't no virgin when it happened. I know for a fact he lost his virginity to a hooker I picked up and brung home for his fourteenth birthday.

Plus, we all know Darrell plowed one of Maddog's old girlfriends that one time, back before our whole family got arrested and we all went to Hell in a handbasket. Maddog beat the shit out of Darrell for that, if I recall correctly. I was in prison at the time and couldn't do anything about it, but even if I could, I think I woulda let Darrell handle that one hisself. I believe the little punk had it coming to him. Shit, Darrell sent Maddog's girlfriend home wearing nothing but a dirty old T-shirt and skidmarked skivvies.

Okay, so that's twice that Darrell's got to dip his wick that I know of. I certainly hope he got a whole lot more opportunities I don't know about, and I hope he jumped on 'em. Because he ain't gonna get no more opportunities, ever. Just like Eddie and Speedy.

My oldest boy Arliss ain't a whole lot brighter than Darrell. He rode away in a ambulance a few weeks ago, right after Willy got out of the nuthatch. Willy had hoarded half his psych meds that whole two weeks he was locked up. He placed all them pills into cigarette cellophanes and Scotch-taped them all shut. Then he shoved the packets up his ass the day he was fixing to get released from the nuthatch.

A used cigarette cellophane ain't exactly a sterile place, and neither is the inside of somebody's ass, especially not Willy's. We could all tell who had indulged in Willy's keestered psych meds within a day or two, when a bunch of neighbors got hauled to the nuthatch. Arliss had to be stripped out of a tree, and he was still clutching a fistful of leaves when he was shoved, kicking and screaming, headfirst into that paddy wagon.

At least my adopted son Timmy has managed to keep hisself out of trouble lately. It ain't that Timmy don't do illegal stuff, it's that he's smart enough not to get his ass caught. I like that in a kid. A kid like Timmy won't constantly attract cops to my doorstep. Sure, he does attract a cop every now and again, but I think he learned how to be a better criminal when was in juvie.

I think Timmy will do me proud one day. He'll probably end up being a rich smuggler, or a successful white-collar criminal, or a lawyer.

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