The Kerosene and The Fire Place

I don't know how that kerosene got near the god damn fire place. If I knew who did it, I'd ring their sorry neck. Oh, I'd ring it. Terry, you remember him, that old son of a bitch that hauls pigs for that meat company? Terry said that maybe it wasn't a who, but maybe it was just a how. I guess he was supposing that I'd left that kerosene can a little to close to that god damn fire place. I know it wasn't me. I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, but by god I wouldn't do a stupid thing like that. Somebody put that god damn kerosene can near that fire place. I know it. I know they did. Terry said I was paranoid for thinking it. I don't care what that old son of a bitch thinks about it anyhow. As if he'd know any better. Hell, he could have done it. I'd think so for certain if only I knew he'd been out of town when the god damn house burnt.

Thank god I wasn't in that son of a bitch when it got torched. I don't think I've ever thanked god before, but I did then. Terry said that it was the grace of god that I'd been with my boy visiting at his momma's place when it went up. I told him that if my house burnt by the grace of god, then it ain't no god I want to be graced by, by god.  I got a kick outta that last line. Nothing much else to laugh about right now.

Anyhow, I know I'll find that son of a bitch that put that can of kerosene near that fire place. Only thing about it is that I can't think of one person who has been over to have a time with since I pulled that can out of the shed. Why did I have to bring that damn can inside anyhow? I guess I thought if its gonna be cold out, may as well keep the lamp oil near by. No need to freeze my ass off walking back and forth between the shed. I was being practical. That's what I was doing. I was just being practical.

Terry said that I need to work on figuring out the how. He thinks I did it. He thinks I meant to do it. That son of a bitch thinks I did it myself. He said I may have done it without really thinking about it. He said, maybe I just sat it there after I’d been hitting the bottle. I don’t remember those times though. I know I’m not stupid enough to do something like that, even when I’ve been filling my tank. I don’t even hit it that much since the divorce case was settled. A judge sitting up there on his big chair telling you you can’t see your kid as much as you’d like cause you hit the bottle will make you rethink some things. Ah well, habits don’t break too easy. Houses do though, evidently.