Saint Gradon loves to watch the news.  I don’t know why, since all it does is piss him off - I guess he likes being pissed off.  Which should be easy, since he lives with me.

Anyway, this morning, he was watching the news while I was upstairs in the “library” and I heard him start laughing.

I immediately knew that someone was dead.  Or at least terribly injured.  Probably a small child.

I finished up my paperwork and went downstairs to ask Gradon what was going on.

“We gotta new newsgirl on the Sunday morning news,” he grinned over a cup of coffee.

“Uh-huh?  And?”

“And we had us an incident down on Memorial Drive at the Aloha Motor Inn last night,” he replied, still grinning.

“Uh-huh?  And?”

“And Anissa, the newsgirl said, “What had be done happened was that the po-lice was called up in here after a report of a shooting, but they got here and found a guy who’d been beaten, then they figured out he mighta been stabbed.”

I shook my head, lost in the story line.

“So, he wasn’t shot?”

“Nope.”

“And they thought he’d been beaten, but he hadn’t?”

“Nope.”

“But they figured out he was stabbed.”

“Yep.”

Saint “Archie Bunker” Gradon nodded.  “Yep.  I don’t know why they went through all that when they coulda just said “Nigga down.”

Yeah, he’s a complete bigot, but he’s my bigot.

(By the way, the lovely photo at the top is so NOT the Aloha Motor Inn on Memorial Drive in Decatur, Georgia.  I couldn’t find a picture of that particular shithole up on the Google, so I found this pretty one instead.)

Kisses,
Maxine