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That Fucking Fleetwood has been left alone while his daughter is attending his grand-daughter's graduation from Navy basic training.
Marvyn and I have been swinging by at least once a day to make sure he's doing well, despite being sick as a dog these past few days.
If we were organized, we'd be dangerous! But we're managing to actually help rather than hinder... at least so far.
The biggest hindrance has been getting through the fucking gate of his gated community.
It'd prolly be easier if I was cleared to drive, but we're managing well.
What I really want is a magic wand to make Willard all better and not need us to check up on him.
I'll bet he'd like to be magically healed too!
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