Just get me a shotgun and a shovel and I'll figure out the rest

Sunday 5:30 P.M.

"Good evening I'm Stephanie Guadian, out Top Story tonight the small town of Sante Fe mourns
"Let me guess accident."
"Hmm."
"...killed in a single car accident on F.M. 1960 last night..."
"Yep."

The phone rings, my mom answers.
It's my grandma.

(gasp)
"Oh my God."

My mom is real dramatic if I've never told you.

(gasp for like the fourth time)
"He's going to end like one of those people with their heads cut off."

The first thing that came to my mind was that woman's husband (who I can't think the name of) in Iraq got kidnapped or something but it wasn't. Afterwards she hangs up.

"Mrs. G. died."
"What? You're kidding?"
"She died."
"We (stuttering) just saw her a couple of months ago she seemed fine! What do you mean she's dead?"
"She got real sick."
"What do you mean? She never ate like grandma, what do mean she's dead?"
"How the hell should I know"
I leave to the kitchen to get my mind off and start washing dishes, my mom comes up to me.

"What are you going to do with me when I get old?"
"Why are you asking me this?"
"Well?"
"Just get me a shotgun and a shovel and I'll figure out the rest."
"Thank You."


I'm coming home in the rain yesterday and the truck next to me on the freeway does a 360 into the gaurd rail, clipping a van, I just sat there and waited to get hit.