Please Scroll Down to See Forums Below 
this happened yesterday afternoon; i am still shaking in my shoes over it and the potential aftermath.....
drove my Mother to the winn-dixie (grocery store) yesterday, out in metairie/mayberry, the suburbs where she lives, about 12 miles west of new orleans.
we took my father's/now mom's well maintained, garage kept, oil changed twice a year if it needs it or not '96 nissan maxima, with all of maybe 45K miles on it, as it hasn't been driven in about 2 weeks.
between she and I we staggered outta da store with 2 baskets of groceries.
i am storing my stuff in the trunk, she is putting her groceries in the back seat.
because of the oppressive heat/humidity/sun that is here in nawlinz in august, mom had the engine running and the a/c maxed out, trying to cool off the interior some before we get in.
in retrospect, not a good idea, perhaps.......
after helping mom stow her groceries in the back seat, i am behind the raised trunk lid, trying to fit all my stuff in every nook and cranny of the trunk, bending into the trunk....
i hear this low class voice say "give it up, old lady!"
i cautiously peer around the raised trunk lid and see some guy dressed in baggy pants and a white hooded sweatshirt (in august heat??) with his hand around my mother's elbow just as she is getting into the front seat of the car.
what would YOU do?
guys and gals, i lost it. i went bezerk.
i start bellowing at this knuckehead "aaaaHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! GOD DAMN GHETTO MUTAAA FUKKAAA!!!!!!!! YA AIN'T GETTIN' YO' HANDS ON THIS CAURR!"
as i am screaching out every vile, hatefull curse word and phrase in my rather voluminous vocabulary, i am throwing groceries at the dude...a gallon of skim milk, a half gallon of blue bell low fat frozen yogurt, bottled water, cans of corn, peas and turnip greens...whatever came to hand.
the would-be car jacker sprints across 2 rows of cars and jumps into the back seat of a red pontiac grand prix with bling-bling chrome wheels and they peel out of the parking lot.
i know i shatterd the back window with a large can of well aimed blue runner red beans as they made their rapid escape.
jayysussssss..................
drove my Mother to the winn-dixie (grocery store) yesterday, out in metairie/mayberry, the suburbs where she lives, about 12 miles west of new orleans.
we took my father's/now mom's well maintained, garage kept, oil changed twice a year if it needs it or not '96 nissan maxima, with all of maybe 45K miles on it, as it hasn't been driven in about 2 weeks.
between she and I we staggered outta da store with 2 baskets of groceries.
i am storing my stuff in the trunk, she is putting her groceries in the back seat.
because of the oppressive heat/humidity/sun that is here in nawlinz in august, mom had the engine running and the a/c maxed out, trying to cool off the interior some before we get in.
in retrospect, not a good idea, perhaps.......
after helping mom stow her groceries in the back seat, i am behind the raised trunk lid, trying to fit all my stuff in every nook and cranny of the trunk, bending into the trunk....
i hear this low class voice say "give it up, old lady!"
i cautiously peer around the raised trunk lid and see some guy dressed in baggy pants and a white hooded sweatshirt (in august heat??) with his hand around my mother's elbow just as she is getting into the front seat of the car.
what would YOU do?
guys and gals, i lost it. i went bezerk.
i start bellowing at this knuckehead "aaaaHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! GOD DAMN GHETTO MUTAAA FUKKAAA!!!!!!!! YA AIN'T GETTIN' YO' HANDS ON THIS CAURR!"
as i am screaching out every vile, hatefull curse word and phrase in my rather voluminous vocabulary, i am throwing groceries at the dude...a gallon of skim milk, a half gallon of blue bell low fat frozen yogurt, bottled water, cans of corn, peas and turnip greens...whatever came to hand.
the would-be car jacker sprints across 2 rows of cars and jumps into the back seat of a red pontiac grand prix with bling-bling chrome wheels and they peel out of the parking lot.
i know i shatterd the back window with a large can of well aimed blue runner red beans as they made their rapid escape.
jayysussssss..................
Coincidentally, Blue Runner is the same brand my ex-wife (a Marrero native) used. 
