Walmart Is A Comedy Goldmine

People have been asking me if I was ever going to blog again.

Okay, fine, I'm back.

I spent most of the summer in a pretty bleak state of mind, and nothing kills my creativity faster than depression. But I finally found something that was so effing ridiculous that I couldn't stay in a funk.

I was walking down the aisle at Walmart - yes, I know, they're reprehensible corporate bastards, but there are some things you can't buy elsewhere, not here in South Alabama.

Anyway, I was in Satan's Discount Den, looking for socks or bug spray or some damn thing, and I overheard the following snippet:


God strike me dead for laughing at some poor bastard who's about to be unemployed, but that's funny right there.

So I'm back.

I have more to say about work and mythology and soap and Walmart, but I don't wanna blow it all in one day. Stay tuned.

EEEEEWWWW

Okay, it's going to be another post without pictures. That's because I'm kind and considerate and don't want to squick you out.

Because here's the thing: summer in Florida includes mandatory visits of Palmetto Bugs. If you've never seen one of these beasts, the first thing you should do is spend 20 minutes or so thinking about how lucky you are and then congratulate yourself for living somewhere reasonable.

Palmetto Bugs are Florida cockroaches. They're 2-3 inches long, not afraid of light, and they FLY. The effing monsters FLY. They also run toward you if you startle them. And they bite.

Bander is horribly confused by them. At first, he thought they were mice (yes, they're that big). One got in the house last night and he started chasing it until he actually got close, and then he got all big eyed and ran away. When a bug is big enough to scare away a hundred pound dog, it's pretty big.

I used my patented Palmetto Bug killing technique, which is to flap my hands like a wounded chicken and do my Special Roach Dance while I scream for Jesse to come kill it. When he isn't home, I either stun them with a broom and sweep them away - since I don't have to get any closer than the length of the broom handle - or, if I miss with the first whack and make the giant bug angry, I run away. Since they fly and I can't, this involves a lot of panicking and slamming doors. Of course Jesse is reading this while I type and keeps reminding me that they can crawl under the doors and now I'm afraid to ever sleep again unless I can find some sort of combo jammies/beekeeper getup.

Bugs are gross.

Love Shack

I both love and hate our current house.



(No, this is not our actual decrepit shack. It's close, though.)

I love the trees, of course. And I love the fact that we have workroom and workshop space. I love that it's an older house, and has some character and charm that you just don't find in new cookie-cutter houses. It reminds me of my grandmother's farm house from early childhood. When I look out at the yard I keep thinking I should plant tomatoes or keep chickens. (Neither of which I have time for, mind you.)

I hate the neighbors, or at least their hellspawn kids. I hate the fact that since our house is old, the rooms are very very small. Our queen-sized bed is damn near wall-to-wall, and that's in the biggest bedroom. And right now I hate the landlord.
Here are the things that have broken, since we moved in:

1. The heater, twice, during January. It was forty degrees in the house one night.
2. The plumbing. Apparently the pipes for the washer and dryer were installed by chimps, because if you do more than a very small load of laundry, the sink in the garage overflows.
3. The fence. We had to do our own repairs, just for Bander's safety.
4. The plumbing some more. There's a leak in the backyard somewhere. Which I suppose means that I don't have to water, which is fine.
5, And now.... the air conditioning has decided to be fussy.
This is indeed the South. I can't describe our natural surroundings without using words like "lush", "green", "humid", and possibly "dank". "Moss-covered" and "languid" are high on the list, too. It isn't truly hot yet, not full summertime hot, but it's warm. And if the house is empty during the day, when we get home it's in the high 80's inside, and dammit, we need a little AC to bring it down to a balmy and tolerable 79.



What we've learned about the landlord is that they will wait until I raise seven different kinds of hell before they actually fix anything. The plumbing issues are something we've been discussing since mid-March, and we've seen a plumber exactly once. He scratched his head, opined that they needed to replumb half the house, and drove off. That was the end of that.


They did fix the heater, since it was broken when we moved in and it was actually possible to get frostbite in the living room. They promised to send tree trimmers and fence repairmen, but that never happened because there wasn't any health risk. I bet I have to bitch a LOT before they worry about whether I'm a mite warm this evening.

I'm sure I could use the plumbing issues to break the lease. But I just got all the boxes unpacked, not that long ago.

What should I do?

What Are You Doing?

Why are you reading this?

Go out and play!

Summertime and the Living is... ...Crazy!

I have a theme for the summer season:

Lemme ‘splain.

I was talking to Jesse about my summer blog, and a couple of entries I had in mind – there are some complete whackjobs in my office that deserve an entry, and a couple of personal stories of loonies I have known, if not loved.

Plus the spring fashion collections were just released, and Helena Bonham Carter is still roaming the streets free as a bird, so there are boatloads of things to discuss.

We agreed that there is way too much crazy roaming around the world at the moment for us to hog it all.

So, please, I beg of you, send me your crazy stories!

I’ll have to hide the names of the perps – crazies tend to be vindictive – but I want to post your tales. The best story will receive a gift from my shop – details to be worked out and announced shortly.

I’ll also be running periodic Batshit Crazy sales, with completely random discounts and time frames.

Now, I’m off to work on the first post, so you’ll see what I have in mind, and figure out a good giveaway.

But watch for more info soon!

Let the Sun Shine

This is usually one of my favorite times of year – we get a heavy marine layer here, so there’s a traditional overcast referred to as June Gloom. It expanded a bit in the past decade, so we got to add May Gray.

Now, I’m a big fan of humidity and I love, love, love the fog.

However.

This is flippin’ ridiculous.

As much as I like humid moments, there has been a constant drizzle going on at my house for a month. The sidewalks have been wet 24/7. And I have soap that needs to dry.

So, those of you with special orders who are wondering where your stuff is? It’s on my drying racks, not getting dry, dammit. I need to make more soap, but I can’t do it unless some of this stuff moves out of the way.

I am glaring at the clouds.

Do you think it will help?

June Gloomitude