All quacked up and no place to go

These plucking quackheads.  They literally quack me up, every morning at the quack of dawn.  Right outside my bedroom window, they call for the Innocent Bystander to get the flock out there to feed them.  Don't they know that quack is whack?

Okay.  Mo' betterer now.  *sips coffee*

Yesterday was a very good day.  The IB's wire transfer came in, so we got to make that long anticipated trip to the bank to *DRUM ROLL PLEASE* pay off the house.  Now the only two things we have that are not paid for are the boat and the camper.  If worse comes to worse, they can have those back, and we will still always have a place to live.  What a feeling of peace!

While I did some chores around the houseboat, the IB went to the house and bleached it and broke a pipe in the process, so he went to Lowes to get some PVC to fix it.  When he got back, I got confirmation that he does, in fact, read my blog, for there in the bag he brought in was a light fixture to replace that forking chandelier.  He really does love me!

On the way to the play, we went by Circuit City and picked him up a little mortgage burning present-his long dreamed of set of Bose speakers which he's been farting around with all morning.  (And may I suggest, dude, that when you go outside at quack-thirty to play with said speakers full blast that you play COUNTRY music?  I mean, I don't want someone to take you OUT and I don't think most folks around here appreciate Stevie Wonder like you and I do.  Just a thought.)

The play.  Oh, my.  El Juevo (and YES I KNOW IT IS SPELLED HUEVO BUT THAT IS NOT HOW WE SPELL HIS NAME) did just fine and dandy (his character actually was a dandy!) and we had no seizure problems at all.  The play itself, and this is just my opinion, was a pain in the arse to watch.  The characters were supposed to be speaking in an Irish brogue, which was kind of hard for some of these little southerners to master, so you really had to concentrate on translating what they were saying to keep up with the plot.  But there was one rather Reubenesque young lady who was playing a shall we say 'simple' girl, and when she started dancing around the room, I almost came unglued.  I'm sitting there with my mom, the Purv, and the IB and when she started twirling around and her skirt lifted up around her EARS, all I could think of was the skirt to my sex costume from a couple of weeks ago.  And then I had to wait for her to twirl around again before I could determine whether or not she in fact HAD ON ANY KNICKERS.  At this point, I think the IB had already started snoring, so I don't think he noticed, but Mom and the Purv know how my mind works and they are watching me try to hold it together with my shoulders shaking and tears and snot streaming down my face, choking back the snorts, which got the two of them started.  Then toward the end she brings out this bloody damn rooster that lays on the stage for the rest of the play and while they are droning on onstage I'm thinking about the fact that there is a stiff bloody COCK just laying there.  All in all it went very well.  And I have no problem with the fact that my son is more comfortable wearing makeup than I am.

P.S.  Dude-I'm sorry I intimated that you were going to get some yesterday and then didn't come through.  I just couldn't get the image of (potentially) flapping labia and those pearly white thighs and that bloody damn chicken out of my head, and I didn't want to hurt your feelers if I burst out laughing whilst we were doing it.  I hope this morning kinda made up for it.  I know you buttered my biscuit!