Up for Air

*tries to work up a blush* 

*fails miserably*

Nice weather we're having.  How's the kids?  Your mama?  (Hush, Dar-I KNOW how yo' mama is.)

Does everyone have their New Years resolutions all ready to drag out tomorrow?  I must admit, I have not been giving them enough thought what with having my brains addled regularly for three days and all, but I'm working on them.  

I have mixed feelings about the end of 2008.  I know the country has been through hell this last year, but our personal bottom line this year is eversomuch mo' betterer than it was in 2007 that I kind of hate to see it go.  I hate to even wish for more as it feels weird enough to be doing well when everyone else is just trying to keep their heads above water.  This job that the Innocent Bystander finagled?  *shakes head*  I really, honestly never expected it to work out.  I spent the whole first hitch waiting to hear that he'd been kidnapped and wondering if he would actually get paid and praying that if he ever made it home his old company would take him back.  The whole second hitch I still wanted him to keep the lines of communication open with the old company.  Now that the house is paid off and our only outstanding debts are for frivolous things that wouldn't kill us were we to lose them, I only focus on his absence as the normal inconvenience his job is, no matter where it is.  Which is, I rectom, as it should be.  

In any case, we are saying farewell to the old and ushering in the new in the traditional manner. I have the requisite 25 lb. ham roasting for the shindig at the Shingle Mill tonight, and will save the bone for my blackeyed peas and greens for tomorrow.  We have enough beer stocked in the beverage locker that the houseboat has a decided list to the left, and the IB has the stereo going full blast outside so all the neighbors can wonder at his peculiar taste in New Years music. Champagne is chilling HERE this year, since last year it somehow disappeared from the bar cooler before midnight, and I think I am actually going to put on some makeup.  

The Innocent Bystander?  He is outside working on something extremely special.  Once again, my magical blog has caused something to happen that I thought was impossible, and I'm still not sure it is going to work, so I will save that revelation for tomorrow.  If it does, I will believe that ANYTHING is possible in 2009!

Ya'll have a safe and happy celebration tonight!  Please don't drink and drive-I don't want to lose any of you!

Lagniappe: Click here.

Purrrrrrrr

D Day

*looks around excitedly*  I feel like one of those little rat dogs that pee a little when they get all wound up.  Better not be rubbin' MY belly today unless you mean it.  

Did I mention that today is THE DAY?  Fifty five very long days ago, the Innocent Bystander took off for Nigeria, and as of five minutes ago, his plane was about a half inch off the coast of Mauritania, give or take a millimeter.  Delta has a groovy feature-if you go to their website homepage, in the bottom left corner of the screen there is a box marked flight status.  I put in the IB's flight number (57) and I can see in real time where his plane is.  I just want to scootch it closer...faster...harder...*bitch slaps self* Huh?  *weak grin*  Oh.  Heh.

Speaking of scootching (*shakes head* I know-I ain't right).  I forgot to tell ya'll the other day that I did not win PlungerGirl's contest for the Throbbin' Robbin.  This is not a bad thing, as I was saving myself for the IB anyway, and besides-that thing looked DANGEROUS.  Not to mention, I have kind of a mental block against most vibrators.  It started many years ago...

Back when I was a sweet young thang, I bought my first vibrator.  It was the standard, rigid plastic C battery operated number that was available off the shelf at Spencers back in the 70s. Mr. Smiley was loyal and trustworthy.  He got the job done with minimal fuss.  As time went on, though, he became less reliable.  His contacts became worn down, and sometimes he would let me down at THE most inopportune moment.  Or his batteries would slow down and peter out (heh) and leave me whacking him *rolls eyes* against the nightstand in frustration.  After one such exercise in futility, I decided to take the bull by the horns (good God, somebody STOP me!) and make sure I was never at the mercy of batteries again, so I bought myself the deluxe ELECTRIC 'personal massage unit'.  (Funny how things come full circle, eh?)

A few years pass.  I become involved with the ASSHOLE who would become my first husband.  He was a charming fellow with a great sense of humor.  He worked at a local cemetary cutting grass and digging graves, and would come home for lunch every day at noon.  I would have his sandwiches or whatever ready, he would come in, hand me whichever flower he had chosen for me that day...*pauses to give that time to sink in*...and then we would have a little afternoon delight before he went back to work.  It became a routine.

Well, YOU know what happens when things become routine.  Same thing.  Over.  And over. And over.  Especially when your time is limited, although six pokes and a squirt really don't take THAT much time.  Anyway, more times than not, he would get his, and I would get all OHOHOHAHHH and thrash around a bit so as not to damage his precious ego, and he would get dressed and go back to work.  Then I would get to work.

There was only one problem.  The house that we lived in was a converted barn, and it only had one electrical outlet in the main part of the house, and that was in the bedroom.  Well, on this particular day, it was very hot, and while I wanted some 'relief', I did not want to go roll around all by myself in that sweaty bed that we'd just sullied.  The living room was air conditioned, so I decided to 'set myself up' there.  I got out one of those hundred foot long fluorescent orange extension cords and snaked it through the bedroom, through the dining room, and over to the long leather couch in the living room.  I set up pillows and lit a candle and got out my book and got myself all settled.  I found a favorite short 'story' and started myself off on low speed. I was all spread out and at the point where I was no longer concentrating on what I was reading, almost to THAT POINT.  At the precise moment when I was about to cross that threshold, I heard a sharp intake of breath, and my eyes flew open to see the ASSHOLE standing in the doorway of the living room, eyes wide and most definitely comprehending the implications of his sweet young bride nekkid as a jaybird, spread eagled on the living room couch with her back arched, tethered by the vagina to a hundred foot long fluorescent orange electrical leash not thirty minutes after he had supposedly 'taken care of' me.  Talk about ruining a moment. *shakes head*  

Needless to say, I haven't been able to look at a vibrator-OR an extension cord-the same way since.  Yeah, every once in a while, I'll think back fondly to the days of Mr. Smiley, but somehow, I just can't bring myself to go there.  The only appliance I need these days is a spatula.  *wicked evil grin*

Okay.  That took my mind off of things for a few minutes.  Now I have to leave ya'll to your own devices whilst I unravel the cornrows and mow my legs and decide how I'm going to gussie up the pink parts.  Fair warning-I'm SURE my post will be late tomorrow!

The Countdown Begins

*sings at the top of her lungs*  TOOOMORROWWW!  TOOOOMORROWWW!  I'LL BOINK YA!  TOOOMORROWWW!  IT'S ONLY...A DAAAAYYYYY....AHHH.....WAAAAYYYYYY!!!   YOWZA!

How nice.  That got the birdies going better than the Good Morning Jesus song did this morning. They must know Daddy's coming home.  I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt, anyway, 'cuz otherwise I'm fixing to make me some African Grey gumbo.  Nemo has been a royal pain in my fanny this morning.  I just fixed him a bowl of fresh pellets, a bowl of fresh Special K, and a bowl of fresh carrots, corn on the cob, celery, apple, globe grapes (the only grapes he will eat) and raspberries.  What does he do?  He starts throwing food at me and pulling his dishes off the cage because I neglected to fill up his peanut holder.  Ungrateful little shitfactory.  

Speaking of Africans (like that segue, do ya?) I reminded the Innocent Bystander to wish everyone a happy Kwanzaa before he leaves the Fatherland.  He reported in this morning.  He has been from his boat to Warri to Lagos, through two airports, and says that NO ONE knew what the flock he was talking about.  I could do a whole post on the parallels between the seven principals of Kwanzaa here and in Nigeria, but then I would be walking that racist tightrope again, and I certainly wouldn't want that.  Besides...for the sake of THIS blog, I'm not that deep. *church lady look*  

Well, I rectom I'd better cut this short today.  I went over to the house to get a bottle of non-fartwater so I could make coffee this morning and my neighbor stopped me on my way out. Seems she needs someone to take pictures of bruises she has all over her arms, chest, legs etc. I didn't get the details, but evidently there is trouble in paradise, because when I got back from the house, her boyfriend was back and he's packing all of his stuff up.  I guess she'll be over here soon so I can document her 'evidence'.  Hope he doesn't turn all her gas on like he did last time. I have been watching out of one eye whilst I wrote this, and he just finished getting his boat on the trailer, so it looks like they may mean business, although this isn't the first time this has happened.  

See ya'll tomorrow!  I imagine I will be ON MY GAME so you can expect all kinds of merriment as I ready the girly bits for their final deflowering of the year.  Can you FEEL the excitement?

Lagniappe:

A Very Merry Christmas

Sorry I'm late.  I've been chasing curly bird turds with a high pressure hose this morning-BEFORE I had my coffee!  Touch me.  G'head.

Yesterday was loverly.  The very Innocent Bystander woke me up with the first of many phone calls wishing me a Merry Christmas.  After giving ya'll a heads up, I separated out all of El Juevo's presents and loaded everything up and headed over to the house.  I know I surprised him with at least one of them.  I got him a "real" puppet that he can work with his good hand. He does live broadcasts on www.stickam.com and I checked in on him last night and he was showing his audience the puppet, pointing out his sleazy mustache.  I found out that he named him Dirty Sanchez.  My kinda kid.

After my first non-fartwater shower all week (the pipes at the house froze last week, so it was fartwater or nothing at all) we got ready and headed over to Dar's.  We did our gift exchange, where she surprised me with this little guy:

I collect gnomes, and this is my new favorite.  He is going to be a home gnome, though.  I can't put him outside here-when it floods, gnomes tend to escape.  I guess they swim back to where the river meets the Keebler forest and then make a run for it. ^^shrug^^  I'm taking no chances with my patron Saint of gnomes. *wink*

We left Dar's and headed over to Mom and Daddy's, where we were, for the first time, the last to arrive.  As soon as we got there, I pulled my brother outside to 'splain to him what I had come up with and carried in my bag of presents.  After I greeted everyone and Jeff had come back in the house, we all sat in a circle and passed out presents.  While everyone was busy unwrapping, I slipped out of the house and got El Juevo's old laptop out of the trunk and quietly carried it in and handed it to Claire.  I then handed her an old keyboard I had laying around.  She looked at me with her great big eyes, not comprehending.  I said, "It is yours now. You will have to plug this keyboard in because the keyboard on the laptop doesn't work. It is not perfect, but it IS a laptop."  I then explained that the wireless capability was not working either, and that it had some quirks that she would have to learn to work around, and that she would have to plug it in to power it because the battery would not hold a charge, but she assured me that she was just thankful to have one, period.  She forgot about opening presents for awhile whilst she busied herself hooking up one component to another, creating a spiderweb of wires across the living room rug.  After about fifteen minutes she got everything hooked up and got it booted up.  Then she asked me if it would work if she took it someplace like Starbucks that has free wifi, and again I gently explained that she would have to get some kind of USB wireless adapter or something and would have to take the keyboard and would have to find a plug, etc. At that point, Jeff reminded Claire that we were all opening presents, and said "Oh, and I forgot one.  Claire, would you please go out to the truck and get the box that is in the back seat?"  She got up and ran outside while everyone looked around quizzically.

She returned very slowly carrying a medium sized flat box that she handed to Jeff.  He took it from her and said "I'll make you a deal.  I'll trade you what is in this box for that."  He pointed to her 'laptop' sitting on the floor.  She looked at him, and looked at the mass of wires on the floor and said what is it?  He handed it to her and told her to open it.  Inside was a brand new Acer laptop with all the bells and whistles-webcam, wireless, 3G of RAM.  She looked at him uncomprehendingly and said "It's a new laptop."  He said, "I know.  I will trade you the new one for the one Aunt Jackie just gave you.  That way, I can learn how to use a computer, and you will be able to do all the things on the new one that you were wanting one for."  It was a Christmas miracle if I ever saw one.  I could see him grow ten feet tall in her eyes, and it makes my heart swell to think about it now.  

Another blessing was my brother himself.  It has been a very tough year for him-he is a bricklayer, and because of the economy, he hasn't had much work lately.  He is in his second year of sobriety, and for the first time since he was a teenager, he has lost this dark look that seemed to have become a part of him.  Even after he had been 'saved' and been through rehab umpteen times, it still clung to him like a second skin, but this year, he just has this lightness of spirit that has been missing for so, so long.  We had a wonderful afternoon catching up, watching silly videos on Claire's computer, and talking about weird things like skunks that won't die and how if you buy a coon after it has been scrinched (dressed for cooking) you have to make sure they leave a paw on it to make sure it's not a cat.  GOOD TIMES.

After we had all eaten our Christmas gumbo and oyster stew and ham and homemade bread and a dessert of both vanilla AND chocolate dump cake (I had oyster stew for dessert), it was time to head east.  I had decided well in advance that El Juevo and I would go to a movie on our way home.  "Marley and Me" has been hyped in trailers for months, and it was premiering on Christmas Day.  Well, evidently half of the coast had the same idea, because the theater was packed.  It was the first time I've been to a movie in a long time where I actually had a stranger sitting in a seat next to me.  And if there was ever a movie I did NOT want a stranger next to me?  THIS ONE.  I honestly cannot believe that they would premier this particular movie on Christmas.  I figured a movie that premiered on Christmas would be all happy happy joy joy, but not this Ole Yeller. You could probably hear the sniffling where you are.  By the time we walked out of there, both of us had been snotting and snorting back tears for half an hour, and our faces were so swollen we decided to just go home rather than stopping at the Awful Waffle for Christmas dinner.  (I don't want to infer that it was not a good movie, because it was, I just think it was a poor choice for Christmas, especially if you took small children.)

And then?  When I got home?  I turned on my computer to check email and let everyone know how the day went, and when I logged into Blogger, I discovered that my selfish wish for more followers had been fulfilled!  Since I put that wish into writing, I have gained five, count'em, FIVE new additions to the Beautifulist People I know.  Santa Clause (and ya'll) came through!

So.  The only thing that could have made my Christmas more perfect would have been for the very Innocent Bystander to be here and enjoy me it with me.  How was everyone's else's Christmas?  Did Santy Clause bring you everything you wished for? What did he bring you that you definitely DIDN'T wish for?  What is the weirdest thing you ever got...or gave?  

Lagniappe:

Christmas Kawicky

Just a note because I don't want to be responsible for anyone passing out from holding their breath waiting for my supposed "real post" for today. *snort*  The day is, for the most part, in the can, so I feel safe in saying it was, in many ways, one of my best Christmases ever.  Please don't take offense, but I am selfishly going to take tonight to savor it all by myself, roll it around awhile in my mind like the sugarplum of a day it was, and sleep on it.  I promise to share tomorrow.

Merry Merry Happy Happy

Nope.  Sorry to get your hopes up *snort*(I know, I know...you lose SLEEP waiting for my pearls of wisdom, no?) but this is not an actual post.  I just looked outside and realized that the fog is not lifting.  It is, in fact, descending.  Which means I need to get my ass in gear.

Santa Clause stopped by here sometime last night and left a pile of presents wrapped in purple that I need to go deliver.  I am thinking for the sake of time that I am going to make El Juevo wait to open his stuff until I get to Mom and Daddy's (also because Santa's writing got REALLY TINY as he worked his way through the sixpack I left him and I can't finger out which ones are his), which will be after a quick trip to Dar's.  I am cold blooded like that.  

Point?  Post will be late today.  I'm off to enjoy the day with my real life family and hopefully will have another phone call or two from the Innocent Bystander (we've already had one) who is officially my hero, which you'll hear more about this evening.  I hope you all have a wonderful day full of good friends, food, family and fun-check back mo' laterer for the Santa report.

Don't Bring Me Down

I am so conflicted this morning.

My brother called me at the asscrack of dawn this morning to quiz me on who likes what candywise.  He then informed me that the laptop deal he was counting on for my niece had fallen through, and that she was having a meltdown.

I love this child, but my goodness, she is spoiled rotten.  I am grasping at straws trying to come up with a way for my brother to fulfill his daughter's Christmas wish, but in a way I just want to shake her until her teeth rattle.  She is making him feel like a big ole pile of crap because of something he has no control of.  She puts a great deal of stock in THINGS, and all I can think of is how lucky we are to have two Christmases in a row where her father is clean and sober.  At least I think he is.  I dread the thought that this might be the thing that throws him off that wagon.  I don't think my parents could take it.

I am also conflicted because everyone seems to be keeping track of everything this year.  I am so tired of people worrying about tit for tat.  I am getting so much joy out of actually using my imagination and buying actual presents rather than just giving gift cards this year, and it just chaps my ass when someone says something to the effect of "Don't buy me anything because I can't buy anything for you." or "I only got you..." or "You went over the limit."  It is not a competition, folks.  Let me have my fun!  GIVING makes my Christmas willy hard.

Something else that would give me Christmas wood?  Waking up tomorrow to find that Santa had left me a new follower or two.  Go on...press that little button over there and become one of the Beautifulist People I Know.  You know you want to DO IT.  

Lagniappe:

Procrastinate? Who, Me?

Holy crap on a stick!  Yesterday I was all blase' because there were DAYS until Christmas.  I even *looks around surreptitiously and whispers* took a nap.  What the hell was I thinking?  I don't even know how I managed to, given that I am generally unable to sleep in the daytime.  Truth?  I did not set foot outside of the houseboat yesterday other than to go to the end of my gangway to feed the ducks.  I got El Juevo to feed the cats and made him fend for himself foodwise, and I spent the whole day with the birds talking about boogers and practicing our synchronized flapping.  I also spent a fair amount of time on the internet doing research for this blog.  *snort*  Kinda funny how one thing leads to another.  Watch just one foot worship video on YouTube and you'll see what I mean.  The recommendations they send you!  *shakes head* Just what kind of kinky freak do they think I am?

*gives you the stinkeye*  Hey!  Who are you to judge?  You came here.  (Heh.  Yeah, I know.  I said it.)  

Anyway, the upshot is that I get to go brave the crowds once again.  I have one or two last minute gifts to pick up in addition to all of my carrot cake ingredients.  I also have to convince El Juevo to make his annual last minute pilgrimage to Walgreens (where he does ALL of his Christmas shopping) a day early, as I am going to be up to my eyeballs in chit tomorrow, and still have to finger out how to fit in a trip to Mobile to pick up my order from Fresh Market. Not to mention the turkey I have to stuff and roast and have at my sister-in-law's by dinnertime.  Ahh, the JOYS of the holidays!

Lagniappe:

B Freakin' R R R

What a difference a day makes.  I had the air conditioners running yesterday, and today the damn space heaters can't keep up.  This houseboat is drafty and has no insulation whatsoever.  I wish there was some way to shrink wrap it.  

*head thumps self*  There I go, wasting another wish!  The Innocent Bystander had a mate once who used to get onto him every time he said he wished something on the grounds that "What if you are only allotted a certain number of wishes and you just wasted one of them on that."  Now every time I start to wish something, I stop and think about whether or not it is wishworthy. Right now, about the only things that qualify as wishworthy would be the IB coming home, or me winning this contest.  (Be sure to click on the "product" and check out the LIFE SIZED VIEW!)  I only want to win because I think it would make a great conversation piece. (Heh.  Don't make me say it.) Frankly, that thing scares the chit outta me!  (Which is actually a whole 'nuther blog post.  Promise.)

Sure, I am wishing the Unit Innocent Bystander was here for the obvious reasons, but he takes care of a lot more things around here besides me.  In addition to his studly duties, he also HMFIC (surely I don't have to translate THAT) of:

Changing lightbulbs.  It has gotten progressively darker both here and at the house since election day.  I am not exactly sure why, but from the day we started dating, I quit changing lightbulbs.  Maybe because he is just so naturally closer to them than I am.  ^shrug^  I also convince myself that this is one of those wee ways I am helping the environment by using less electricity.  Aren't I noble?

Foot warming.  I was acutely aware when I woke up this morning to a 30 degree bedroom that I was ALONE in bed.  No matter where I put my tootsies, I encountered cold lonely sheets.  I miss having someone to snuggle with, especially when it's this cold.  And I DO reciprocate, so it is not like this is a purely selfish wish.  Really.

Carrying stuff.  Yes, I imagine it is sexist of me, but I like the guy to carry the heavy shit, and great googlymoogly, do we go through some heavy stuff.  Namely WATER.  Because of the fartwater situation, I go through several gallons of bottled water a day between the birds, coffee and cooking, not to mention the amount I drink.  He stocks me up before he leaves, but there is a limit to how stocked we can get, as this place barely has room for my shoes, much less pallets of water, and I am tired of toting it in a gallon at a time.  (Notice I did not complain about toting in BEER.)

Oooky stuff.  Part of the fine print in the marriage contract was that I am allowed to wipe anything on him at any time, and boy, do I manage to get stuff on me that needs wiping.  Yes, I almost always have a clean handkerchief on me at all times, but if I used that, it wouldn't be clean now, would it?  It is very convenient to merely turn toward him and grab his shirt when the birds lovingly crap on me or lovingly gak me up something.

The Good Morning Jesus song. It is supposed to be a dignified song of praise and worship, but lets face it.  I try, but I have no sense of rhythm.  I sing, and stomp around and clap, but if their lessons remain my responsibility, I'm going to have a bunch of birds flapping around like Steve Martin in The Jerk.  

I could go on, but I would only succeed in depressing myself, and despite the cold, it is a beautiful day out and I'm going to enjoy it.  I need to focus on things I can do, rather than things I can't.  And I need to focus on them before the sun goes down, cuz this last bulb is flickering!

Lagniappe:

Drama Free Post

As soon as I hit publish yesterday, a houseboat came around the bend in the river, but it kept on going. So far, no new neighbor. From what I understand, there is a houseboat that will have to be moved in order for the eighty footer to fit next to us, and the owner of that boat has been hard to locate.  If I was guessing, I would say they are HIDING, because I am sure they don't want to have to go through the process of moving, especially to move all of three or four hundred feet.  Just moving standoffs is a major pain in the ass, not to mention having to deal with the power company and the mechanics of the actual move itself.  In any case, there was no drama.

There was however, a wonderful surprise when I went to the house later to check the mail. When I pulled into the driveway, FIVE cats came running to greet me instead of the usual four. Back in September when we had a rash of floods from tropical systems, I had been flooded in here at the houseboat for a few days and my neighbor had been feeding the feral/stray cats that I have been supporting since we bought the house.  When I was finally able to get back to the house, Big Gray had gone missing, and he hadn't been seen since.  He has lost some weight and looks a little worse for the wear, but he is alive!  I feel vindicated, because I know El Juevo thought I was full of shit when I told him the cat was missing.  Our neighbor's cat had been hit by a car, and I know he thought Big Gray had been killed too, and that I was keeping it from him to keep him from grieving.  When I told him the cat was back, he looked at me like I'd told him little green men were at the door.  He jumped up and ran out onto the porch and I swear his knees buckled when he saw him.  Lazarus has risen, ya'll!

When I got back to the houseboat, I decided that I was going to follow up on my earlier urge (not THAT one) (but now that I'm thinking about it, if I DID fulfill that urge I'd prolly be able to write more clearly) (but you coulda prolly gone all day without knowing that, eh?) and take the boat up the river to commune with Mother Nature.  Which I did...  

...if by Mother Nature, you mean truckers.  I went up the river and sat under the interstate overpass and collected honks.  I am so easily entertained.  Did you know that eastbound truckers are 75% more likely to honk you than westbound truckers are?  Doesn't matter how I park the boat, for some reason, eastbound truckers are MUCH more generous with the honks. Just sayin'.

Today's lagniappe is just a short (unretouched) note from the Innocent Bystander that I had in my inbox when I got back from my boatride:

I have 4  MO-PO 's        mobile police   that are on here at Night guarding the me and the boat now that we are back at the dock.

i asked em' if they would be here Christmas night , and they said

  "YES We will Drink till dark."

 

 

          And then come here

 

          With Machine Guns

               

Send lawyers, guns and money

I just have a feeler that it is going to be one of those days.

As I was puttering around this morning, I noticed that there were patches of blue in the sky for the first time in a week or so, so I decided that today would be an outside day.  I had big intentions of taking a boat ride up the river and getting back to nature, but evidently nature has other plans.  In the last hour it has clouded back up and gotten gloomy again, and the air is beginning to have a damp feel to it.  I still may get a wild hair up my arse.  Depends on how things play out around here.

The first couple of years that I lived out here, there was kind of a cycle.  During the summers, the place just sort of sang with activity-kids splashing and playing in the river, boat motors, three or four country music stations vying for supremacy, and sun and alcohol soaked mothers screeching at the top of their lungs for their children to "Stop hitting him" and "Dammit, I said get out of that water and come up here and EAT" and "I TOLD you to stop hitting him" and "HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STOP HITTING HIM!?!"  The winters were different though.  For the most part, I was the only one out here.  If I heard anything, it was the sound of birds on their way to someplace warm, or wind whistling up from under the houseboat through the cracks in the floorboards.  Houseboats were camps to most people around here, not homes.  If they came out at all during the winter, it was usually just older men bent on fishing.  Nice and quiet and peaceful.

I guess it is a sign of the times that that has all changed.  This year, every single houseboat on this side of the Shingle Mill is occupied.  I wish I could say their owners had all realized what a winter paradise this river actually is and had decided to ride it out, but sadly, I can't.  It seems that almost all of them have been rented out, some with different tenants every week or so. YAY.  Not just renters, but TRANSIENT renters!  The words "It's the economy, stupid" keep running through my brain.  

Most of these new neighbors are PARTY PEOPLE.  And today, my friends, is Turkey Shoot day. So far, we have party people, guns and beer (the beer is a given-where there are party people, there is beer).  Now, add to that that I just found out that there will probably be a new 80' long houseboat (new to the 'hood, not a 'new' houseboat) being moved in today RIGHT NEXT TO MINE.  Do you get the picture?  Do you understand how many EXPERT ENGINEERS under the influence of alcohol and armed with guns are going to be guiding this monstrosity in?  I'm torn. I don't know if I want to stay and be a witness, or if I want to get the hell out of Dodge and hope my home is still here when I get back.  And I have to wonder what is going to be parked next to me when I return if I do go.  The Innocent Bystander is going to jump up and down and shit popcorn if he comes home to something like this:

Lagniappe:

Seasonal Affective Disorder

Nemo keeps asking me, "What are you doing?" 

Like he doesn't know what I'm doing.  I'm cleaning up your POOP, numbnuts.  I am scraping it off the bars of your cage.  I am sucking up your feathers.  I am 'gimme that beak'ing you.  I am scrubbing grape peels and raspberry carcasses off the walls and windows and washer.

Feathers, by the way?  *shakes head*  They suck.  You think of feathers and the image of a single feather comes to mind, drifting lazily in a shaft of sunlight.  What you don't think about are the layers and layers of them that exist under the top 'classic' feather layers.  Each layer gets progressively smaller-I think some of them are even microscopic.  And every time we do the Good Morning Jesus song and they all start to flapping, I am stomping and clapping in a virtual cloud.  It doesn't matter how much I sweep and vacuum and mop-I could have Dirt Devils permanently attached  to the ends of my arms like some sort of weird Edward Sissorhands (is that an oxymoron, or what?) and I still wouldn't be able to keep up with them.  They sift into every little corner and crevice only to come flying out the next time someone flaps.  They are driving me INSANE.

I just feel BLAH.  I'm thinking it is a combination of the weather, which has been drizzly and overcast for days, and the landscape around here, which looks like something out of a gothic movie with all the spindly barren trees dripping with spanish moss.  Variations on a theme, and the theme is GRAY.  I guess the only sensible thing to do would be to get out of the houseboat. I need to go light a fire under El Juevo's arse because I'm sure he is still where I left him yesterday, on the couch in his underwear with his laptop on one side of him and a remote on the other.  I think we both need some exercise, and I know just the mall to get it in. (Heh.  I said get it.)  Am I getting too predictable?

Lagniappe:

Directions: 1. Peel off adhesive and stick Subtle Butt onto the inside of your underwear or pants, exactly where you think it goes.
2. Go for it, Let'er rip, Have at it, Cut loose, Break wind, Gas it up
3. When you're done wearing Subtle Butt, remove and discard. If any adhesive traces remain, use a damp cloth for removal.

Tips for Success:

1. You want all the gas to pass through Subtle Butt. So do what you need to do to ensure none sneaks around the edges.
2. Subtle Butt can be applied to thongs by wrapping and securing it around the back.