Monthly Archive for October, 2009

Big Day at the Rancho de Howler: Should be living in Mobile.

  • Bulbous decided that she is just sick and tired of blowing her nose in the morning. We have concluded she needs a nose catheter. I’m thinking we could adapt her CPAP hose and mask for the purpose.
  • I just need to get an electricial engineer to reverse the polarity on the Continuous Positive Air Pressure pump so it blows. It already sucks. Or so it sucks, because it already blows. It blows so it sucks.

Since the therm-o-meter is touching the zone of freezing, 30-35 degrees, I’m thinking this would be a handy gizmo for myownself too.

  • I drove yesterday! Nancy had hauled me around in the backseat of the wagon, but I surprised her one day by getting in the front seat of the Smart. Which was actually very easy. Once I got in, I could use the cane as a lever to lift my leg into a comfortable place.
    But getting into the driver’s side of the Magnum required sheer genius (or as close as I will ever get.)
    The-rapist is having a terrible time getting my Total Knee Replacement (ta-da-dummmmmmm) to bend. Folding it to get past the door jamb is a problem.
    Was a problem.
    I put the seat back down all the way, slud my slimmed down buttocks on the seat and up the seat back so I could swing my foot inside. Bingo.
    We celebrated by going to El Mazatlan.
    I didn’t use the cane
    I drove.
    And then I walked.
  • I can now lift my leg unassisted. It’s just been Day Ten. This came after a massage of my Total Knee Replacement (ta-da-dummm) and my quadriceps. My quad was Tasered for ten seconds every minute for ten minutes. I think this was the key: electro-shock therapy on my leg.  I was sitting in the recliner last night and boinnnnggggg up it came (my leg.) goosestep Now I need to find a way to get it to return to normal position.
  • Next up, a ride to Nashvegas this afternoon for the performance of Little House on the Prairie starring Melissa Gilbert as Ma. That makes me feel old enough that I may take the walker!

Total Knee Replacement: What They Forgot to Tell Me

I sniffed that Total Knee Replacement (ta-da-dummmmmm) surgery was a piece of cake.

What they forgot to tell me that rehab is a bitch.

rehab

Need a Halloween costume and want to appear as a soulless, wicked, purveyor of pain and suffering? Borrow a rehab therapists name tag.

Owie.

Geeky Animated Gif Monday Joker Celebrates Mother Clap

Joker

Joker

Didja know that there was a Mother Clap that ran a hooker house for gay boys in London in the 1700s? Mother Margaret Clap ran a “Molly House.” If this ever shows up on the NYT Crossword, you’re welcome.

Oh Yeah? Well I Was There for the Original Halloween! Sunday Lying to Go With Sunday Stealing


Cheers to all us thieves! gross doctors! sexy nurses! and toga-wearers!

Sunday Stealing: The Halloween Meme

1. What is your favorite written work of horror fiction?
Lord of the Flies

2. What is your favorite work of science fiction/fantasy?
I liked Twilight Zone, Star Trek, the TeeVee show with Robbie the Robot (Danger Will Robinson) and that kind of stuff. X-Files had some great episodes too.

Will Robinson

Will Robinson

3. Who is your favorite monster?
Scully from Monsters, Inc.

4. What is your favorite Horror movie?
Poltergeist

5. What horror movie gives you the most chills?
Poltergeist, fright chills and sexy chills seeing JoBeth Williams roll around the room in a shortie nightgown shrieking.

6. What character from any horror film would you most like to play?
Hunchback of Notre Dame

7. Freddy or Jason?
I’m not really sure I have seen their backstory to pass judgment.

8. What is your favorite Halloween treat?
Mini Tootsie Rolls

9. Ghosts or goblins?
Ghosts, because they are real, silly.

10. Friendly-faced jack-o’-lantern or scary one?
Scary, but even my attempts at friendly ones are scary, looking like Cousin Billy Sam without her dentures.

11. What is your scariest encounter with the paranormal?
I have the Curse of the Skeptic, so I have had no encounters that have left me impressed. We have tried: Area 51, New Orleans Haunted tours, Vortexes (Vortices?) in AZ, Europo Weekend for The Unimpressed. I’m thinking the hot tent in Sedona is my best shot for my paranormal encounter.

12. Do you believe in ghosts? Why or why not?
Yes, because it’s fun to believe.

13. Would you rather be a zombie, alien, or psycho?
ZAP! Zombie Alien, Psycho!

I would choose Roomba, move mysteriously around seemingly doing nothing only to reveal I was collecting samples for later analysis.

14. Favorite Halloween costume?
Back in the 80s during gas crisis a friend came to a party with a sheet wrapped around his head and body, a necktie around his forehead, carrying a gas can. It was so clever, simple and timely.

15. Best thing about Halloween?
Candy

16. Person in your family who most likes Halloween (not counting yourself)?
Nancy

17. Are you superstitious?
No, not at all

18. Share an unusual Halloween story.
I have a usual life. I have no unusual stories.
Here’s a boring recollection. I was about eight years old, Trick-eyore-Treating and we found a trail of candy! We followed it and it went for many many houses. This wasn’t a trail like Little Black Sambo left to find the Haunted Mansion, this was a piece of candy every few inches for hundreds of feet. It was heaven, until we discovered that I had been dragging my paper sack on the ground because it was so heavy and the candy was coming out the bottom of my Tricky-eyore-Treat bag.

19. What did you do for Halloween as a kid?
All of it, including vandalism.

20. What’s the best Halloween party that you’ve attended?
The Jaycees put on a Haunted House a couple decades ago and Nancy and I helped decorate and freaked out the kids. The Haunted House was on the second floor of an old office building, so the entrance was up a narrow hallway. People had to wait in the dark hallway and most had worked themselves up for a good scare.
After reaching doorway, everyone had to crawl through a maze of hay bales. A touch here and there would cause screams and screams begat screams.
We had learned that being startled unexpectedly was much more effective than elaborate dioramas to gross people out attempted by the other couples. We put the least work in and had the most fun.

Thanks to a C.O.B. (Crusty Old Bitch) the H.O.A. Audit Was Perfect.

Bodacious Boomer mentioned her living conditions many of us have endured. The existence of a Home Owner’s Association (HOA – pronounced ho-ah, like some one from Boston would call a whore. Ho-ah) Usually every HOA had at least one Benita:

She’d actually park her car in front of each house and sit there with a clipboard noting the most miniscule things that she could report. Had one of the numbers fallen off your mailbox? Were the blades of grass in your lawn not all facing the same direction? I slept soundly at night, always safe in the knowledge that these most vital issues of life would soon be addressed by her in a memo I’d receive.

Davis mentions the underlying premise behind Home Owner’s Association.

They say that good fences make good neighbors. Since the restrictive covenants in our particular subdivision forbid the installation of “fences, barriers or similarly containing obstructions,” we have lousy neighbors.

HOA’s were new to Smallburg when we moved here in 1993. We moved into the first HOA, which legally the city referred to as a PUD. Planned Unit Development. We had the only single family detached home of the group, the rest were two homes that shared a common wall. Thus to everyone in else in town, we lived in “The Condos.”

The Home Owner’s Association had written bylaws, covenants and restrictions. Limits on how many cars in the driveway, planting and painting and exterior renovations had to be approved, HOA mowed the yards, trimmed shrubs, replaced shrubs and flowers, etc. etc. Good stuff, stuff that every reasonable homeowner would want respected.

Naturally, only four out of about a hundred homeowners attended the quarterly business meetings. I got involved and when the HOA couldn’t afford to pay the lawn service because, god forbid, the dues hadn’t kept pace with inflation, I offered my services as “manager” of the association. Not President.

If I was going to take the shit from residents that I knew was headed my way, I was going to get paid. $15 per unit per month, payable quarterly, for a year.

Deal? Deal – nobody else wanted the job as President because it was obvious the Home Owner’s Association was going broke the following year if things remained the same.

The-Wizard-of-Oz

Deal. Jayne Freeman, the Benita of the HOA, just couldn’t stand it that I was actually going to get paid when others had done it for nothing.  It just frosted her wrinkled, crusty, menopausal ass.

I made a contract with duties spelled out for the board of directors for a one year deal, renewable for three. We inked the deal. She was apoplectic.

Jayne had her following, so you can imagine the Benita-like spears thrown at me all year long. But I reported to the board faithfully every quarter along with a list off bills to be paid, (checks had to be signed by two board members – I was not one) upcoming income, anticipated expenses, etc. etc.

I negotiated a new deal with a lawn service, saving more than my compensation, renegotiated some other contracts and we ended up at the end with a surplus.

They fired me at the end of my first year.

Jayne Freeman demanded in writing that an audit be conducted ($800) which had never been done before.

Thanks to Jayne Freeman, I knew every single dime would have massive scrutiny. So I was meticulous in my record-keeping and reporting.

The accountant who did the audit was giddy at the thought of taking about thirty invoices, some deposit slips and a check book for an audit and get paid $800.

I should have sued Jayne Freeman for defamation, but as you can imagine, we had pretty much had our fill of her and her lies and accusations. We sold and moved.  The following year, there were no candidates for any board office that needed to be filled. Jayne Freeman took over.  Within a year, lawn services had been severely reduced and the majority of the homes in the HOA are now occupied by renters.

All the things that Jayne couldn’t tolerate when I managed for the HOA are now happening – and at a higher cost per unit.

Jayne Freeman no longer lives in the PUD. The Crust Old Bitch has dragged her ass out of there. I think a house fell on her sister and she moved in.

I hope she dies soon.