See more of Jason Jacenko here.
05 August 2009
31 July 2009
Awwww... here we go
I don't like the Snuggie - think it is ridiculous. I don't care how comfortable
some people think they are. Use a blanket or wear a robe. If it is so cold in your home that you can't reach from under the blanket without fear of your hand freezing to death for those 5 seconds, you really need to stop going to so many expensive dinner places, stop putting 37" rims on that SUV that is about to be repossessed and save some money for your heat bill.
As though that invention didn't irk me enough last winter, now there is a Snuggie for dogs. My sister gave me the heads up and you can click here to see video on the Snuggie for Dogs.
As though people need more outfits to dress their dogs up in. And more reason to get a dog carrying case that matches their Gucci/Prada purses. I guess now the owner can dress in matching Snuggies with their dog. Hopefully when the dog wears its own gown-blanket, it won't look like it is being choked -- see woman in the picture.
some people think they are. Use a blanket or wear a robe. If it is so cold in your home that you can't reach from under the blanket without fear of your hand freezing to death for those 5 seconds, you really need to stop going to so many expensive dinner places, stop putting 37" rims on that SUV that is about to be repossessed and save some money for your heat bill.As though that invention didn't irk me enough last winter, now there is a Snuggie for dogs. My sister gave me the heads up and you can click here to see video on the Snuggie for Dogs.
As though people need more outfits to dress their dogs up in. And more reason to get a dog carrying case that matches their Gucci/Prada purses. I guess now the owner can dress in matching Snuggies with their dog. Hopefully when the dog wears its own gown-blanket, it won't look like it is being choked -- see woman in the picture.
30 July 2009
This is war, and I will take prisoners
Who the F&%$ is this, waking me at 3:46 in the morning, crack of dawning, now I'm yawning.
That remake was what I was saying to myself this morning as my bedroom door was opened by my man and he switched on the light saying that there was a mouse in the house.
Of course I got up. Didn't really know what to do. I stood on the bed for about five minutes as he continued to look around the house with a broom as though it was an AK he could kill the critter with. I started moving things away from the walls so I could see it moving about; I put on some shoes (first shaking them out in case they were in there); I grabbed another broom so I could feel armed as well.
We went into the kitchen and I started throwing stuff away and cleaning out the drawers in case it went in any of those, or had a craving for stale crackers, nearly empty cans of Raid, or warranties of a broken dishwasher.
As I am cleaning and he is looking in the basement for me, the little Mickey ran under the broken dishwasher. Fortunately, or not, the last guy who came to try and work on it had removed the face plate from the bottom of the machine, so the mouse ran right under. I could use the flashlight and watch it move.
I had to make sure that the counters are flush with the walls so
that it would not crawl back there, get in some drawers, or run to the other parts of the large spacious kitchen. Fortunately they are flush.
Every so often the little thing would peak its head out from under the dishwasher, see us with our weapons, and dart back under.
I had him stand guard as I went to Walgreens to get some sort of mouse killer (sorry to you animal lovers, but I don't like these things in my home). Got back with some traps, but none of that sticky stuff, which I figured would catch this thing best.
I built a makeshift tunnel from the dishwasher to the door in the kitchen using all the old teacher-binders and teacher's edition textbooks (thank you UbD and Social Justice Advocacy for the duplicate binders that I have yet to throw away for some reason). The pathway was great. Reached the door with no openings for the mouse to sneak through.
We waited for it to come back out.
And it did.
But not through the tunnel.
It came out the side right by the dishwasher/tunnel connection spot.
Now I'm starting to feel like I am the secretary of defense having to map out my strategy and weaponry.
This. Is. War.
I leave for another run. Gas stations have nothing, so I head to Home Depot. By now it is 6:40, but they are fortunately open. I find the products I need -- gummy pads and some poisonous bait. As I head to the checkout line, I have three men walking toward me (not together) who for some reason think this is the perfect time for them to hit on me. "Damn, you sure are sexy." "Can I help you with your problem, Miss Fine Thang?" Whistles, and more. It is too early for this. And I look like shit. It is early, I am stressed, and I probably have some serious morning breath.
When I get to the self-checkout line, another man comes at me asking if he can get my number so he can give me a call and get me his cat. I take Joseph's number and rush out.
Get home and place the sticky pads in front of and underneath the dishwasher.
At one point, I decide to take a break from my vigil and take out the trash.
Walk it around to trash bin on the side of the house and what is waiting for me there?
No, not the mouse. My local Jehovah's Witnesses.
They have been coming around for about a year. I haven't answered the door for about 8 months. They got me. They were truly excited to see me after all this time. Wanted to talk about the issues going on with race in society and how it ties to their recent Awake! and Watchtower pamphlets and what the good book says. I politely listen for awhile. Then point toward the back and tell them I am doing some work. They look at my roses in the front of the house and start admiring them. Thank you. But I really need to be getting back.
My hands are shaking for fear that the mouse has escaped and gone through the house.
I am still sitting vigil.
Waiting for this thing to come out, feed on the poison, get stuck in the goo, or get smashed by my broom.
Can't wait until it is done so I can rest easy.
As Bob Marley said:
That until that day
The dream of lasting peace, world citizenship
Rule of international morality
Will remain in but a fleeting illusion
To be persued, but never attained
Now everywhere is war, war
That remake was what I was saying to myself this morning as my bedroom door was opened by my man and he switched on the light saying that there was a mouse in the house.
Of course I got up. Didn't really know what to do. I stood on the bed for about five minutes as he continued to look around the house with a broom as though it was an AK he could kill the critter with. I started moving things away from the walls so I could see it moving about; I put on some shoes (first shaking them out in case they were in there); I grabbed another broom so I could feel armed as well.
We went into the kitchen and I started throwing stuff away and cleaning out the drawers in case it went in any of those, or had a craving for stale crackers, nearly empty cans of Raid, or warranties of a broken dishwasher.
As I am cleaning and he is looking in the basement for me, the little Mickey ran under the broken dishwasher. Fortunately, or not, the last guy who came to try and work on it had removed the face plate from the bottom of the machine, so the mouse ran right under. I could use the flashlight and watch it move.
I had to make sure that the counters are flush with the walls so
that it would not crawl back there, get in some drawers, or run to the other parts of the large spacious kitchen. Fortunately they are flush.Every so often the little thing would peak its head out from under the dishwasher, see us with our weapons, and dart back under.
I had him stand guard as I went to Walgreens to get some sort of mouse killer (sorry to you animal lovers, but I don't like these things in my home). Got back with some traps, but none of that sticky stuff, which I figured would catch this thing best.
I built a makeshift tunnel from the dishwasher to the door in the kitchen using all the old teacher-binders and teacher's edition textbooks (thank you UbD and Social Justice Advocacy for the duplicate binders that I have yet to throw away for some reason). The pathway was great. Reached the door with no openings for the mouse to sneak through.
We waited for it to come back out.
And it did.
But not through the tunnel.
It came out the side right by the dishwasher/tunnel connection spot.
Now I'm starting to feel like I am the secretary of defense having to map out my strategy and weaponry.
This. Is. War.
I leave for another run. Gas stations have nothing, so I head to Home Depot. By now it is 6:40, but they are fortunately open. I find the products I need -- gummy pads and some poisonous bait. As I head to the checkout line, I have three men walking toward me (not together) who for some reason think this is the perfect time for them to hit on me. "Damn, you sure are sexy." "Can I help you with your problem, Miss Fine Thang?" Whistles, and more. It is too early for this. And I look like shit. It is early, I am stressed, and I probably have some serious morning breath.
When I get to the self-checkout line, another man comes at me asking if he can get my number so he can give me a call and get me his cat. I take Joseph's number and rush out.
Get home and place the sticky pads in front of and underneath the dishwasher.
At one point, I decide to take a break from my vigil and take out the trash.
Walk it around to trash bin on the side of the house and what is waiting for me there?
No, not the mouse. My local Jehovah's Witnesses.
They have been coming around for about a year. I haven't answered the door for about 8 months. They got me. They were truly excited to see me after all this time. Wanted to talk about the issues going on with race in society and how it ties to their recent Awake! and Watchtower pamphlets and what the good book says. I politely listen for awhile. Then point toward the back and tell them I am doing some work. They look at my roses in the front of the house and start admiring them. Thank you. But I really need to be getting back.
My hands are shaking for fear that the mouse has escaped and gone through the house.
I am still sitting vigil.
Waiting for this thing to come out, feed on the poison, get stuck in the goo, or get smashed by my broom.
Can't wait until it is done so I can rest easy.
As Bob Marley said:
That until that day
The dream of lasting peace, world citizenship
Rule of international morality
Will remain in but a fleeting illusion
To be persued, but never attained
Now everywhere is war, war
29 July 2009
Depression shouldn't lead to dismemberment
I don't watch the news much anymore. I heard about this case through Kid Sis #2 who lives in Texas.
This is truly crazy. The woman dismembered her kid, ate part of his brain, and chewed off some of his phalanges. WTF?
This is beyond insanity.
It has apparently been pretty normal that women who kill their kids there get off with the insanity plea.
If she gets off on some sort of postpartum depression deal, I will be even more disgusted than I already am about this case. Read a little bit more on the Otty Sanchez case here.
This is truly crazy. The woman dismembered her kid, ate part of his brain, and chewed off some of his phalanges. WTF?
This is beyond insanity.
It has apparently been pretty normal that women who kill their kids there get off with the insanity plea.
If she gets off on some sort of postpartum depression deal, I will be even more disgusted than I already am about this case. Read a little bit more on the Otty Sanchez case here.
Wordless Wednesday: Beautiful images of women/girls
Going back to showcasing some cool art for Wordless Wednesday.
Some beautiful images of women/girls from various artists.
Hi Fructose / cinderella_web
Olga Ert
Tiger's Eye / Mark Sarmel
Amy Sol
Lyubov Dubina
PoorSailor
L Filipe dos Santos
Jinyoung Shin
Some beautiful images of women/girls from various artists.
Hi Fructose / cinderella_web
Olga Ert
Tiger's Eye / Mark Sarmel
Amy Sol
Lyubov Dubina
PoorSailor
L Filipe dos Santos
Jinyoung Shin
24 July 2009
Yo homeboy, I said yo homeboy
The past few days have been filled with the good, the bad, and the ugly.
The Good:
Only in my case, it seems as though everyone else is trying to figure out how to get mo' money, mo' money, mo' money from me.
The Good:
- My post on the All-Star Game was chosen as the "Local Blog o' the Week" for the local newspaper the Riverfront Times. I guess I'm almost-semi-locally-acknowledged. If you haven't read it and wish to know my views on baseball, check out my point of view on the All-Star Game here. I guess I am one of a very few bunch of people who can be called "baseball-hating". I don't apologize. Thanks to whoever nominated me as well as to the RFT people for picking me.
- Weather has been nice, which means I am saving money by not running the AC.
- This year of work, I have been able to limit my spending and save a significant amount more money than I have ever saved before.
- The basement floor leaks. I should not really be too surprised since leakages seem to follow me the past few places I have lived, click to see the stories of water past.
- Even though I have saved money on AC, I am having to shove out ridiculous amounts on fixing the basement leak. This house is basically a brand new rehab, but I guess the contractor and constructors of the place were relapsing when they built it because the basement is shit. Concrete is so thin, that when the waterproofers started to demo to put their system in, they reached dirt in less than an inch. That explains the leakage.
- Dishwasher is also broken and leaking onto the floor during the wash cycle. So I have to get a new one of those. Didn't ever use it when I first got here; I have only used it about 5 times in the past year (really 3 months).
- Not only is the basement leaking and I have to pay for that, but the home builders did not have a footer on this house so I have to pay extra for the waterproofing system people to use a different technique than they normally would.
- Then today as the waterproofers took a break from listening to and singing along with Hart, Lisa Loeb, and Mötley Crüe, the foreman came up and informed me that the sump pump is not functional. Explains why the water was not draining.
- The money I was able to save is going to be almost completely gone after this.
- I don't get paid again until the end of August. Good luck to me.
Only in my case, it seems as though everyone else is trying to figure out how to get mo' money, mo' money, mo' money from me.
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