Whilst writing my last TL;DR post, an expected contender for the Wingnut Warrior trophy made his play, and a strong one, Louie's going for broke. For our audience at home, we will say that with this all-in strategy, he better be careful, if one of the distinguished gentlemen of the republican party in a flail fight tries to match his bid, Mr. Gohmert will have to go very far afield to top this. He's got a reputation as a banger, and is clearly dissociative, but this one is stone fucking out there:
Minds out of the gutter, bitches. I'm aaallllll about teh morals. Just a few things accumulated that did not really fit anywhere. Dear Texas, (Oh, and how many of those 117,000 secession signatures, at last count, are from "motherdaughterauntgrannielovingpatriot, Lubbock by-God Texas" ?)
Love, democracy -------------------- Back from Halloween, my sis-in-law's SO is a big Wonder Woman fan, so much that my SIL got a Wonder Woman act for her birthday (and I f'in missed it, work, buggrit...) So, for Halloween, their puppy became
Also, I need a dog. Preferably now. Still ain't'nt quite ready, but soon.....
--------------------
It is imperative that I find someone worthy of this.
One problem, it's a touch spendy for what is, in effect, a somewhat-more-useful-than-usual gag gift. P'raps my dad? No, he's fairly straight-laced, actually, loosening up a tad in retirement, but this might be a touch too far, not that he'd get mad, but he'd be embarrased, don't want to do that to him. My Sweetie already threatens to get him Viking stuff every Christmas - that would cause serious madface. My father -in-law would get the joke and have fun with it, except that it would quickly disappear into his mighty Wall-Of-Camping-Totes as the coolest camping accessory ever, which is fine, but he'd take some of the fun out of it. Serious camper, that dude.
Yesterday, so
called “Black Friday”, a bukkake orgy of consumeristic stuff.
About
mid-morning, as I finished my appointment to replace my truck window, Sweetie,
being a lovely, kind, and savagely impatient woman, requested I do her a favor,
given my proximity to one of the many malls in the Cities. Not the Mall of
America, it would have been a short conversation, but one of the larger, somewhat
more upscale malls. I adore my wife, and wish to make her happy, and this
seemed reasonable. My train of thought being, ‘well, it’s noon, all the people
who started shopping last night at 8 pm have hopefully had their heads pop,
like a blueberry in a rotisserie oven, due to the shame of destroying someone’s
Thanksgiving so that WalMart/Target/Kohl’s/Macy’s/Billy-Bob’s House Of Live Hamsters
could make a couple extra bucks’.* Although I do not handle crowds well, and
have in fact, over time, gotten worse at being in crowds, I thought I could
deal.
In short,
zoo. In short as well, holy dammit.
I couldn’t
deal. Not a damn bit. In all seriousness, a fairly short exposure destroyed me
physically and mentally for several hours. I was shaking. I had stomach acid
that could etch stainless steel, giving me an idea for another career, but as
creating such an abrasive was not, ultimately, as pleasant as many things,
including repeated blows to the melon, I felt it to be an unsustainable path.
It was an experience I shall not repeat, save under extraordinary
circumstances, and then I’m bringing a cattle prod.
I did
complete my mission, and now with some distance, have a few things to say.
I adore
Christmas. I love Christmas. I am the spirit of Christmas, it is my favorite
holiday. I love to give gifts. Not going to claim any particular hypocrisy, I
love receiving gifts as well, but I stone get off on giving gifts. As much as
people in general annoy me, especially mindless mobs, I would take a bullet for
a friend and I like to show my appreciation and I love to give stuff. I
understand the ‘mission to buy stuff’, it’s part of the whole ‘giving’ gig. I
love to make my wife happy, makes me all warm and glowwy, and fortunately, she
is very good at picking out/up the stuff I give her –
- sorry honey
kidding yes I’ll be in the garage –
- and I love
seeing her smile. So I get it. But I want to endorse an idea.
One gift, one
good gift, for your loved ones. Good does not necessarily equate money, by the
way, good equates to cool, heartfelt, smile-causing. Good equals putting some
damn thought into it, if your child shows logic skills, get a Snakes And
Ladders game, something you can do with your kid, rather than this year’s
Torture-Your-Uncle-The-Geologist Barney or whatever the latest fad is. Fuck
that shit, live like people, people.
I know this
is nothing new, just my two cents, and I am very much a liberal,
War-On-Christmas-What-Would-Jesus-Buy, let’s put some awesome sauce into the
season rather than blind consumerism, type.
Note: These two cents have not been
endorsed by any major religions. Pat Robertson/Jerry Falwell/Saint Sarah, teh
Virgin Of Wasilla say, “Buy, bitchez!”
The economy,
while oh-so-painfully slowly growing**, is still poor, meaning that I feel safe
guessing much of yesterday’s ejaculations were caused by the rubbing of plastic
against laser scanner. Credit, by
definition and design, is suxxors.*** C’mon people. Seriously?
A Plausible Pile Of Positivity
Now, since
this is the beginning of the Christmas season, I am listening to the 24hr Xmas
radio. Love it, honestly, I’m a real bug for Christmas, LOVE IT. I want to share
a couple favorites. The first two, well, let’s face it, I is a weirdo.
Love Scully
and Mulder…
TAP! TAP!
TAP! TAP!
Patton Oswalt
does the best deconstruction of yesterdays bullshit possible…
I debated
including this, due to my enormous machoness, but I assure, I love this song un-ironically,
proof, that as wildly annoying Mariah Carey is, she has occasionally shown a
bit of talent, and the association with ‘Love, Actually’, a movie that I also love un-ironically, don’t hurt…
Now, I did notice, and will not post proof because my eyes will bleed, that there are now remakes of the most insipid Xmas song ever, one by the wildly entertaining (in life if not at all in the musical world) George Michael, thrill junkie/idjit extraordinaire, 'Last Christmas'. Life ain't'nt totally perfect...
It's Christmas season! W00t!!1!!!
*Seriously, y’all
are Satan. Suck a tailpipe.
**Which
brings another thingy this holiday season to be thankful for, that the Lords Of
Kolob decided that Willard Romney is to serve a greater purpose, arising with
Transformer Jesus****
in teh Last Days, thereby saving us from 4 years of the thorough eradication of
the working class in this country so that Billy-Bob, of House Of Live Hamsters
Fame, can build a car elevator on his estate next to those Walton scamps.
***Credit
card companies? Also Satan. Gonna need a bunch of tailpipes, or all y’all gotta
share.
****If you’ve
been exposed to the sheer IT’S ALWAYS PROJECTION lunacy of the Left Behind
books, read Fred Clark’s (Slacktivist) fisking of it. Well worth the time to
drop down the rabbit hole.
Please don't consider the apparent crabbiness of the post title to be more than merely a manifestation of my real crabbiness about the basement remodel.
I have come to hate: Basements Contractors Finish work Electricity The concept and definition of 'underground' The bathroom work continues apace, slowly, painfully taking shape. Looking at this picture, you would take the floor tile to be textured, and you would be very right, a very rough faced floor tile - my theory being that a rough surface is less slippery after vigorous shower intercour - when wet.
A couple notes regarding Thanksgiving dinner - 'twas mighty, the brisket was perfect, just a hint of brewed goodness to it, peeled apart like a Faberge Egg hit with a small grenade. The scalloped potatoes were fine, just fine, maybe could have used 5 - 10 more minutes, most of the potatoes were lovely, a few could have used a little more time. Holupser, not nearly in my mother's league, but looking to move up (the sauerkraut from a crunchy grocery store near me called Bob's Produce Ranch). Sweetie's salad was her usual perfection, life is good!
Arrangements are made to repair teh truck window tomorrow, and the sleet this afternoon (I didn't mention the sleet yet - forecast was for 55degF and windy, we had sleet, confirming again that I picked the wrong career - TV weathermen are clearly on enough acid to reproduce the collected works of Umberto Eco from memory) was brief, and Sweetie had me white trash my missing window before it arrived,. Life is still peachy! Happy Thanksgiving y'all! PS: Also, three cocktails, and bringing in teh Christmas boxes don't hurt none...
Got the Replacements on teh stereo (well, sort of a stereo, sort of a cobble job, really, but wait until the basement! he cries to the winds. Ehh, see the Remodel post later today...), a rather feckin' huge coffee, and something dead in the oven. Thanksgiving morning. We are going significantly less traditional this year, starting with not going anywhere. Sweetie and I are chillaxing, my Bro-In-Law will be here for the meal but then working, and I suspect there will be a cocktail - OH WAIT! It's the time of year to call it a toddy! OH WAIT! It's bleedin' 55degF today, end of November! - cocktail or two, too, also, for me and my Babe! In the oven right now is brisket, being slow-cooked in Cygnus X-1 Porter, from the Flat Earth Brewing Co. in St. Paul. I spoke to a few people about how to do this, one of the best chefs I know suggested actually Lambic, Kriek or Raspberry (Sweetie just woke up, and looks like the cocktail is needed -
"No, I'm kidding, honey, and make me one too"
- looks gorgeous and I'm very lucky.),
but while I'm a competent cook, I ain't'nt necessarily inclined to experiment today. In about an hour I haz potatoes to slice and green onions to saute for scalloped potatoes, than the saute-ing of bacon and onions for holupser, a sort of german cabbage roll, made by my mother throughout my life for special occasions. However, her substantially less culinarily instinctual son can't make cabbage rolls to save his life, so I make it as a casserole, rice, bacon, onions, and sauerkraut. Sweetie is making a tomato, cucumber, and mozzarella salad. We have, by virtue of employment, several turkeys in the freezer, but with just the three of us, and my loathing of next day turkey, unless and until I get a jerky maker, we are not going full tryptophan this year.
You never go full tryptophan.
1 + hour pause... Sweetie requested I go to the store for a paper and MN Raffle ticket. No, to my knowledge they are not actually raffling off Minnesota, otherwise someone might win it and want to develop it - professional football team, road not causing kidney damage. The pause should not have been 1 full hour, but when I went out to my truck, it was suspiciously fresh smelling and cool. At that point I noticed the smashed window and missing stuff. Had to be kids on a smash and grab, they just grabbed out of the front seat, where I had nothing, save my lunchbox with my diabetic tester, so there is a trip to Walgreens on the plate tomorrow (today was already anticipated to be blood sugar doom). Nothing of value is gone, I had cleaned it out last week, but quite the annoyance. They missed the garage door opener, thank FSM, the garage is loaded due to basement. Guess I have to give some thanks that it is largely an annoyance instead of a disaster. Life is good, much to be happy about and stuff, I'll deal with the damn truck, and enjoy the day. No Packers, Badgers, or Huskers today, but wevs! A day with Sweetie is all good. Must saute. Ta, all! PS: I also give thanks that that Willard teh Windsock is celebrating Kolobs-giving at one of his homes as opposed to planning for a first term.
Made it! In a mere 15 hours, whilst neglecting to beat the living bejabbers out of, really, everyone in sight, we significantly redid our power harness. We had and solved issues, some creative wiring including a surprise disconnecting means circuit in a switchboard we was not anticipating, I had my issues, occasional anger at some points when I felt I was being bigfooted out of my project, (bigfooted hell, I had shoe treads on my forehead), and given time constraints, with everyone already stressed, I was not a ray of german sunshine. But everything got done and utility restored 13 minutes ahead of timetable, and although I wasn't about to got to IHOP with everyone because
Self Portrait, 11am
and because IHOP, but also because I was trying to listen to the start of the Packers game and near as I could tell it was being broadcast in Japanese and I felt it imperative that I go teh fuck to bed.
But it's done, it's done, bosses are happy, I think I looked good, well, okay, just before review time (blech), I'm at work again watching sparkys do demo and genuinely intending not to do shit until it is time to go home for a well-earned 5 days off...
...trimming out the basement. And drinking. Well, not, actually, but yeah. Don't know, I'm considering it...
Coda: Well, one part of the project, which was somewhat feckin' ridiculously undersold to us (a monitoring system retrofit) and left something to be desired, like planning or workability or accurate estimates to perform installation or vendor reps who stayed awake (there will be phone calls that I'll miss, which makes me sadface, pppbbllfftt) got the plug pulled at about 75% completion, and we won't be doing this shutdown again for a couple years. Not necessarily part of my scope of project, but I got caught in the backwash, but it's past, and my direct supervisor was present and knows teh score...
Not the basement remodel, which has bogged down some, not in minutiae but in slow finishing work. Tile today.
No, paleo has had a large power maintenance / equipment end-of-life replacement and upgrade project on his plate for several months, with planning starting in March, but things seriously ramping up about a month ago, and Saturday night is the show. I work in an industry where 24/7/365 power uptime is the standard, and how we are judged and sold, and getting the permissions and paperwork to do a 12 hour shutdown, although it is completely necessary, justified, and planned, is like pulling teeth. Saturday night is that visit to the dentist. Once I start work, in about an hour and a half, it will be asses and elbows until sometime Sunday afternoon...
Biggest project I've ever run, and although it is not an audition, per se, success tomorrow, and in its 3 encores over the next 18 months, will go a long way towards the goal of buffing a seat with my but, while I'm still ambulatory.
Nacho Soup Holly cannot cook. She is capable of the process of cooking, but Holly cannot cook in the same way that an octopus cannot ride a bike; it has enough arms to reach the pedals and handlebars but the result will rarely be a successful journey from A to B.I once looked over Holly's shoulder to discover her crumbling Alka-Seltzer tablets into a meal she was preparing because "they are salty and we ran out of salt."Saturday evening, Holly stated that she was making nachos for dinner so I was surprised to be presented with a bowl and spoon an hour later. "What's this? I asked."The nachos were a bit runny so I added a few cups of water. It's nacho soup," she replied."Is there even such a thing?" I asked. "And what are these bits in it?""They're the chips," Holly replied defensively as she sipped a spoon of Nachos and made a long "mmmmmm" noise. "I put it all in the blender so there shouldn't be any big bits.""I'm ringing for pizza," I said."Typical," replied Holly, "you never appreciate anything I do.""That's not true" I responded, "I appreciate everything you do but if I ordered a hamburger at McDonald's and they handed it to me in a cup with a straw saying 'Sorry, it was a bit runny so we threw it in the blender and added two cups of water, it's Big Mac soup', I would assume the restaurant was entirely staffed through some kind of special needs employment initiative. If they asked me, "Do you want fries with that?" I sure as fuck wouldn't reply, 'Yes, mix them in.'""It would probably be quite good," responded Holly, "but you would never know because you are too much of an asshole to taste it. Even if the guy at McDonalds spent an hour in the kitchen making it for you and burnt his thumb on a saucepan.""Fine," I relented, taking a scoop and raising it to my mouth, "I'll taste it." Sipping at the brown and yellow puree, I felt an intense burning sensation not unlike having a mouth full of red ants. I swallowed with effort as my eyes began to water and said, "It's a bit spicy.""Yes," said Holly, "We were out of Cumin so I used Curry instead. It's like an Indian version of Nacho soup."
Nice way to wake up! OBAMA RE-ELECTED. Early voting results indicate he owes the traditional progressive coalition, so let's hold his damn feet to the stovetop, fuck the 'Grand Bargain' bullshit. He's not been terrible, surprisingly and pleasingly positive in many arenas, and I again have hope. But it's up to us to tell him what we expect, and grade him on that. MN MARRIAGE AMENDMENT CRUMPLED UP IN THE DUSTBIN. I longed for sweet, smooth fundie tears to adorn my breakfast. Pancakes? MN PHOTO VOTER AMENDMENT NOT ALLOWED. I'm a cynic, and actually, thought this one would pass handily, as people are dumb. Must re-calibrate something... CHIP CRAVAACK WILL WORK FOR FOOD 2010 Teabagger surf-pony Chip 'Chip' Cravaack has been sent back to Aitkin, where he will end up selling the extra 'A' to buy matches for heat. TOMMY THOMPSON IN WI TAKES UP FULL TIME ALCOHOLISM Yay Tammy Baldwin! I have a relation who knows Tammy pretty well and says she is very cool, and everything I've seen, she is, so GO GET 'EM TAMMY. And, Thompson suffering has it's own particular odeur of schadenfreude! TEH BAD. BATSHIT SHELLEY LIKELY STAYS 90% + counted, and she has a 1% margin, not sure of the re-count trigger, half a percent? She was a teabagger (Marcus's ears perk up) before it was cool...
We are at the end of the stage where progress appears small, and yet is quite time consuming - tape, mud, paint, and considering starting a religion devoted to turning the general contractor into a goat (a futile but satisfying religion.) Painting's done, man! Much of the color scheme was picked by Sweetie, and I love it! (my part of it was discouraging certain choices, say any shade of blue, or the argyll runner, and encouraging other choices, such as the stripper parallel bars still in discussion.)
Except for some touch-up work at the end, we are done with the GC, and even though our experience has been relatively tame, especially in comparison to the descents into 7 hells we've watched friends go through, good damn riddance. We now have tile [subcontractor], plumbing [subcontractor], flooring (dry-core and laminate), trim, electrical trim-out, doors, window treatments, closet shelving/rods, moving stuff downstairs, building the fireplace enclosure and tiling that (a cobble-type finish), and enough comms and electronics to keep me at a basic level of entertainment (not, actually, a small number -if an algorithm could be derived for the 'entertainment of paleo') [me, me, me, me, and me]. I'd call things half-way-ish. Actually, I did call things half-way-ish. Sweetie briefly announced displeasure with the concept of math. Pppbbllfftt! Still, we are getting there, and a lot of things, materials, timetable, are now within my hands, allowing us much more control, a situation we am happier with! As we start our end up again, more changes should be visible and permanent, always good for a sense of accomplishment, and we're pretty happy now!
Heard on ESPN radio this morning, in regards to Alabama-LSU game, repeatedly, until my brain attempted to turn off the radio, or barring that, induce a small aneurysm.
