Some of you might remember my friend, Army Buddy. Army Buddy has been my friend since 1980 when we were temporarily stationed at Ft Irwin, CA which is a few hours north of us. Army Buddy has been a long distance truck driver since his divorce a few years ago. He and I have gotten together all over the US during our travels, and he visited us here in Palm Springs yesterday. Deb and I picked him up, and Deb said we should go to the steak house in the casino near here for dinner. What I should tell you is that this casino is an Indian casino, and I despise giving them any money at all, but I thought what the heck for dinner. So off we go with Army Buddy to Agua Caliente "The Steakhouse". What a ripoff. This place sucked so hard that it keeps California from falling off into the ocean. The steaks were $38+ which didn't include ANY side items. The side items were $7 each. Yes a baked potato was $7. The service was a joke as the waiters were pathetic and would have been fired from any other place. The food at Outback was far, far better. Gosh do you think The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy is unhappy? Nahhh. I would have dropped my drawers and showed them my big ole hairy butt but Army Buddy was there. Of course Army Buddy has been with me a time or two in years past when I did something along the same magnitude but that was years ago, and I am now supposed to act civilized. Let's just say we got scalped. Army Buddy liked his food and went away happy so all wasn't lost. However, if you see a picture of a Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy with his pants dropped mooning the Indians' casino and money pit,you know that was me.
It rained here yesterday. Holy whampum (we do seem to have an Indian theme to this blog entry). It rains here every second Tuesday of never but it did yesterday. We are in the dern desert. I took The Puppies to the vet here and when I walked in I noticed a towel on the floor in front of the door where doormats are usually placed back home where it rains a lot. The stores here must not need doormats because it never rains but it did yesterday while I was getting scalped at the Indian beef-a-joke-a-torium. And it is cold here too. I'm still waiting for it to snow which would be a first for Palm Springs but not for unweatherly Big Ole Dumb Southern Boys. Cry me a river. Boo hoo water the flowers in front of the Indian casino.
Well that is about all that I should write today. I should get to bed and count Indians jumping over our bank account. Yall have a great day tomorrow.
Al
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Pilgrimage, Sunset---Palm Springs Dec 12, 2011
This morning we heard a crowd passing The Love Boat. It turns out the crowd was a group participating in Our Lady of Guadalupe Pilgrimage. This crowd was something to see. The crowd stretched about 1/2 mile and were walking on a 32 mile pilgrimage through the valley. It looked like a lot of fun and I might have walked it too if I had known ahead of time. Here are a few pictures that you can enlarge by double clicking on them.
I think that these folks have a sense of religion and faith that is lacking so much in our society. Bravo to them. Now you know that I haven't gotten all warm and fuzz which is not my character. In the first photo, you will notice a cop. While The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy was taking these photos, an idiot walked up to that cop and had a heated talk with the cop. As the situation progressed I understood what was transpiring. The peeved idiot was waiting at that intersection to drive left through the crowd and the cops had stopped traffic for like five minutes. The idiot was bent out of shape that the cop would not let him through. To further emphasize his idiocrary, the man walked away screaming and then turned around and showed both of his middle fingers to the cop. What an idiot. I thought the cop would chase him and do an LAPD on him (not LAPD but small town cop) and beat him senseless but the cop did nothing but shake his head. So, I thought about this for a second and said hmmm to myself. This intersection was a cross section of America. The pilgrimage reflected positive and wonderful things for a large group of people while a single, disgruntled person showed ugliness and unwillingness to become part of something much larger and greater than himself. This butthead wanted to use the system (cop) to get his way regardless of the impact on this large group. Deb and The Puppies were standing watching this stupidity with me. Monty looked up at me and told me (with his eyes) that I should drag the democrat butthead to the groomer for a 4 hour bath and blow dry--that would fix his butt. Monty really did say democrat--honest.
The other day, we were coming out of a store somewhere in the valley about sunset, when we noticed an incredible sunset over the mountains. Here is a photograph of that sunset. That's me The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy in the car. Deb took this photo.
Just before Deb caught this photo, which I think caught the moment nicely, she had the camera held up at arm's length trying to take the photo, but the camera was in one of those modes where it does whatever it wants to do and takes the photo when it wants to not when you want it to take. You know what I'm talking about. So, she pushed the button and held it for a couple seconds and the camera was blinking and flashing and doing everything except taking the photo. Then Deb turned the camera around to look at its front to guage the problem (I guess) and of course the camera flashed and took this photo. Deb was blinded by the flash and a woman passing by yelled to Deb that she saw the whole thing. Deb is a bleach-bottle blond but sure acted like a real one.
Deb got into The Crapper and immediately knew that this photo would make it into the blog.
Well, I'm out of time for today. See Yall manana.
The other day, we were coming out of a store somewhere in the valley about sunset, when we noticed an incredible sunset over the mountains. Here is a photograph of that sunset. That's me The Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy in the car. Deb took this photo.
Just before Deb caught this photo, which I think caught the moment nicely, she had the camera held up at arm's length trying to take the photo, but the camera was in one of those modes where it does whatever it wants to do and takes the photo when it wants to not when you want it to take. You know what I'm talking about. So, she pushed the button and held it for a couple seconds and the camera was blinking and flashing and doing everything except taking the photo. Then Deb turned the camera around to look at its front to guage the problem (I guess) and of course the camera flashed and took this photo. Deb was blinded by the flash and a woman passing by yelled to Deb that she saw the whole thing. Deb is a bleach-bottle blond but sure acted like a real one.
Deb got into The Crapper and immediately knew that this photo would make it into the blog.
Well, I'm out of time for today. See Yall manana.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Groomers, Poopypants, Post Office---Palm Springs, CA Dec 10, 2011
We took The Puppies to a groomer for a bath, brushing, and paw rotation. This place is supposedly where President Gerald Ford took his dog or dogs. The Ford fact wasn't confirmed at presstime, but Deb told me so that makes it totally correct. Right? The Puppies were not impressed some ex-presidential dogs got a bath at this place. The Puppies would rather get neutered than have a bath. Well they spent the whole day at the groomers and came back all fluffy, smelly, and mad. Of course Deb had to drop them off and pick them up. I didn't want The Puppies hating me for the rest of their lives. Several years ago we took The Puppies to a groomer on the outskirts of New Orleans which was a year or two before Katrina flattened the groomer's store--or maybe New Orleans' Katrina shoppers did. Anyway, we went to pick The Puppies up at the New Orleans groomers and walked into the place and The Puppies were on tables being blown dry by large hot air driers. Dude, The Puppies were really upset. What was funny was the hair that was floating all in the air inside that building. It was something to see. Hair was on everything including the groomers. Oh well, The Puppies survived the presidential groomers too.
Speaking of The Puppies, we often walk on this trail that surrounds the park which is the same trail that The Puppies had their close encounter of the rabbit kind. Anyway, this woman with two ankle biter dogs, whom I will refer to her as Poopypants without an explanation, joined us as we got onto the trail. The Puppies liked her dogs and wanted to sniff them, but Poopypants wanted no part of that situation. Poopypants uttered some feeble excuse and scurried up the walking trail trying to get away from us with the ankle biters in tow behind her like dinghys being towed behind a battleship (battleaxe actually). Of course this situation occurred before The Puppies went to the presidential groomers, and I guess they looked like barbarians or something to her. Poopypants was hauling butt down the trail trying to get away. The Puppies were pulling on their leashes wanting to catch the ankle biters so they could hump them or somesuch. I don't know what The Puppies really wanted please ask them. Now The Puppies were not straining themselves too much but did want to pee on the ankle biters or something. Again, I don't know what they wanted. Well, Poopypants just kicked in 3rd gear and was running down the trail really unsociable like. Of course, dogs will be dogs, and one of the ankle biters just squatted and pooped while she was trying to drag the little feller down the trail. Poopypants was in a quandary as to whether she should stop and let The Barbarians catch her dogs or stop and let Ankle Biter #1 finish his democrat statue. I think I heard The Barbarians giggling about now. Ole Poopypants quickly halted, reached down and snatched up the democrat statue and started running again which she might have succeeded until Ankle Biter #2 squatted in mid panic mode to make another democrat statue. Deb and I were laughing loudly about now and sped up to catch her. The Barbarians and us finally caught her and passed her without much fanfare. Poopypants was all bowed up and unhappy. Deb said something to her but I guess Poopypants was too peeved with her ankle biters to reply. Poor Poopypants. Now that I think about it, I think it would be better to say poor ankle biters.
Speaking of idjits, I had to fax something back to Raleighwood and didn't have a fax machine in The Love Boat. What you don't know is that we actually carry a combination printer, fax, and scanner in the basement area. The idea is that Deb and I could have a mobile office. Except I took the dern thing out in Raleigh so I could put different junk in its place. We historically never used the printer. Well duh.. So, I had to find an office supply store that had a fax. It just so happens a small, private supply house resided about 1/2 mile from The Love Boat. It took about 2 minutes to get to the place. When I walked in I noticed a sign that said "Official US Post Office". This place acted for a fee as the local post office and was about the size of a small convenience store but jammed with all kinds of office crap. The counter took up about 1/2 of the store and had a 2" by 12" hole cutout in the front of the counter about 2' office the floor. The cutout allowed people to put mail into a post office bin under the counter. Just as I got up to the counter a guy with a post office uniform came in and walked around the counter and got underneath it busily putting letters that had fallen unto the floor into the bin. In walks a guy, we will call him Mr Genius, about twenty years old with a huge boxful of mail from one of the car dealerships nearby. Mr Genius walks up to the counter and was preparing to put the mail into the slot. Being a person that loves a good joke, I looked at the postman and said, "Looks like people want to fill it up faster than you can empty it". The postman laughed and said that the bin was overflowing, and he was trying to get the mail into another bin. I could see the postman's hands through the slot going like gangbusters picking up mail from the floor. Well Mr Genius had heard us but decided now was the time for him to put his armful of mail through the slot. I started laughing and looked at Mr Genius. It took Mr Genius about a minute to cram all of that mail a handful at a time through that slot while the postman was three feet from him under the counter picking the mail up off the floor. Mr Genius walked out and I had a good laugh at this. I asked the postman, "Dude I'm no rocket scientist but why didn't Mr Genius just hand you that box of mail since you are three feet from him". The guy that ran the store and the postman laughed and said that it happens a lot. The store owner said people would come in with huge envelopes or boxes and couldn't but would try to cram the stuff through that mail slot even though the owner was on the other side of the counter. I'll bet those idjits had BO for Prez bumperstickers on their Dodge Darts too.
See Yall later. I'll try and update more often.
Al
Speaking of The Puppies, we often walk on this trail that surrounds the park which is the same trail that The Puppies had their close encounter of the rabbit kind. Anyway, this woman with two ankle biter dogs, whom I will refer to her as Poopypants without an explanation, joined us as we got onto the trail. The Puppies liked her dogs and wanted to sniff them, but Poopypants wanted no part of that situation. Poopypants uttered some feeble excuse and scurried up the walking trail trying to get away from us with the ankle biters in tow behind her like dinghys being towed behind a battleship (battleaxe actually). Of course this situation occurred before The Puppies went to the presidential groomers, and I guess they looked like barbarians or something to her. Poopypants was hauling butt down the trail trying to get away. The Puppies were pulling on their leashes wanting to catch the ankle biters so they could hump them or somesuch. I don't know what The Puppies really wanted please ask them. Now The Puppies were not straining themselves too much but did want to pee on the ankle biters or something. Again, I don't know what they wanted. Well, Poopypants just kicked in 3rd gear and was running down the trail really unsociable like. Of course, dogs will be dogs, and one of the ankle biters just squatted and pooped while she was trying to drag the little feller down the trail. Poopypants was in a quandary as to whether she should stop and let The Barbarians catch her dogs or stop and let Ankle Biter #1 finish his democrat statue. I think I heard The Barbarians giggling about now. Ole Poopypants quickly halted, reached down and snatched up the democrat statue and started running again which she might have succeeded until Ankle Biter #2 squatted in mid panic mode to make another democrat statue. Deb and I were laughing loudly about now and sped up to catch her. The Barbarians and us finally caught her and passed her without much fanfare. Poopypants was all bowed up and unhappy. Deb said something to her but I guess Poopypants was too peeved with her ankle biters to reply. Poor Poopypants. Now that I think about it, I think it would be better to say poor ankle biters.
Speaking of idjits, I had to fax something back to Raleighwood and didn't have a fax machine in The Love Boat. What you don't know is that we actually carry a combination printer, fax, and scanner in the basement area. The idea is that Deb and I could have a mobile office. Except I took the dern thing out in Raleigh so I could put different junk in its place. We historically never used the printer. Well duh.. So, I had to find an office supply store that had a fax. It just so happens a small, private supply house resided about 1/2 mile from The Love Boat. It took about 2 minutes to get to the place. When I walked in I noticed a sign that said "Official US Post Office". This place acted for a fee as the local post office and was about the size of a small convenience store but jammed with all kinds of office crap. The counter took up about 1/2 of the store and had a 2" by 12" hole cutout in the front of the counter about 2' office the floor. The cutout allowed people to put mail into a post office bin under the counter. Just as I got up to the counter a guy with a post office uniform came in and walked around the counter and got underneath it busily putting letters that had fallen unto the floor into the bin. In walks a guy, we will call him Mr Genius, about twenty years old with a huge boxful of mail from one of the car dealerships nearby. Mr Genius walks up to the counter and was preparing to put the mail into the slot. Being a person that loves a good joke, I looked at the postman and said, "Looks like people want to fill it up faster than you can empty it". The postman laughed and said that the bin was overflowing, and he was trying to get the mail into another bin. I could see the postman's hands through the slot going like gangbusters picking up mail from the floor. Well Mr Genius had heard us but decided now was the time for him to put his armful of mail through the slot. I started laughing and looked at Mr Genius. It took Mr Genius about a minute to cram all of that mail a handful at a time through that slot while the postman was three feet from him under the counter picking the mail up off the floor. Mr Genius walked out and I had a good laugh at this. I asked the postman, "Dude I'm no rocket scientist but why didn't Mr Genius just hand you that box of mail since you are three feet from him". The guy that ran the store and the postman laughed and said that it happens a lot. The store owner said people would come in with huge envelopes or boxes and couldn't but would try to cram the stuff through that mail slot even though the owner was on the other side of the counter. I'll bet those idjits had BO for Prez bumperstickers on their Dodge Darts too.
See Yall later. I'll try and update more often.
Al
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Palm Springs, The Puppies Celebrity, Rabbits, Presidents Dec 6, 2011
Yesterday, I was driving somewhere and was waiting for the stop light to change in the left turn lane. A car pulled up beside me on the right with the front of the car even with the passenger side window which has happened a thousand times in the past. I thought nothing of it. Then the car inched forward with the driver of the other car even to the passenger door of The Crapper. Ok, that go my attention. My spidey sense was all tingly. So, I turned to look at the driver who was an elderly woman which should have been no biggie right? Through the closed Crapper's passenger door window and her closed driver's door window the woman was talking or mouthing words or something. Ok, my spidey sense stopped and my "You've got trouble" flag went up. The I realized she wasn't Marcel Marceauing me but at the rear window of The Crapper. Monty (half of The Puppies) was standing upright with his whole head out the window looking dead at the woman. The woman was talking to Monty, and I guess Monty could actually hear her. The lady must have recognized Monty's celebrity and was a traffic stopping fan. The Puppies get that type of behavior everywhere they go.
A couple nights ago, Deb, The Puppies, and myself went for a walk. The path that we used is a local bike and pedestrian path that runs parallel to the park where we are staying. During the walk, we noticed at least a dozen rabbits in a certain area along the path which runs parallel to another housing area that borders our park. Naturally The Puppies wanted to chase the rabbits and had a field day with their presence. Deb and I refer to Monty as The Squirrelinator for his personal disdain for squirrels. Monty has never caught a squirrel but that hasn't stopped him from chasing plenty of them with the same gusto as John Edwards chasing skanks. Well, The Squirrelinator is now known as The Rabbitinator. Monty tries to chase the rabbits, snorts, and pulls on his leash with the same disdain he has for squirrels which is almost like he lost his daddy in The Great Rabbit War and wants revenge. Riley could care less because Riley merely wants to find something to pee on kind of like a democrat does to us. Anyway, yesterday during our walk, we saw only a couple rabbits and wondered where the others were, then we noticed the coyote hiding in the dense brush about fifty feet from us. Well Monty leaped into action and wanted the Coyoteinator medal pinned to his chest. Surprisingly, the coyote ran. The Puppies are not exactly intimidating, but I guess if the situation boils down to fight or flight, flight wins with the coyote. Monty was all bowed up and snorting like a bull ready to chase red kerchiefed drunken idjits through the streets of Pomplona. Monty is all show and no go but he likes to let us think he knows what he is doing kind of like a democrat.
So, I was driving The Crapper in the small strip mall near our park. It is my philosophy that people do stupid stuff all the time and shouldn't be harmed because of a temporary lapse in judment. Case in point the people that voted for democrats in 2008 thinking that "change" would was going to be a good thing. But anyway, I was driving through the strip mall when an elderly gentleman walked out of Starbucks and stepped directing into The Crapper's path without looking for traffic. I was driving slowly and half expected an idjit to jump out out somewhere, so I wasn't too surprised. I screeched to a halt inches from the man who turned and looked at me similar to what you would expect from a mugshot of a wide-eyed, drunken democrat caught soliciting a male prostitute. The last sentence took a moment for me to word. You know the look where they obviously are surprised yet clueless. The man stared for a moment then turned and began walking again totally oblivious to how close to death he had just come or even why he voted for a bunch of dern democrats a few years ago. These are moments that make me go hhmmm.
I met a gentleman here a few years ago that grew up in Hickory, NC where I grew up. I just saw him again, and we chit-chatted about a few things. The gentleman lives in Oregon and winters in Palm Springs. What got my attention was when he said he was President Dwight Eisenhower's driver in Palm Springs. Eisenhower owned a home here in Palm Springs. After speaking with the gentleman, I found out he knew a few other presidents including President Gerald Ford who lived and died in Rancho Mirage, CA which is part of Coachella Valley (Palm Springs is in Coachella Valley). I wondered if he knew Betty Ford, Ford's wife and first lady, who founded The Betty Ford Clinic popular for sobering up rock stars and male prostitute soliciting democrats. This gentleman was a treat to talk with. I am amazed at the interesting people that I find in our journeys--this gentleman included.
Well, that is about all of the democrat jokes that I can muster for today. Have a great day.
Al
A couple nights ago, Deb, The Puppies, and myself went for a walk. The path that we used is a local bike and pedestrian path that runs parallel to the park where we are staying. During the walk, we noticed at least a dozen rabbits in a certain area along the path which runs parallel to another housing area that borders our park. Naturally The Puppies wanted to chase the rabbits and had a field day with their presence. Deb and I refer to Monty as The Squirrelinator for his personal disdain for squirrels. Monty has never caught a squirrel but that hasn't stopped him from chasing plenty of them with the same gusto as John Edwards chasing skanks. Well, The Squirrelinator is now known as The Rabbitinator. Monty tries to chase the rabbits, snorts, and pulls on his leash with the same disdain he has for squirrels which is almost like he lost his daddy in The Great Rabbit War and wants revenge. Riley could care less because Riley merely wants to find something to pee on kind of like a democrat does to us. Anyway, yesterday during our walk, we saw only a couple rabbits and wondered where the others were, then we noticed the coyote hiding in the dense brush about fifty feet from us. Well Monty leaped into action and wanted the Coyoteinator medal pinned to his chest. Surprisingly, the coyote ran. The Puppies are not exactly intimidating, but I guess if the situation boils down to fight or flight, flight wins with the coyote. Monty was all bowed up and snorting like a bull ready to chase red kerchiefed drunken idjits through the streets of Pomplona. Monty is all show and no go but he likes to let us think he knows what he is doing kind of like a democrat.
So, I was driving The Crapper in the small strip mall near our park. It is my philosophy that people do stupid stuff all the time and shouldn't be harmed because of a temporary lapse in judment. Case in point the people that voted for democrats in 2008 thinking that "change" would was going to be a good thing. But anyway, I was driving through the strip mall when an elderly gentleman walked out of Starbucks and stepped directing into The Crapper's path without looking for traffic. I was driving slowly and half expected an idjit to jump out out somewhere, so I wasn't too surprised. I screeched to a halt inches from the man who turned and looked at me similar to what you would expect from a mugshot of a wide-eyed, drunken democrat caught soliciting a male prostitute. The last sentence took a moment for me to word. You know the look where they obviously are surprised yet clueless. The man stared for a moment then turned and began walking again totally oblivious to how close to death he had just come or even why he voted for a bunch of dern democrats a few years ago. These are moments that make me go hhmmm.
I met a gentleman here a few years ago that grew up in Hickory, NC where I grew up. I just saw him again, and we chit-chatted about a few things. The gentleman lives in Oregon and winters in Palm Springs. What got my attention was when he said he was President Dwight Eisenhower's driver in Palm Springs. Eisenhower owned a home here in Palm Springs. After speaking with the gentleman, I found out he knew a few other presidents including President Gerald Ford who lived and died in Rancho Mirage, CA which is part of Coachella Valley (Palm Springs is in Coachella Valley). I wondered if he knew Betty Ford, Ford's wife and first lady, who founded The Betty Ford Clinic popular for sobering up rock stars and male prostitute soliciting democrats. This gentleman was a treat to talk with. I am amazed at the interesting people that I find in our journeys--this gentleman included.
Well, that is about all of the democrat jokes that I can muster for today. Have a great day.
Al
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Palm Springs, Weather, Witchiepoo Junk, Redwood Lumber Dec 4, 2011
The weather here is cold. What in the world? Daytime temperatures of 80 degrees are normal and became 60 degrees when we got here. This mess happened two years ago when we were here. This ain't funny and I want warm weather again. Shoot Raleighwood is warmer than this and I wouldn't have to put up with Californians. Oh man I just caught myself whining. I've been in Califunkia 10 minutes and the whining has consumed the Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy. Geez Louise.
A couple days ago, Witchiepoo came over and told Deb that she wanted our recycling. I initially thought about it for a microsecond and wondered if Witchiepoo was hording trash or something. I wouldn't put it past Witchiepoo after seeing Casa Witchiepoo. After fifteen years of marriage, I have learned to allow Deb to handle the indigenous natives. It is much easier than me buying new shoes after losing one in some nincompoop's butt. So, I asked Deb if she had thought to ask Witchiepoo why she wanted our recycling, and Deb said so Witchiepoo could get money for it. Well dern, Califunknia has a bottle and other recyclable stuff deposit law. The grocery stores charge a deposit on certain recyclables and give it back to you when you return the empty to the grocery store. This law has been tried many times in NC, but I am told the law was always defeated because it places an undue burden on grocery stores to store recyclable material. All the treehuggers just got their panties all bunched up after that last sentence. Listen, I just parroted what I heard so sit your butt down. I don't need to buy new shoes. Anwyay, Witchiepoo has an income stream returning pop bottles and stuff. To enable Witchiepoo, Deb tied a bag onto the kitchen cabinet handles (GRRRRRR) to put this mess in to save it for Witchiepoo. The bag isn't going over well with me, and I now have visions of saying to heck with it and letting Witchiepoo go through our trash. GGGGRRRRR. I believe in doing what is right but where in the Sam Hill did I sign up to have Witchiepoo's trash collected at Casa Al; furthermore, nor do I want to see our junk memorialized at Witchiepoo's Fred G. Sanford Birthplace, Flying Broom Emporium, and House of Repudiation. This situation is going to take some thought. I'll update you on this trashy situation soon. GGRRRR.
Ok, you eastcoasters need to quit calling and texting me so early in the morning. Not to mention names, but my old friend whose initials are Dwight (Dwight's name finally showed up in the blog) called me really early today, on a Sunday morning, not thinking what time it was in Califunknia. Of course Dwight wasn't the only one, I've had lots of people wake my old butt up early not thinking about the time difference. I must admit it doesn't bother me but please remember Califunknia time.
Speaking of Dwight made me think about my visit to Lowe's yesterday. I walked through the building supplies and noticed all the nice redwood lumber available. Redwood lumber is an exotic lumber in Raleighwood and would never be in Lowe's at home. I was building something at Deb's parents place yesterday and was using douglas fir lumber which is the standard here. Man that is some nice smelling wood as it reminds me of cedar. I spoke to Dwight about it and wished we could get a few train car loads of redwood and douglas fir in Raleighwood but that is just wishful thinking. My wish brings to mind an old poem:
That is about all for today. I'll quit whining and get down to today's affairs. Do yourself a favor and put up more Christmas lights because you don't have enough up yet. Trust me, you ain't got enough lights up yet. Next year when my Christmas display goes up, I will break the 100K bulb count easily. So, put up some more lights.
Bye for now,
Al
A couple days ago, Witchiepoo came over and told Deb that she wanted our recycling. I initially thought about it for a microsecond and wondered if Witchiepoo was hording trash or something. I wouldn't put it past Witchiepoo after seeing Casa Witchiepoo. After fifteen years of marriage, I have learned to allow Deb to handle the indigenous natives. It is much easier than me buying new shoes after losing one in some nincompoop's butt. So, I asked Deb if she had thought to ask Witchiepoo why she wanted our recycling, and Deb said so Witchiepoo could get money for it. Well dern, Califunknia has a bottle and other recyclable stuff deposit law. The grocery stores charge a deposit on certain recyclables and give it back to you when you return the empty to the grocery store. This law has been tried many times in NC, but I am told the law was always defeated because it places an undue burden on grocery stores to store recyclable material. All the treehuggers just got their panties all bunched up after that last sentence. Listen, I just parroted what I heard so sit your butt down. I don't need to buy new shoes. Anwyay, Witchiepoo has an income stream returning pop bottles and stuff. To enable Witchiepoo, Deb tied a bag onto the kitchen cabinet handles (GRRRRRR) to put this mess in to save it for Witchiepoo. The bag isn't going over well with me, and I now have visions of saying to heck with it and letting Witchiepoo go through our trash. GGGGRRRRR. I believe in doing what is right but where in the Sam Hill did I sign up to have Witchiepoo's trash collected at Casa Al; furthermore, nor do I want to see our junk memorialized at Witchiepoo's Fred G. Sanford Birthplace, Flying Broom Emporium, and House of Repudiation. This situation is going to take some thought. I'll update you on this trashy situation soon. GGRRRR.
Ok, you eastcoasters need to quit calling and texting me so early in the morning. Not to mention names, but my old friend whose initials are Dwight (Dwight's name finally showed up in the blog) called me really early today, on a Sunday morning, not thinking what time it was in Califunknia. Of course Dwight wasn't the only one, I've had lots of people wake my old butt up early not thinking about the time difference. I must admit it doesn't bother me but please remember Califunknia time.
Speaking of Dwight made me think about my visit to Lowe's yesterday. I walked through the building supplies and noticed all the nice redwood lumber available. Redwood lumber is an exotic lumber in Raleighwood and would never be in Lowe's at home. I was building something at Deb's parents place yesterday and was using douglas fir lumber which is the standard here. Man that is some nice smelling wood as it reminds me of cedar. I spoke to Dwight about it and wished we could get a few train car loads of redwood and douglas fir in Raleighwood but that is just wishful thinking. My wish brings to mind an old poem:
- If wishes were horses
- Beggars would ride:
- If turnips were watches
- I would wear one by my side.
- And if if's and an's were pots and pans,
- The tinker would never work!
That is about all for today. I'll quit whining and get down to today's affairs. Do yourself a favor and put up more Christmas lights because you don't have enough up yet. Trust me, you ain't got enough lights up yet. Next year when my Christmas display goes up, I will break the 100K bulb count easily. So, put up some more lights.
Bye for now,
Al
Palm Springs Cold Weather, Walgreens, Witchiepoo Dec 3, 2011
I'll bet you thought I forgot about you. Well I did, but I can honestly say I've been busy and didn't have time. Oh geez, where do I start.
The weather here is cold. A couple days ago we had really high winds that made the duststorms fly outside of the valley (Coachella Valley). The winds here in the valley were pretty tough but no where near as bad outside the valley. The term for those winds are Santa Ana winds which are brought to us complements of Santa Claus or some other Santa or somesuch-who knows and really who cares. Before the storm, I took The Crapper to the local car wash and $30 later all of the dog hair and road junk from the trip here were gone. That was the day that the winds started. Now The Crapper looks like I lived on a dirt road. Stupid duststorms. Maybe the givermint will hire somebody I can whine to about it. Geez, I've been in Liberalville all of a couple days, and now I'm acting live a democrat. Nope, it ain't gonna happen.
Speaking of democrats, Deb went into Walgreens tonight, and I stayed in The Crapper with The Puppies. Were calling them The Puppies because they were afraid they would get deported or something if we called them Los Perritos in front of a immigration officer which are thick as thieves in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California. So, anyway, I was sitting in The Crapper with The Puppies waiting on Deb. Deb got her stuff and walked up to the cashier (till for my Canadian readers), and the cashier asked her if she was ready for a new president. Now how did that woman know that Deb was married to me? Deb said yes and the woman made a smarty remark about electric cars too. Dern, I was sitting in the car while this was going on. Deb was discombobulated and wondered how that woman got by with talking anti-Californian stuff to the customers. Well La de da. A conservative in this den of librrrllllss? How did that happen? Dude, you can't sling a dead cat in this state without hitting a granola crunching, sandal wearing, librrrlll nincompoop. I guess the cashier woman was evangelizing and trying to convert nincompoops before all is lost for them. Well dang, I should get a t-shirt with that woman's face on it.
Speaking of women, I should tell you about Witchiepoo. When we arrived in Librrrlllville, the lady that runs the park that we are in told us to go check out a few sites and see which site was suitable for refined Southern folks like ourselves. While Deb was talking to the manager lady, I parked The Love Boat at the entrance and detached The Crapper from the tow bar. When Deb said that we had a couple places to look over, we all jumped into The Crapper and went exploring thinking The Love Boat would be difficult to navigate through narrow streets. The Puppies were riding around in the back seat with the window down sniffing and poking their noses out and doing general puppy stuff. We stopped at the first place, and Witchiepoo, who is a permanent resident in the park, came out and asked, "Can I help you?" Well I took one look at her and decided she was trouble with a capital T, and I was in no mood for nonsense after driving a gazillion miles in Librrrlllville. So, I did what I do best and ignored her and let Deb talk to her. I should explain to you that for some reason (stuff bounces around in my empty head and can materialize into just about anything) this woman reminded me of Witchiepoo who was a character on a TV program named H.R. Pufnstuf back when I was a little conservative. Anyway, Witchiepoo wanted to know why we were looking at the spot directly across from her Flying Broom trailer. I was afraid I was going to say something like, "I don't need any help and why don't you fly back to your cave, bat". So, I let Deb handle her. Deb told her we were looking at this spot and others and preparing to dock The Love Boat in Witchiepoo's territory. Here again, I was in no mood for Witchiepoo to come over, lift up her leg, and spray our motorhome marking her territory. But she came over and acted nice and wanted to meet The Puppies. The Puppies thought she looked like Witchiepoo and was preparing to spray The Crapper and started barking at her. Witchiepoo stated she liked dogs and furthermore liked The Puppies. While we were docking The Love Boat into the spot, Witchiepoo came over and commented on my supreme Love Boat docking abilities and patted The Puppies again.. She was trying to soften me up or something--I guess. But I ignored her and let Deb talk to her. Deb's mom, who is a snowbird nearby, new about Witchiepoo and sort of reinforced what I had surmised about Witchiepoo. See, I know people. Anyway, the adventures of Witchiepoo continue but will have to wait until next time. Same Bat time, same Bat channel.
See yall,
Al
The weather here is cold. A couple days ago we had really high winds that made the duststorms fly outside of the valley (Coachella Valley). The winds here in the valley were pretty tough but no where near as bad outside the valley. The term for those winds are Santa Ana winds which are brought to us complements of Santa Claus or some other Santa or somesuch-who knows and really who cares. Before the storm, I took The Crapper to the local car wash and $30 later all of the dog hair and road junk from the trip here were gone. That was the day that the winds started. Now The Crapper looks like I lived on a dirt road. Stupid duststorms. Maybe the givermint will hire somebody I can whine to about it. Geez, I've been in Liberalville all of a couple days, and now I'm acting live a democrat. Nope, it ain't gonna happen.
Speaking of democrats, Deb went into Walgreens tonight, and I stayed in The Crapper with The Puppies. Were calling them The Puppies because they were afraid they would get deported or something if we called them Los Perritos in front of a immigration officer which are thick as thieves in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California. So, anyway, I was sitting in The Crapper with The Puppies waiting on Deb. Deb got her stuff and walked up to the cashier (till for my Canadian readers), and the cashier asked her if she was ready for a new president. Now how did that woman know that Deb was married to me? Deb said yes and the woman made a smarty remark about electric cars too. Dern, I was sitting in the car while this was going on. Deb was discombobulated and wondered how that woman got by with talking anti-Californian stuff to the customers. Well La de da. A conservative in this den of librrrllllss? How did that happen? Dude, you can't sling a dead cat in this state without hitting a granola crunching, sandal wearing, librrrlll nincompoop. I guess the cashier woman was evangelizing and trying to convert nincompoops before all is lost for them. Well dang, I should get a t-shirt with that woman's face on it.
Speaking of women, I should tell you about Witchiepoo. When we arrived in Librrrlllville, the lady that runs the park that we are in told us to go check out a few sites and see which site was suitable for refined Southern folks like ourselves. While Deb was talking to the manager lady, I parked The Love Boat at the entrance and detached The Crapper from the tow bar. When Deb said that we had a couple places to look over, we all jumped into The Crapper and went exploring thinking The Love Boat would be difficult to navigate through narrow streets. The Puppies were riding around in the back seat with the window down sniffing and poking their noses out and doing general puppy stuff. We stopped at the first place, and Witchiepoo, who is a permanent resident in the park, came out and asked, "Can I help you?" Well I took one look at her and decided she was trouble with a capital T, and I was in no mood for nonsense after driving a gazillion miles in Librrrlllville. So, I did what I do best and ignored her and let Deb talk to her. I should explain to you that for some reason (stuff bounces around in my empty head and can materialize into just about anything) this woman reminded me of Witchiepoo who was a character on a TV program named H.R. Pufnstuf back when I was a little conservative. Anyway, Witchiepoo wanted to know why we were looking at the spot directly across from her Flying Broom trailer. I was afraid I was going to say something like, "I don't need any help and why don't you fly back to your cave, bat". So, I let Deb handle her. Deb told her we were looking at this spot and others and preparing to dock The Love Boat in Witchiepoo's territory. Here again, I was in no mood for Witchiepoo to come over, lift up her leg, and spray our motorhome marking her territory. But she came over and acted nice and wanted to meet The Puppies. The Puppies thought she looked like Witchiepoo and was preparing to spray The Crapper and started barking at her. Witchiepoo stated she liked dogs and furthermore liked The Puppies. While we were docking The Love Boat into the spot, Witchiepoo came over and commented on my supreme Love Boat docking abilities and patted The Puppies again.. She was trying to soften me up or something--I guess. But I ignored her and let Deb talk to her. Deb's mom, who is a snowbird nearby, new about Witchiepoo and sort of reinforced what I had surmised about Witchiepoo. See, I know people. Anyway, the adventures of Witchiepoo continue but will have to wait until next time. Same Bat time, same Bat channel.
See yall,
Al
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Palm Springs, CA Nov 30 ,2011
Hello from Palm Springs, California. The Puppies are ecstatic that they didn't have to wear their seatbelts today. Yes, The Puppies have doggie seatbelts, and they detest them. Monty runs for cover whenever his harness comes out. Palm Springs means no seatbelts for a month. It also means no house rides either. The Puppies are happy and so are we.
We are expecting high winds for the next couple of days which means a possible duststorm or rather another possible duststorm. The Love Boat is still nasty from the last storm. Oh goody. With a little luck it shouldn't be too bad. Enough small talk, let's get down to the funny stuff.
I went to Lowe's today for some belated repair stuff for The Love Boat. I have gone into Lowe's at home a million times. Lowe's started in North Carolina near where I grew up and about the time I was growing up. I saw something today that was plain weird and a first A guy, in his mid forties, walked into Lowe's wearing only pants meaning no shoes or shirt. He easily and quickly walked into the door and got an electric scooter and proceeded to roam around the store in an electric scooter for the handicapped. He clearly wasn't handicapped except for maybe between his ears. I wondered which was worse, a non-handicapped person riding in a scooter or a half-naked, non-handicapped man riding in a scooter. Ok, a non-handicapped man riding in a scooter. Geez you would think I would be used to it by now. Nope and welcome to California.
That is all for today. It is late and I must admit I forgot to update the blog. Don't run down to Lowe's and ride scooters half-naked or something. I'll see you tomorrow.
Al
We are expecting high winds for the next couple of days which means a possible duststorm or rather another possible duststorm. The Love Boat is still nasty from the last storm. Oh goody. With a little luck it shouldn't be too bad. Enough small talk, let's get down to the funny stuff.
I went to Lowe's today for some belated repair stuff for The Love Boat. I have gone into Lowe's at home a million times. Lowe's started in North Carolina near where I grew up and about the time I was growing up. I saw something today that was plain weird and a first A guy, in his mid forties, walked into Lowe's wearing only pants meaning no shoes or shirt. He easily and quickly walked into the door and got an electric scooter and proceeded to roam around the store in an electric scooter for the handicapped. He clearly wasn't handicapped except for maybe between his ears. I wondered which was worse, a non-handicapped person riding in a scooter or a half-naked, non-handicapped man riding in a scooter. Ok, a non-handicapped man riding in a scooter. Geez you would think I would be used to it by now. Nope and welcome to California.
That is all for today. It is late and I must admit I forgot to update the blog. Don't run down to Lowe's and ride scooters half-naked or something. I'll see you tomorrow.
Al
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