Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

My Photo
Location: Texas, United States

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Cats, Boxes & Global Conglomerates

Oh, Mamma, I'z gots dem new home blooooz....

All's quiet on the home front.   So far...

At this point in the moving process, I've occupied the foreign territory, and am working to pacify the region.  Otherwise known as settling in and unpacking, and getting used to the new surroundings.

For such a large back yard and adjoining green space, I'm a bit surprised at the lack of wildlife.
I figured on more critters running about, but aside from the usual crop of birds and a squirrel or two, there hasn't been much.   The last time I lived on the edge of a large grassy plain, there were lots of rabbits to be seen in the evening, and the occasional skunk or possum.

Could be that the local cats have been keeping busy. There's a Holstein-looking tomcat with half a tail I've dubbed "Stumpy" that I see almost every day.  I also spotted a mackerel tabby this morning in the wee hours.  Neither one looks to be a pet, but they seem in good health, and a regular diet of bunny will keep a cat fat & happy.

I'm still ass-deep in boxes, and will be for some time.  I'm unable to unpack the books and DVDs until suitable shelf space is acquired or constructed.  This could take a while...

AT&T is due to come out on Friday and unfuck their Uverse service.  They sent me the self-install kit, which was supposed to be quick, easy and save me $100 on the install.

What they neglected to tell me was that they've selected one particular phone jack that is the only one that will connect, but they can't tell me which one it is.

The previous owner was a bit of a phone freak, and installed a jack in damn near every room, including both bathrooms and the garage.  I refuse to lug modem, power supply, cables, laptop, etc. from room to room until I find the right one, so I browbeat AT&T to come out and wire it up like I'd prefer.

We'll see how that works out.  They say they won't charge me, but those greedy bastards get their pound of flesh one way or another...

More later, kiddies...

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Those Dirty Birdies

First World Problems

Every day in the new house is an opportunity to discover something new.

Some things are good.  Others?  Not so much...

There's a nice porch out back.  Not huge, maybe 12x14, just big enough for a few chairs and a BBQ pit.

It seems fairly sturdy in spite of the thin roof, which is constructed of that corrugated fiberglass greenhouse paneling.  Still, it lets in some light, and appears to be watertight.

The downside?  With the tight construction and wooden framework underneath, it's remarkably similar to a banjo resonator or a snare drum head in terms of transmitting sound.

I discovered this last Sunday morning, when a flock of birds decided that my back porch was an ideal spot for their minyan.

The sport of the day was to race back and forth on the roof, every little claw echoing on the paneling and getting amplified.  Somehow this got channeled directly to the master bedroom, and hence on to the unwilling ears of your intrepid homeowner.

Next item on the shopping list?  One of those plastic owls, or perhaps a hungry feral cat...

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

One Step Forward...

Two Steps Back, And You Also Trip And Fall On Your Ass

Home ownership truly is the neverending "Honey Do" list.  Even if you're you're a drone on your own...

Once you get that big ol' mortgage check written, there's just as much cash needed for upkeep & repair, it seems.  It's like your Home Sweet Home has an eternal hand out saying "Fuck You!  Pay Me!!"

I got to futzing around with the gas range the other night, and managed to get all four burners to not only light, but ignite off the internal sparker and not a match.  It takes a second or so longer than perhaps it should, and makes a nice *WHOOSH* that you'd be advised to keep your eyebrows clear of, but it works!

OTOH, the kitchen sink has sprung a leak, dumping any water poured down the drain underneath into the cabinet below.  One of the connectors off the disposal unit seems to have torn itself loose, mostly 'cause the sink itself has a wobble to it due to an uneven countertop.

"Fuck You!  Pay Me!!"

So, you can still use the right side of the sink, just not the left side.

The shitter in the hall bathroom has got a wonky flapper valve.  That's an easy enough fix, but I'm just going to replace the entire unit with a larger toilet.

"Fuck You!  Pay Me!!"

See, for the last 10 years, I've been using an ADA compliant can.  17" high, deep bowl, built for folks transferring off of wheel chairs, or for plus-size mofos like me.

That's been one of the serious issues with this new house, having to drop a deuce into the old-style mini-toilets.   They're the old short round bowl, and for me, it's like trying to squat and crap into a gallon paint can.

Damn, this is a lot of work.  I shoulda just gotten that van down by the river...

Thursday, November 05, 2015

Only 357 More To Go...

I Owe, I Owe, So Off To Work I Go...

Y'know, when I wrote that first mortgage check, it was kind of exciting.   First foray into home ownership, new experience, added responsibility, and all that.

Check #2 was kinda similar.

Check #3?   I feel compelled to tell you that the shine's worn off that new toy.  I'm ready to have this thing paid off.

Well, nose to the grindstone.  Time to start chopping principle off the back of the note.  I'll inquire into biweekly payments instead of monthly, and see if there's enough left over that I can pay an extra Benjamin every month or so.

Monday, November 02, 2015

Still Kickin'

Life Is Cordially Invited To Smooch My Tooch

Yeah, yeah... Things are rough all over.

Here's a handy life lesson:

Friday, October 16, 2015

Back From The Wilderness

Wow.  Mid-October Already?

Damn, that was a long, dry spell.  Don't think I've ever let quite that much time pass between updates.  Feel kinda bad about it, to tell the truth.

OTOH, things have been... well, problematic, to say the least.

If you've followed along on Facebook, you know the tale, more or less.

For the rest of you, here's the scoop behind my lengthy disappearance:

I just didn't give a shit about posting to the blog.   See, my best friend since we were freshmen in high school killed himself on September 30th.

Since then, things have been mostly a dark grey blur.

I'm not going to tell the whole story.  Not yet anyway.  The short version is that he had struggled with alcoholism for years, then got diagnosed with a nasty dose of cancer that required serious surgery & lengthy sessions of chemotherapy.

The drinking never stopped, and eventually started chewing up his organs, which were none too perky to begin with after all the chemo.  So, his health was pretty precarious.

Still, he had a good 7 year run after a stage IV diagnosis.

The cancer came back, though.  He found out at a screening in September.

When it did, he decided to check out via the express lane.

So, here I am.  Without my runnin' buddy of 33 years.

Friday, September 18, 2015

Don't Read This

I Warned You...

When the quickest path to comfort and a return to normalcy is an ice pack applied to the goo-nads, you can be pretty damn sure your life has veered off in a direction most dare not to tread...

As age and gravity take their toll, the ability to keep all your nether bits in order via quality undergarments can't be overstated.

In today's debacle, some worn elastic, age-strained fabric and a high step into the truck cab allowed the escape of the Balzac for looser pastures.

Of course, the resulting shift behind the steering wheel and re-compression of the trouser fabric led to a ligature-like effect on the "drawstring" area of the pouch, which started out as annoying, but at the end of the commute was akin to Satan's fiery fingers cupping your 'nads.

Apparently at my age, friction + heat = swelling, making the walk into the house more of a duckwaddle.  A line of discarded clothing could be traced from the back door to the closest bathroom, whereupon a shower hose set on "Arctic" was inverted and used to good effect on the undercarriage.

A surprising degree of restraint was shown in not using the kitchen sink sprayer...

So, now the subject is horizontal, with a towel-wrapped gel icepack near to hand.  Things are returning to normal, and there's some shopping for skivvies to be done.