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Past Parity

Monday, January 30, 2006

Mini-the moocher or a hail to all my padded helmet window licking brethren

My title is at least a little bit of a reference to Pie’s one from yesterday (dang she beat me to it). Families can’t live with them, can’t get them to stop calling, no matter how hard you try.

So plans are afoot for me and Pie to return to bloke-ville (the UK) around May to coincide with our 11th anniversary (that really is beginning to blow my mind). We’re hoping to stay in a better class of hotel then the toe nail under the sheets type we usually do, or at least the toe-nail is from a slightly better class of person. To get myself in the mood I’ve been reading Bill Bryson’s book ‘Notes from a Small Island’ which is a travel book about him going across the UK. It’s one of the few books which can make me laugh out loud.

I got kind of surprise a couple of weeks ago when I found a long lost Cries of Tammuz jam tape from the very end of the band which had three songs which were WIP at the time it all feel apart. I miss my time in that band a lot when I remember all the shows we did, but then I remember all the horrible bits as well and stop romanticizing about it. It’s funny because I’ve known Paul (Nemeth) since I was 16 when we met working in a Supermarket together (how many bands can claim that) and he’s mellowed out so much since Tammuz broke up. When I was in Tammuz, Pie found it hard being around him as we was so high strung but now he’s the first one she wants us to look up when we return to the UK.

Oliver has been regularly watering our new floor since it was put in. He must feel it’s lacking some moisture because he seems to be very methodically covering every bit of it as he finds a patch not to his liking. Pie just listens to for the sound of my uncontrollable sobbing or swearing to figure out when the ‘Phantom Piddler’ has struck.

Modern Union has a couple of great candidates currently auditioning, one who I especially like (not saying which one though). I think we’re going to stop looking and just try and narrow it done between them.

spoke Rob at at 4.20pm | permalink | 3 comments

Monday, January 16, 2006

What if God was one of us…you’d think he be a little embarrassed

So again Pat Robertson has opened his mouth and reaffirmed himself to be the idiot we all knew him to be. I find the logic that a morbidly obese 77 year old who suffers a stroke is Gods’ punishment a little flawed. Usually when an old man gets sick we subscribe it to……well being a fat old man. So by his logic when he ends up taking a dirt nap he’ll be punished for something he did as well, regardless of the fact he may 100+ at the time. I once heard the wages or sin are death which is kind of an illogical comment, as the wages of clean living is death as well and ironically perhaps at an earlier stage (only the good die young and all).

Maybe God was taking a break when he was mouthing off and missed the opportunity to hit the smite button on his desk. I recently wonder if God has a couple of buttons on his desk ‘Lite smite’ and ‘Mighty smite’ depending on the situation. Lite smite if depressed may end up with say tripping over or stubbing you toe. If mighty smite was used say your house could burn down or a beloved relative or poodle may die.

Last week I was walking out to the garage and noticed my foot got wet when I stepped on the carpet. I just assumed Oliver was up to his usual tricks until I realized it smelled like water. I pulled back the carpet and found all the underlay way soaking and there was mold growing under it. Once the ambulance crew left and I started breathing normally again we called a plumber who told us the one leak was in the dog. It seems Oliver had been habitually peeing back there for so long it had soaked all the way through (he’s nothing other then methodical), so when I steam cleaned the carpet it had actually helped the mold grow.

We had a mold removal company come out and the had to cut out an 8 foot stretch of carpet to get rid of the mold. Pie and I pulled out our beaten checkbook and ended up pony-ing up to re-floor most of the downstairs with laminate. Although the end result looks great I still wince a little at the cost, but we had to get it done either way I guess.

One of the funniest thing was I kept Nugget home with me when the flooring installers came (Oliver went to the doggy spa for a paw pumice) who were both Romanian. I’d hear the talking back and forth every once in a while I’d hear “xxxxx xxx xxxxxx dachshund xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx”, they were probably comparing notes on which dogs not to buy….or maybe how they taste.

Modern Union is still looking for a singer so if you know anybody……

spoke Rob at at 4.30pm | permalink | 1 comment