There's No Pleasing That Woman

Out On the Water


What do you get for a woman who thinks she should have everything? A Lexus.

I figure the conversation went like this:

"Edward, I need another Lexus."
"What's wrong with the last one?"
"I don't like the color."
"You picked it out."
"Now I want a blue one."
"Fine, but you've got to let me pick out the license plate."

The Ghost Of George

Off The Rails

I'm no electrician. I'm no plumber. Not a tile-man; a carpenter; a drywall guy. However, when the folly of man faced the power of Katriana, I put on several hats to get my house in order.

This morning, George came fumbling through my electrical system.

George is the name of the former owner of my house. He was responsible for many of the weird things we had to rework/rerun/rewire/repair over the pre-Katrina years. If my wife heard me yelling "George! What the hell is this?" she knew I'd discovered another of his shortcuts.

10 years ago, the lights went out in the bathroom. It wasn't a fuse. It was a broken wall socket. George had left me with a bad plug that looked oddly repaired when I pulled it out of the wall. I replaced it and all was well.

This morning the lights went out in the bathroom. 10 years after the fact, and 4 years after Katrina, the repaired wall socket was the last thing on my list to check. Circuit breaker? Nope. Wall switch? Nope. Safety socket in bathroom? Nope. Light fixture in closet? Nope. Outside socket? Nope. Wiring in attic? Nope. After an hour and a half of removing, testing, and re-installing each of these items, I decided to use a circuit tracer to follow the live lines in the walls. Where did it lead me? Yep. That same old wall outlet I repaired 10 years ago. Back then it was easy to reach. Now it's behind a bookshelf. But there it was when I pulled it out the wall. Sparks and ozone.

Granted, George didn't do this one. I did it. I installed the socket incorrectly and it took 10 years to fail. But George's ghost still haunts this home. Somehow, I know he was whispering in my ear when I installed that outlet 10-years ago "Bill. You don't need to tighten that coupler. Just stick the wire in there and forget it."

Curse your spirt, George.

I'm Not In Right Now...

Cajun Creativity

Here's an idea for an invention: A Carry-Around Answering Machine.

I've been inundated with requests for my time, lately. It's not just being a husband and a father, but someone whom everyone thinks is their "go-to" guy.

For some reason of late, I've noticed people using this theme in their conversations with me: "Bill, I have this great idea! Could you..." or "Bill, would it be possible if you" or the worst of all "Bill, could you come up with something for..." The last one is my favorite. It's not even a task for me to do. I'm being asked to come up with the idea of how to do it. Not only will my performance be judged, but the idea I came up with will be judged as well. Just great.

I think I'll just hide from the "Bill-Could-You" people. Lacking my ability to hide in plain sight, I'd like a Carry-Around Ansering Machine. It'll work just like a telephone answering machine, except it'll have a microphone and three or four messages buttons for me to press when I'm approached.

Here's how it would work:
"Dad, can you help me with..."
I press Button 1: "Sorry I can't come to your attention right now, but I'm busy watching TV. Please leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you during the next commercial break."

"Bill, sorry to interrupt..."
Button 2: "I'll be with you in just a moment. Please leave your plea for help at the tone, go somewhere else, and when I'm done making up things to do that have no significance whatsoever, I'll think about getting back to you."

"Bill, I have this great idea. Could you..."
Button 3: "I'm sorry but my in-box is full. Please try again later."

"Honey, did you remember to..."
Button 4: "Dearest Wife, Please leave a message..." (I'm not sure the machine would be playing anything coherent at this point as it would be lodged in my nether regions)

That's Not Cheese!

Out On The Water...

In the former building of "World's Healthiest Pizza", we now have NAKED Pizza.

The word is in green and there's a great deal of basil growing in the front window. I'm dubious.

The former occupant of this building, "World's Healthiest Pizza" was my candidate for "World's Nastiest Crust." I signed up on WHP's web site for a discount coupon. After eating that pizza, I sent them a message begging them to take me off of their mailing list. The message was simple: "I would no longer like to receive mailings from your store." What I meant to say was "Your pizza is inedible. The dough tastes like someone pulverized cereal boxes and baked it into a tough nasty disc and covered it up to hide that fact."

I love pizza. I love it so much I've been making my own for 15 years. I have a great recipe for sauce and a mind-blowing-great one for Italian sausage. Guests at my home rave about how good it is. Some women are no longer allowed in my home for their unwelcome advances after eating my pizzas. (wife's rules)

I'll have to try this place to see if they're running a new recipe. I hope to God they are.

A co-worker says it's good pizza. But then, he said the same thing about the last occupants of this building.

Hint: Either serve good food, or file for bankruptcy.


Mired In Mud

I have to say that I miss the former occupants of the building "The Bayou Bagelry". Them was some fine bagels. They got lost in the 2005 flood. If they'd put a tomato basil sauce on a bagel, topped it with pepperoni and cheese, now THAT would be a good pizza. *sigh*

FREE DIRT! FREE DIRT! FREE DIRT!

Out On The Water...

I don't see this very often. Scratch that, I've never seen this before.

It's funny the things that come to mind when you see things like this in the street. Here's some of the things that popped into my head:

1) Am I going to get killed by trying to make a U-Turn on Claiborne Avenue to get a shot of this?

2) I thought it was SUPPOSED to be free.

3) Damned Real Estate market really HAS crashed.

4) I wasn't aware that Dirt had been arrested.

5) If only I had my Hot Wheels cars, I'd make some neat tracks in that.

6) Just how badly do these people need to gossip?

The Happiest Place On Earth Has It's Hand In My Wallet

Swamp Gassing

I am the target audience for Walt Disney World. I'm a Dad. Nevermind all the glitz and glamour, they just want me to keep moving from one line to the next while they siphon funds off of my credit cards.

Why would anyone want to go to this place? Me? I went there because my daughter's school performed in the Magic Kingdom parade during Mardi Gras week. I denied my children's requests to go to WDW for more than a decade for all the reasons that I found to be true. Mostly, it's too long of a wait for too little reward.

Well, I did have a little fun. Then again, that's the problem. I had a little fun.

The good news is, it'll be 2 years before I have to go again!

Just a word of advice, if you're in Tomorrowland, be sure to talk to Push. My Buzz Lightyear score improved dramatically.


Gator Gaffs

Today's major mishap was when I spilled my bottle of water. All over the desk, some work papers, the company keyboard, and so forth. I got it all cleaned up fairly well.

The fun came when my monitor started turning itself on and off. Apparently, the water ran down the screen and into the controls. It took me half an hour to dry the flat screen monitor. I unplugged it and did a small bit of shaking. However, I got the most water out by wrapping my lips around the lower corner of the screen and sucking the water out of the crevices. I was surprised by how much got in there. The monitor seems to be okay, but for an hour afterwards, it would turn itself off and on. Again, glad my office is not the most visited.