I think we need a lifetime cap on the number of times a person can be robbed in their lives. This time they got into our storage space up the road. They didn’t take much, my silverware chest and the good silverware in there, maybe some tools.
The frustrating thing is that as we prioritize our money, there is just no place to put a replacement silverware chest and silverware. Even if our budget were bigger I could never justify it in my head, we just don’t need it, not at all. Fancy dinner parties are going to be extremely few and very far apart in the coming years and the money would be better spent on goat medicine or sparkle shoes.
I’m trying to look on the bright side of this. They didn’t find and take the china, it was my mother’s and it would kill me to lose it. I didn’t lose something I very much need, like in 2011 when someone broke into the house and stole my laptop (among other things). It’s just silverware, in the scheme of things it’s not a big deal. So why am I crying about it?
The thing that bothers me the most is that I want to punch the fuck out of their faces.
Category Archives: Blab
It’s what I would do
If I had a penis…
When I die and my life flashes before my eyes I am going to pay attention and see just how many conversations I have started with “if I had a penis…” I bet it’s a lot.
If I had a penis, an uncircumcised penis, I would get it tattooed. Oh yes, it would hurt but it would be totally worth it. I would get it tattooed to look like a turtle, the shell and legs on the shaft, pull the foreskin back and put a happy little turtle head and face right up there in the front. Maybe a box turtle or a painted turtle, I don’t know yet.
I would set myself down in front of the tv (I don’t own a tv but if I’m going to go through the trouble of having a penis and tattooing that penis I’d probably be willing to spring for a tv and also cable) in my complete nudity suit. Then I would flip back and forth between porn and C-Span. Back and forth…. rubbery sexy times…. live broadcast of the House ways and means committee… silicon bounce bounce bounce… filibuster fever… insincere excitement… insincere outrage….
Back and forth I would go and there it would be, my little turtle penis poking his head out and then back in. Back and forth, in and out, he would look at the world with great interest and then run and hide. Bwoop! Turtle comes out, turtle goes in, turtle comes out, turtle goes in.
It would only work for a little while. Eventually I would just end up with a messed up fetish issue. “I’ll be Lincoln! You be Douglas! Let’s debate ALL NIGHT LONG!!!” Then I would try to serve 2 terms in sexual congress.
Pooph
Hey, guess what!
moon boots.
Pocket Djomm
I want to program a key stroke that will insert the text:
Holy crap! It’s been a long time! Sorry, I’ve been doing…
Because, seriously, it’s stupid for me to keep typing that. Also, it is stupider to think it matters that I acknowledge my lameness.
We sat a farm. Actually, we did farmsitting but my ability to construct this concept into a grammatically acceptable sentence eludes me. We did the sitting of a farm.
Kristin went out of town for the weekend and we were charged with keeping 7 sheep, 6 goats, 2 cows, a llama, a farm dog and 2 cats alive and healthy and we met with success!
It was easier than I expected it to be. I read a LOT of Jame Harriot as a kid and everything I know about farms and livestock comes from that. What I know for sure is that if the weather gets really bad forces will conspire against you so that you have no choice but to be elbow deep in a sheep’s vagina at 2am. I’ve been learning a lot lately and I think the single most important lesson I have learned so far is: insert arm slowly and carefully to avoid rupturing the vagina.
I might get that tattooed on my arm so that I never forget.
Over the course of that weekend we ate pork shoulder, pork cops, bacon and sausage from the pig that so graciously gave his life so that we might get fat on it. It was pretty damned delicious (except I overcooked the pork chops).
Chester and the cats did NOT get along. I’m not surprised about this, he doesn’t get along with most animals. BUT! Introduce a common enemy and BOOM!! He and the cats are a horribly coordinated and pretty useless team! A little red squirrel had managed to find a way into the house and would come out on regular foraging trips. The cats are still pretty young and the squirrel was too big for them to handle, they knew that. OH! But that squirrel wasn’t too big for Chester! Perfect size for Chester and with the cats and Chester on the case you’d think something would have been accomplished. You’d think that. Mostly, it was a slapstick comedy routine best suited for Perfect Strangers.
Flanagan, the resident leviathan of a dog did not care one bit about any of it and couldn’t even be bothered to lift his head or turn his ears during the chaos.
The house was heated on a wood stove and mostly we had it running well, not wasting wood or anything. I will tell you, however, that by the time morning comes around and the stove has burned down, the chill of the tile floor in the bathroom is so cold your pee will force its way up into your lungs and you will die of hypothermia and pee drowning. So cold, so very very cold.
David did most of the hard work, hauling water from the house to the barn (the well pump thingy was frozen), fighting off the belligerent be-testicled sheep, busting ice out of water troughs and generally being very good at the things that needed to be done. I spent my time making oatmeal, slipping and falling on the ice, drinking beer and hugging the livestock.
This was a real confidence booster for me. It’s different from anything I’ve done before but mostly it makes sense to me and with guidance I know it is a thing we can do. And I couldn’t be happier to do it with anyone but David.
More pics here.