I was so worried about closing out my parenthesis and not putting “minkey” for “monkey” I screwed up the coding. If I "Preview"ed I might have caught it. Just let that be a lesson to all of you.
-Rue. (lessony)
KARR = Knight Automated Roving Robot
Evil Michael = Garthe Knight
How sad is it that I knew this without having to look it up?
Well, Bumbazine, I have a lot of monopoly stuff. I collect it see and I have our whole den filled with it. I have over 40 different monopoly games and I have clothing, model cars and trains, glasses, and other assorted paraphenalia. I also have some one of a kind display pieces that were custom made for monopoly demos that kind people have given me over the years.
But the bathroom is especially exciting for me. I have a monopoly shower curtain with hooks that look like little tokens. I have monopoly towels and a free parking bath rug. My tooth brushes sit in a holder that looks just like the shoe token, soap is in a wheelbarow token, cotton balls hide in a scotty dog token, liquid soap pumps from the money bag token and a huge thimble is my cup.
Some people, like my mother in law, think I’ve flipped and gone too far! I say hey it’s my bathroom and I hate lame floral crap and think the sea shell/ocean theme is overdone.
Hey, we’re back, too. Back to the land of (relatively) high speed internet and no beaches. Which should increase my non-productive productivity. It was a two day ride back, with very little poetry involved. Although we did listen to “A Light in the Attic” (Shel Silverstein?) on CD a couple of times, plus “Tales of Wisdom and Wonder”. We spent the night on the way back near McDonough, Georgia, which has an incredible number of decent restaurants for such a podunk town. On Sunday we stopped over for a couple of hours at Jefferson City, Tennessee. My SIL has wild turkeys that like to walk through her front yard.
As for self assembled furniture, I avoid that as much as possible these days. Although there is a sale on papasan chairs at Pier 1, and my kids were digging the papasan chair at the rental condo. So I may have to get one and I suppose that setting the bowl on the pedestal and then adding the cushions might constitute construction.
What was with the horse thing, Rue?
tanookie, I think that is very cool. Seriously.
And now for the obligitory semi-joke:
The bathroom is especially exciting for me too, but for different reasons. (Not that, you pervs.)
In the “measure once, cut twice” area - the guy who is building our shed seems to belong to the “measure 10 times, cut once” school of thought. This thing is taking him forever and a day!
I saw a run-over armadillo. It was exciting.
What can I say? Most of my friends are Classics or ancient language students. I really can’t think of many better ways to make twenty-two hours pass than to read plays. It sure beats even the enormous excitement of roadkill bingo.
At least I don’t have to share a brain with anyone, welby. I’ve got my very own.
“Geek”. I’m not a “geek”. “Geeks” are people who know the internal structure of the Enterprise and can build their own Transformers. I am a nerd.
You see, people? That’s why you should always use dead trees when building things. Took me forever to learn that one, let me tell ya…
Nerds are delightful little tart candies with a sugary outer shell. I don’t know what you think you are Lissla.
The horse thing was… oh, like I have to have a reson (let alone a good reason) for the things I do. I’m one big performance art experience. It’s not like I have whiskey walking through my front yard or anything.
-Rue. (performing)
Pfft, Michael Knight. Everyone knows Devon was better, very smooth and sophisticated. Plus he was a sea captain’s ghost, how cool is that? Although possibly I’m remembering a different series… it’s hard to tell with this aging brain of mine.
Rue, I hope you’re keeping the spare parts from your do-it-yourself furniture kits. They really come in handy sometimes. Like the time I accidentally stepped on a bolt while assembling a desk, bent it all to heck. And I wasn’t wearing shoes so my foot didn’t look too good either. Flesh heals but the bolt didn’t. Luckily I had a spare from a previous kit so all was well.
Lately I’ve been deconstructing some of my old do-it-yourself furniture so I can throw it out. The garbage persons prefer smaller chunks of stuff so return it to it’s constituent parts. I throw out the woody stuff but I keep the hardware, if it’s in good shape. You never know.
I also snip the buttons off of old shirts before making them into rags or throwing them out, whichever I feel like.
Doesn’t anyone else do this sort of thing? Or am I just a weirdo?
(Actually, even if someone else does, that doesn’t necessarily rule out weirdo.)
-after previewing
You could have whiskey walking through your front yard, Rue. I mean if Whiskey was a big, brown, shaggy dog, say. He’d be real friendly, I bet, and mellow. A real furry sweetheart he is. You should post a picture sometime and let us see him.
-just cementing my reputation as a weirdo
My children were part of the trip team. Which rules out ancient languages and classics, although there were several conversations in “kitty cat language”. Plus, for some reason which eludes me, several well spirited choruses of “Stop, drop and roll. Stop, drop and roll…”
Don’t worry, Rue, I got the whiskey reference and I’m sure that welby did, too.
Also, dwyr, if you leave whole furniture out at the curb the furniture faeries will often come and take it away. At least they used to in our old neighborhood. Some wood faeries even once hauled away a tree that I cut down.
You know, it really is a shame that a whole garage of tools doesn’t get to do anything. Think of the self-esteem problems these tools may develop–left alone to wonder why they no longer have the chance to build things, denied the presence of Bumbazine (who surely must be seen as a role model, even a mentor, by the tools), trying to figure out what they did wrong, what they did to deserve to be unused. I wouldn’t be surprised if they turned their skills to a bad end, just to get some sort of attention. The bandsaw randomly cutting any wood that came near it, nails driving themselves into tires and tennis shoes, the lathe holding on to children’s toys or garden supplies, screwdrivers burying themselves in the walls, and the hammer pointless hitting its head against the floor. Oh such waste. They have such potential, and to see it go astray. Tsk, tsk.
It’s too bad that there isn’t any other way for these tools to feel needed and useful. I mean, if you have enough furniture already, you have enough furniture–there’s nothing that can be done. If you Bumbazine were to continue to make furniture–just for the sake of the tools–the furniture would go to waste, it would have no home.
Unless . . . no, that wouldn’t work, no.
But . . . what if, let’s just say that someone . . . maybe me, for instance . . . could find a home for the furniture–say a bookcase or two, a TV stand, maybe a blanket chest–then the tools would have a purpose again. Their lives would be filled with meaning and success, and they would not have to turn to mayhem and destruction! I mean, I would be willing–for the sake of the furniture, mind you–to accept pieces of furniture, give it a home. I mean, a tool is a terrible thing to waste.
Just a suggestion, you know. Won’t somebody please think of the tools?
<drafts up nomination for Kallessa as Humanitarian, er, I mean, Toolitarian of the Year for her compassionate, self-sacrificing, noble act.>
I’m a bean bag kind of person. Take it home, throw it on the floor, fall in. Simple… not as your thinking but most times, yes.
As for things…I collect rocks and fossils, arrowheads stuff like you just find laying on the ground for free. Suits my thrills with a kicker.
I don’t think we’ll ever see eye to eye on the geek/nerd thing. Let’s compromise on “dork” and leave it at that.
*Originally posted by Bumbazine *
I used to build furniture, (but not from kits), until Mrs. B. said “We don’t have room for any more furniture!” real loud. So now I have a garage full of tools that don’t get to do anything. sniff
I need a second box bench to go with the one welbywife got me to put together. Hop to. I’ll pay the shipping.
-welby (clever signoff-less)
Of course I keep the “spare parts” dwyr! I have two coffe cans, a mayo jar and a plastic cup full of bits and pieces. They come in handy for all sorts of projects. Although I don’t cut the buttons off old shirts. That’s so girly.
What sort of furniture faerie would want her old furniture after dwyr took all the hardware out Shibb? Sheesh! Think about it.
But if you really have to take your furniture apart, the best way is with a sledge hammer. You don’t get so much hardware salvage, but it is more fun.
I think I should say something to thinline for the post. Only it was pretty complete in itself, so I guess I’ll stick to “Hi thinline!”. (You gotta encourge them, you know.)
-Rue. (encouragey)
I believe the proper term Welby is looking for is Dweek.
I find this handily covers persons of dubious categorization while covering most of the possibilities. People aren’t pigeonholed so easily these days as: nerd, geek, dweeb, dork…
So Dweek it is
Is thinline who Lissla Lissar was visiting in Arkansas? Or is it just a coincidence that we’ve got a newbie posting from Arkansas?
I have no idea. If any of my Arkansas friends started posting, it would probably be with names from some exceedingly obscure bit of Greek mythology. Or something Norse. Or German.
The cat is experimenting with unusual sleeping places- curled up awkwardly on a nearly vertical pillow, on top of the freezer, sideways jammed into a shelf…
I assembled some furniture this past weekend, as it happens. I bled. I bled quite a lot, actually. My sock got all crusty, and I stained the carpet. Fotunately, the carpet-cleaning people were already coming the next day. Did you know that the carpet-cleaning people look at you funny when they have to clean up large bloodstains? You’d think they’d be used to it. It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve had to clean up bloodstains at my place.
I always bleed when I assemble furniture. I think the furniture gods crave blood sacrifice. Do the bean bag gods demand blood sacrifice, thinline? If not, maybe I should switch over. It’s not that I mind bleeding so much, I just don’t like crusty socks.
-Balance (sanguinely)