Dear Universe

Pardon me while I whine.

In the past seven days....

• My debit card was used to charge a reservation at a wrestling camp.. in Oregon. 
• My Paypal account got hacked and used to buy $50 worth of express mail postage to Russia.
• I blew up the electrical system in the RV.

Dear Universe,

ENOUGH ALREADY

Thanks,
Mahala

Tweet

Rusty Robot Monkeys and The Smartass Meets Her Match

It's a cold and blustery day in Frog Pond Holler. Pooh Bear and the gang would feel right at home. I'm curled up on the couch in the girl cave, watching "The Closer" while occasionally glancing out the window hoping to catch a glimpse of the first flakes of winter.

Don't get excited, they're just calling for a mix around noonish.

There was lots of Bossholio drama at The Asylum this week. One of our customers complained that his five year old robot monkey was rusty. Our robot monkeys are supposed to be approved for outdoor use. So Bossholio gave the customer information on the coating we use on our monkeys, to prove that it couldn't possibly be our fault.

Well.

The customer, Spiffybots, called back to say they'd called the monkey paint manufacturer and were told that the coating we use isn't appropriate for use out in the elements.

Bossholio had an "oh shit" moment. Over the past 6 years, when we changed paint, we've sent out umpteenzillion robot monkeys with that paint. Most of which would be used outside.

There were wordy-dirties expelled at high volume. The top of Bossholio's head glowed bright red. After he got off the phone with Spiffybots, he got on the intercom and read off the management roll call and insisted that they all report to his office IMMEDIATELY.

I may have laughed a little. And snorted.

The GM was the first to arrive. He wasn't among those paged and I'm pretty sure Bossholio forgot he was even there. I don't think he would have showed his ass so blatantly if he'd realized it. He looked at Bossholio and said, "Damn Fred. You havin' the big one?"

To make a long story sorta shorter, throughout the course of the day, Bossholio blamed each and every one of the management staff for the problem, had about three hissy fits and crapped assorted farm animals.

It was hard to concentrate on my job, what with all the gigglesnorts coming from my cube.

At the end of the day it was determined that Bossholio had given the wrong information to Spiffybots and that our paint was.. well.. just spiffy.

Also this week at The Asylum, the new PM, Big Red, proved herself a teller of untruths, not to one or two employees, but the entire plant. Her reputation just went down the pipes, like the grand flushing of a ginormous toilet. She has also let her guard down and revealed that she possesses, like all our past PMs, a smart assed mouth and while she loves to dish it out, she never developed the ability to take it.

And... she has met her match. I have no fear. I couldn't care less if I get fired.

I intend to sanitize my mind from thoughts of The Asylum this weekend by getting some stuff listed for my shop and making some new stuff. I've got one finished rug laying here that I need to get on there and I've got some new earring parts to work with.

I hope ya'll have an awesome weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Tweet

Weekends Wear Me Out

Lord have mercy ya'll. This weekend was hard. Not Put-On-A-Dress-And-Go-To-A-Funeral hard or Flush-Your-Goldfish-Down-The-Terlit hard, but Lying-On-Your-Back-Under-The-RV-At-2-In-The-Afternoon hard.

I was trying to run the satellite and ethernet cables through the humpy thing between the seats using an unfolded wire coat hanger, some duct tape and a few strips of denim, instead of leaving them hanging out the passenger side window, seeing how it's been colder than a witch's tit in a brass brassiere at night and I'm in danger of loosing some bits and pieces of womanly flesh that I'd rather hold on to for a few more years.

Also this weekend, I hit Wally World for some spray paint, sprained my back loading a 6 x 8 wooden fence panel onto a cart at Lowe's, made curtains, turned plastic visors into shelves, complete with dangly Gypsy coin trim, sold a pair of earrings and installed a light in the bathroom.

On a side note, my new favoritest thing in the whole effing world is industrial strength double sided tape. OH. MY. GAWD. It's like.. MAGIC.

Anywho...

So tonight, I should be hanging the laundry I washed yesterday, or making earrings, or taking pictures of the rug I recently finished so I can get it listed on Etsy....

But my ass is parked for the evening. I'm tired. Everyone's fed, Ma's drugged and I don't plan on doing anything more strenuous than pushing remote buttons for the rest of the night.

I'll keep you posted. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Tweet

Uppity Neighbors and Know It All Relatives

The leaves are changing on the rolling hills surrounding Frog Pond Holler. Mornings and evenings are cool enough for an extra blanket, but I'm still thankful for the ac most late afternoons.

I love the fall.

I heard from the M.I.A. Cousin H yesterday, asking me how things were going, like he didn't stand me up last weekend. He asked what all else I needed done and he was all, "I'll be there this afternoon!" Which he was. Only he didn't fix anything.

I've asked him about a gazillion times if he could put a sewer tap on the end of the house. His reply was usually, "Daddy says there's one going out to the road right in front of where you have your RV." I've explained to him over and over (and over again) that when his Daddy had his camper parked in our yard (I truly wish I was making this up, but I'm not) he simply dug a hole and stuck the pipe in the ground to give the appearance of a way to responsibly dispose of waste from his camper. It was then implied, on several occasions, by Cousin H, that I was just a silly girl and goodness... why didn't I just hush and let Mr. Big Ol' Mancritter handle it?

This conversation took place again when he called me yesterday, resulting in his showing up at The Asylum, with his pop en tow, after he dug a fresh hole in my front yard where both he and his father SWORE there was a connection to the town sewer supply.

He pretty much said, "Well what do ya know? There was nothing there! They must have taken it out when they fixed the sidewalk."

Sure Cousin H. Tell yourself whatever you need to to keep your burly mountain man nads in tact.

Gawd.

Cousin H then agreed to come install a tap, LIKE I ASKED HIM TO BEGIN WITH, for $50 if I'd go ahead and give him the cash, because he HAD to get some money. Oh.. and he'll do it next weekend. He must have gotten more of that latent Gypsy DNA than I did, because he made it sound like a totally reasonable transaction, right up until he had me call the bank to make sure they'd cash a check for him without I.D.

So anyways, I thought I'd at least go out and spray some of that expand-o-foam stuff on the water leak by the outside spigot so I could run some water to the cave. I had to cut the fence apart, waller the skirting off the trailer and stick my arm in scary places, only to discover that it wasn't a little leak, it was pretty much running out.

I put it all back together and decided to just add it to the list of things I'll have Cousin H do next weekend. If he shows up. I used pink present wrapping ribbon to tie the fence back together. I'd take pictures to show you, but I don't know where my camera is. It might be in one of these piles of stuff I need to put away.

Did I mention that the entire right side of my face is infected? No? I don't know if it's tooth, sinus, throat or ear in origin, but it's kicking my ass.

What's that you say? Go to the doctor?

I have an entire bottle of perfectly good antibiotics that they gave Ma at the E.R. that she refused to take. I don't even know what they're called. But I'm taking them. And resting. Sort of.

I finally hauled the box spring to the dump this morning. My busibody neighbor was there, asking why I was throwing it away. I explained, not that it was any of her effin' beeswax, but it's the way of the holler.

She snarled her nose up and said, "Well I reckon you'll sleep on the floor then won't ya?"

What the hell?

I smiled and explained that there was no problem with the mattress and that I had very nice place to sleep. Nicer than the bed I had in the trailer. I wanted to tell her to go perform carnal acts of a lewd and lascivious nature upon herself, but I didn't have the balls I'm too nice.

I know what's up her booty. There has been some discussion of her and her hubby's distaste with the RV that sat over at the Dubya estate for years. The word "eyesore" was used. When it was hauled away, there was a quiet rejoicing from their house (complete with in ground pool) up on the hill. It was only a couple of weeks later that I rolled up with the girl cave.

I'm sure they felt a twinge of the agony of defeat.

Look. If you insist on living in a town with more campsites than residences withn a ten mile radius, then you need to leave your uppity highfallootiness at the border.

I'm serving up a big heaping helping of the "if-you-don't-like-it-you-can-pucker-up-and-pick-a-cheek" of late.

And it feels kinda nice.

Anywho...

I've got crap to put away and supplies to order. I need to gt back in the swing of things, shop wise. I hope ya'll have an awesometastic weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Tweet

Power Tools, Extension Cords and Baby Bunnies

Oh. My. Gawd. So. Tired.

I've been running around like the proverbial headless fowl for DAYS and I STILL don't have my stuff moved into my new girl cave. First, Cousin H never showed up Saturday to help me finish getting set up. I haven't heard from him at all. I'm not sure what the deal is, but I'm not calling him and asking. Maybe I didn't pay him enough, maybe my crazy is too much to take, maybe he's in jail... I'm not going to worry about it.

I've discovered that nothing that runs on battery works and the outlets are dead in the bedroom. This revealed a new found creativity with extension cords, double sided sticky tape and fluorescent strip lights.

I desperately needed a bed, so I found a state licensed business over in Big City that buys used mattresses from furniture stores (Ever wonder what they did with the old ones they hauled off? Now you know,) bakes them in a ginormous oven for two hours to kill everything then douses them in hydrogen peroxide. I got a queen sized set that was in WAY better shape than what I've been sleeping on for 70 bucks. Unfortunately, I also discovered that a queen sized boxspring will NOT go into an RV sized bedroom.

At all.

Even if you take the jigsaw and chop away some of the trim across the top of the door jam.

*cough*

I should not be left unsupervised in the company of power tools.

Anywho...

The mattress was a struggle, I somehow managed to get it stuck sideways between the ceiling and the floor once I got it in the room, but after some sweat, tears, unintentional flatulence (I was straining ya'll!) I got it in there.

Also? I've made more trips to Lowe's and Walmart than I care to mention. I have heat, but it's LOUD, so I picked up a space heater last night. I still don't have the water hooked up, I need to fix a leak by the spout on the house first, then I'm gonna just run a garden hose to the RV. I have my puter hooked up, complete with innerwebs and a cable running from the passenger side window to Ma's room, in true white trash fashion. I can't get the satellite to work, but our dish is always effed up. I just don't feel like dealing with the dish people right now, so I'm entertaining myself with Netflix for the time being.

I'm still running between buildings to use the bathroom, which is fun and I have NO idea if the hot water heater is even going to work, I needed to go back and read whether it runs off battery power or off the plug.  I do, however, have propane, so I can probably get the stove operational, so I can heat water for cleaning, dishes etc. The Amazon might just have to accept that we'll be sharing a shower a while longer.

We'll see.

And in totally unrelated news and proof that I'm out of my ever lovin' mind, I'm on the waiting list for one of these:

They will be ready (8 weeks old) around November 23rd.

Let's just call it my mid-life crisis. Kay?

We'll talk again soon. Later Taters!

Tweet