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ROACH WARS

Chapter 3 –  The Adventure Continues (you needn’t search, there are no chapters 1 or 2…this is like Star Wars!)

roachesI did post previously regarding my neighbors to the South (we live in a common-wall townhouse) who were evicted after it was discovered they have lived in filth for two years, were hoarders and were running a puppy mill, illegally!  And, after they vacated, so did their German roaches.

To OUR place!

The owner/landlady of the neighboring roach nest promised us she’d pay for ALL necessary extermination, etc.  She has spend thousands having hundreds of bags of trash, dog feces, and even the built-in appliances removed from her rental.  One of the bug guys told me when he moved the washer and dryer, there were dead and dying roaches TWO INCHES DEEP underneath!

YUM!

They came and sprayed our place twice.  The first time very thoroughly, including the front outside and our small back yard.  The second time was kind-of a perfunctory, yeah yeah, we gotta spray again thing.  We did tell them they couldn’t dust inside the walls due to my roommates asthma.  Apparently, they took this as some kind of insult.

The incursion has lessened since they finished next door – after TWELVE (12) VISITS!  But, the roaches have obviously established a beachhead here, and we needed to take further action.

As instructed, we contacted the exterminator to discuss our options.  They said they would need to speak with the landlady for additional authorization, which was fine.  But, they were very rude, as if they no longer wanted the money!?

So J. made an executive decision (after all, we’re living in her place).  We went to a do-it-yourself bug place, instead.

Since Thursday last, we have been following instructions, removing all items from the kitchen cabinets in preparation of cleaning, spraying, drilling holes in the kickplates for special chemicals, and finally washing and replacing everything, and leaving bait.  And we’re ALMOST done.

What A MESS!

BUT, this is certainly more thorough than the ‘professional’, and promises to give us more relief.

Or kill us…

 

Another ‘Special Interest’?

Australian judge says incest may no longer be a taboo

Via avordvet
Judge in Australia says incest may no longer be a taboo and the only reason it is criminal is potential birth abnormalities, which can be solved by abortion

A judge in Australia has been criticised after saying incest may no longer be a taboo and that the community may now accept consensual sex between adult siblings.
Judge Garry Neilson, from the district court in the state of New South Wales, likened incest to homosexuality, which was once regarded as criminal and “unnatural” but is now widely accepted.
He said incest was now only a crime because it may lead to abnormalities in offspring but this rationale was increasingly irrelevant because of the availability of contraception and abortion.
“A jury might find nothing untoward in the advance of a brother towards his sister once she had sexually matured, had sexual relationships with other men and was now ‘available’, not having [a] sexual partner,” the judge said.
“If this was the 1950s and you had a jury of 12 men there, which is what you’d invariably have, they would say it’s unnatural for a man to be interested in another man or a man being interested in a boy.Those things have gone.”

I had some had concerns about multiple marriages following in the footsteps of gay marriage.  Some of those folks have surfaced judicially.  And the NAMBLA folks have also jumped on the bandwagon.
This is the the libertarian conundrum – if every human has rights, including minors, how much can the State infringe on those rights for the protection of all?

…and then, they died of an overdose…

My good friend Old NFO discussed this most recent of ‘infamous’ drug deaths.  I was reminded of the PBS Series on JAZZ.  They’d mention some historic jazz figure, and then, more often than not came this line:

…and then, they died of an overdose…

So sad.

Is it the artistic personality, fame, fortune or humanity which binds all these folks together?  Are we all, at our core, addicts of some sort?  (Wikipedia – List of Drug/Alcohol related deaths)

I come rife with an addictive personality.  I have excess weight, due to compulsive overeating.  I’m neurotic, but not particularly artistic.  My real mother died when I was in grade school as a direct result of her cigarette addiction.  She had emphysema. ( I remember her turning off the oxygen tank and lighting up!)  My father was an alcoholic, ate too much and smoked cigars.  I come by my addictions honestly.  Even though I’m getting ‘help’ for my addictions, in all seriousness, I don’t expect to see 85, like my maternal grandfather did.  My fraternal grandfather made it to 68.  My own father to 61.

I’m 61.

Today is my daughter’s birthday.  She would have been 31.  Auto accident, age 12.

At least it wasn’t drugs or alcohol.  :-(

I love and miss you Molly!Molly birthday1

“Driving Mr. Guffaw” (an after-action report)

SO…

After three previous abortive attempts, Bob and I made it to the desert, yesterday.  It was unseasonably warm (81*- sorry Rev. Paul and Gloria!).  There was enough breeze to keep the sand flies at bay, but not enough to knock over targets.

That was in part because Bob brought his recently acquired steel targets!  That 3″  wide roll of masking tape in my range bag was unnecessary!

IMAG0182

And the best part of the trip (as my car – the 2000 Olds Intrigue – is not running very well), Bob took it upon himself to pick me up, drive us to the shooting location, then lunch, then back home.  Just one trip one direction was at least an hour, mostly freeway!   :-P

I, of course, shot my National Match 1911 and S&W 442 (electroless nickel).  Bob shot his Glock 19, 21, and his 10″ bbl SIG 556 SBR!  Both with and w/o the can!  (He let me shoot them, as well!)

Then, we went up the road to Rock Ridge* Springs – a famous desert freeway pit stop – for lunch and homemade pie!  All-in-all a good day…

EXCEPT, due to my not shooting very often, my skills have deteriorated.  I sense more dry practice in my future.

*a Blazing Saddles reference.  I always wanna call Rock Springs Rock Ridge!

attn FTC – we bought our own pie.  Get your own!

The Libertine Party

I’m a pretty liberal guy.  In the classical sense, not the liberal = progressive = socialist = communist sense.  As a libertarian, I think adults should be able to make their own lives; their own decisions…

As long as doing so doesn’t affect others, negatively.

You wanna smoke weed?  In your own home?  As long as it doesn’t waft into my back yard, it’s okay with me. You want to marry three other adults?  Change your State law and have at it.  Just remember how complex (and costly) the divorcing of two of them will be!

But, I draw the line at abusing children.  Yes, you should be able to raise your children as you see fit, and perhaps one or two smacks on the bottom to get their attention might be necessary.  When they are four.  But, not when they’re 18, or nude, or with the use of a studded belt.  That’s beyond the pale, for me.

Speaking of abusing children:

Child Trauma Expert: Pro-Pedophilia Groups Are ‘Grooming’ Public to Accept Adult-Child Sex

NO.

PS – Why does NAMBLA still exist?  The North American Man Boy Love Association promotes sexually abusing children.  Why hasn’t your government used RICO to shut them down and absorb their funds? And imprison the miscreants.  Certainly a continuing criminal enterprise?

Sometimes, The Runner Stumbles

(NO, not the underrated Stanley Kramer film with Dick Van Dyke in a non-comedic role!)

I should have said, “Sometimes, the cripple falls – and food is less than perfect!”

A few days ago, J. left for California to assist her older sister who had just lost her husband.  This left me again in the role of Dog Wrangler, and caretaker of the homestead.  I’m okay with that.

Now, I’m a pretty self-sufficient guy, considering I’m on minimal disability and have some physical ‘issues’. Long time readers remember ‘Ed’, aka the really big shoe, which helps me to walk, unquasimodo-like (?)

Most of the time.  Once in a great while, it doesn’t.  Thursday, I just came in the front door when my right ankle turned and my 3 1/8″ built-up shoe went sideways.  And I went down.

pyramidNow, normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal, as my roommate would be there to assist.  But, she’s assisting her sister in California.  and the three amigos (chihuahuas) don’t have the muscles or skills to block-and tackle me back to vertical.  It would be like mice building the pyramids!

So, it took a bit for me to get up.  Inventory bones and joints to make certain nothing is sprained or broken – CHECK!  Pull myself over to the stair landing (next-to which I’d conveniently fallen) to get a purchase, and VIOLA’!

Some bruising and minor abrasions, muscle pain, and EVERYTHING hurt.  More than usual.

Thank the gods for ibuprofen!  And a short nap.  After all, walking in the door takes great effort.  So much for the plans I had to vacuum and dust on Thursday!  (Hooray!)

About an hour later, I awakened to a telephone call from a good friend in Chicago.  This reminded me of yet another task I had on my list.  PORTILLOS recently opened just a few miles away!

For the uninitiated, Portillos is a famous Chicago Hot Dog chain.  Visions of Chicago beef, hot dogs and Polish sausages went through my addled brain.  I’d not had a good red hot in some months!  Hmmm…..

SO, bent, but unbroken, I made my way to the car, and found out some additional muscles used for ingress and egress of said vehicle were also involved in my fall.  Ouch!  Nothing serious, though.  And off to Portillos!

What a place!.  Think Arnold’s from TV’s Happy Days on steroids.  Clean, well organized, busy.  At 2:00 in the afternoon!  Glad I didn’t come for dinner on a Saturday!

Quick, efficient service.  Good looking food.  BUT lukewarm.

It was still tasty, but would have been 75% better in my estimation had the Polish been steaming hot and fries as well.  And if the poppy-seeded bun didn’t look as it I’d fallen on it!  The malt was excellent, chocolaty and malty.  And cold.  At least they were consistent, temperature-wise!

I do plan on going back, to try the onion rings, and maybe the Italian beef.  But Yelp will get my opinion, one way or another.

Perhaps I’ll clean house Friday (having written the draft Thursday)…

PS – It’s Sunday, still haven’t cleaned!  :-)

FTC – get your own Chi-town food.  I paid for mine.

Please Keep ANOTHER Good Thought!

Larryor a prayer, if you do so.

My stepsister’s husband, a retired Army LTC, ‘Larry’,mentioned before in these pages, has finally returned to Fairbanks, AK.(their home) after six months of care at Seatac for kidney and heart ailments!

He will be in rehab there at another facility for probably six weeks, minimum. He’s lost much muscle mass, and is currently using a wheelchair.  He is mentally alert, giving orders to his adult son about prepping his home for the oncoming Alaska Winter.  Hopefully, he will walk, yet again.

He did multiple tours in Vietnam in his youth and deserves our very best.  In his retirement, he has been working for the American Red Cross.  Definitely not one to rest on his laurels!

PS – THANK YOU Jason, for checking in on him!  You’re the BEST.

You’ll Never Be A Ninja!

no ninjas“You’ll never be a ninja!”

I used to announce this, dripping with irony and humor, at my former workplace, usually to the women whose fashion choices included clogs, sandals, and stiletto heels.  All of which I thought were designed to make the loudest and most annoying sounds possible.  Repetitively.

(Unless you count the folks who sit at their desk, and unwrap their (snacks, lunch, spare socks, etc.) contained in those plastic grocery bags!  It would take them five minutes of incessant rustling just to extricate the object. Then another five to roll close the $%^*&^^$#% bag!)

Initially, we were required to wear dress shoes, but eventually, the East Coast management figured out we were largely more casual here in Arizona, and kept making up pointless contests wherein we peons could ‘win’ the privilege of dressing ‘casually’.  We went from white shirts, ties and dress Oxfords, to chinos, polo shirts and athletic shoes.  And sometimes even blue jeans!

But the women continued to largely wear noisy footwear.

When I was in my 20s, even with my physical limitations, I thought I could be pretty stealthy.  Two years of karate and all.  And I lived in athletic shoes.  Quietly.

Now, being medically retired, I live in Wranglers, colored T-shirts, and my orthopaedic shoes.  One built up to accommodate my leg disability.  And, as I put more weight on the opposite foot, that shoe tends to wear out sooner.

And now is making squeaking noises.

I’ll never be a ninja.

Karma is a bitch!

A PAPERLESS Society?

When I worked at my last job, we did many things on a computer terminal.  I was there over 20 years, and saw many changes.  Of course, as the technology evolved, so did our machines – usually about 4 years after everyone else did.

They kept harping about A PAPERLESS SOCIETY, but kept us using paper and printing on it.  More electronically, but, eventually paper was involved.

Now, my roomie prefers the really soft, cushy roll of paper.  You know the kind – advertised by cartoon bears in the woods.  Sadly, roll it about two-times-over and one is down to the cardboard tube.  Time to change the roll.

tpI prefer the 1000 sheet-single-ply.  If they could, they’d rate it with a sandpaper grit number.  More sheets; don’t have to change the roll as frequently.

My experience is the female-of-the-species prefers as my roomie does.  Better soft than abrasive.

This has evolved into two roll dispensers in the main bathroom, his and hers.  And ‘roll follies’ when one roll is needed upstairs, but the reloads are downstairs.  But, all-in-all, we work it out.

As we humans know, unless one is in a less-civilized part of the World, eventually, paper is involved.

Christmas Gift Idea!

For that little glow-in-the-dark child in all of us…

 Gilbert U-238 Atomic Energy Lab

Only available from 1951-1952, this science kit for CHILDREN included 4 types of uranium ore, a Geiger counter, a comic called “Dagwood Spits The Atom” and a coupon for ordering MORE radioactive materials. One of the four uranium ores included was Po-210 (Polonium) which, by mass, is 250,000 times more toxic than hydrogen cyanide. “Merry Christmas Kevin, here’s that giant box of poison you asked for.”
This gem came my way via my roomie’s ex-husband, who is currently fighting a cancerous tumor in his sinuses.  Please keep a good thought, or pray for him, if that’s what you do.  And yes, his name is…wait for it…DAVE!
"One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas - how he got in my pajamas I dunno!" - Groucho Marx as Captain Spaulding in Animal Crackers

This election is not about who gets voted off the island.
It’s about who is at the tiller of this Republic’s Ship of State. - Guffaw

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The Four Rules

1. ALL GUNS ARE ALWAYS LOADED.

2. NEVER POINT YOUR MUZZLE AT SOMETHING YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO DESTROY.

3. KEEP YOUR FINGER OFF THE TRIGGER UNTIL YOUR SIGHTS ARE ON THE TARGET AND YOU ARE READY TO SHOOT.

4. KNOW YOUR TARGET AND WHAT'S BEYOND.

Certified EVIL!

FEAR

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain." - Bene Gesserit, from Frank Herbert's Dune

Penn Jillette

“F**k Civility. Hyperbole, passion, and metaphor are beautiful parts of rhetoric. The marketplace of ideas cannot be toned down for the insane.” - Penn Jillette

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