Construction Video "Hello Assman!"

Stupid but true

Stupid but true

The other night when Del and I went home from hanging out in his office (we were on break), it was pitch-black dark outside. Remember I told you that living in a trailer renders you completely blind? I’m sticking with that.

Anyway, I was standing behind Del while he was playing some kind of game with the key in the lock. I think that he was going for a high score or something because it was taking him forever to open the door. While he was friggen around with that, there was a very, very, very, very (very to infinity) scary noise coming from the back forty. (The field behind us, remember?)

These weren’t normal night-time noises. You know, your typical cats trying to murder each other or pissed off birds fighting over the prime real-estate branches. This was something that was out for blood. It was something that had a strong desire to eat a human liver in red sauce. It was going to rip and tear the flesh from our bodies while we ran down the dark road, screaming our heads off.

I just know this.

Del was getting pissy about the door lock….

Oh, wait. Before I tell you that, I have to tell you that the door that pissed off our neighbor so bad, that got properly punished for being such a nuisance and banished to the back of the trailer, found it’s way into the living room.

I walked past it for a full day before I noticed it. Yes, that is stupid but true – but not where I was going with this story. This would be a different stupid but true. I guess Del and Dave brought it inside to measure it up and leaned it up against the wall.

I just don’t know why I can’t see that damned thing. I’m afraid once they install it (is that what you do with a door? Install it? I heard Dave use the word “frame” so I’m confused) that I’ll never be able to find my way home again.

So, Del was getting pissy about the door lock because the current door doesn’t fit right so that is screwing the whole thing up. I elected him to unlock it because when I do it, I always seem to skun up (new word) my knuckles on the door frame and that sucks.

When I heard the noise in the back forty of the thing that was about to (at any second, really) jump out and brutally slaughter us – I became one with the back of Del.

He didn’t like that. I was surprised because when you are busy getting pissy with a door lock, don’t you WANT to be shoved into it by your wife?

“What?” He asked me.

“Did you hear that? What the hell is it?” I asked the center of his spinal cord.

“Nothing. Back off me so I can unlock the door.” He said.

It (whatever it was, we still don’t know) made another scary sound from the dark.

“Unlock the door! Hurry up! It’s going to get us!” I yelled at his spinal cord.

“Stop it; nothing is going to get us.” He said.

Hasn’t he ever watched a horror movie? They all say that. And you know who dies first? The screaming, scared girl. She always falls on her face and gets massacred.

I’m a gimp so there is a 100% chance I’m going to fall over. Seeing where I was already screaming and scared, I was toast.

He finally got the door open and I nearly trampled him to get inside.

This experience got me thinking though. Why do people like to be scared shitless? Really, scaring the shit out of people is a multi-million dollar industry. What is it about being scared that people actually enjoy?

When I was a very little kid I was afraid of the dark until my parents asked me why. I told them I was afraid of monsters. They asked me how a monster would get into the house. They even took me outside and told me to try to get in without using the front door or the windows – because those were all locked. I couldn’t think of a single way for the monsters to get in, so I got over being scared of the dark pretty fast.

Our house was monster proof.

Besides, if a monster ever showed up in my room for some odd reason, I was going to show them where Brother Bob slept. That’s why God gave us little brothers, monster food.

Anyway, for years I had nothing that I was afraid of. We were Jehovah’s Witnesses and as such, we were very limited on things like what we were allowed to read (bible materials or school work basically) or what we could watch on the 3 channels of TV that we got back before cable.

Brother and I watched – Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, Three’s Company, The Wonderful World of Disney and America’s Funniest Home Videos.

Yeah, that’s pretty much it. We didn’t have a lot of use for TV because we were busy trying to find someone who wanted to hear *knock-knock* the good news.


Around the time we were 12 or 13, our cousin Cheryl, came to live with us for a very short period of time.

She was the ultimate bad influence but that is a different stupid but true.

So when Cheryl came, she brought along a book. She told me that I would really enjoy this book but it was a grown-up book so we had to hide it from my parents.

I was so sheltered that I couldn’t even begin to imagine what a grown-up book would be other than the book of Revelations.

Have you ever read the book of Revelations? Pretty racy stuff.

*Knock-knock?*

After we were supposed to be in bed, I took out my flashlight (I was so bad, I had a flashlight- I could honor my parents in the daylight) and started to read this book – The Amityville Horror.

First I want to know, are they kidding with this book? Needless to say, I didn’t get very far into the book before I had to get out of bed, go outside, find a shovel and bury that freaking thing in the back yard.

Not kidding, I really did. I was convinced that book was pure evil and if it stayed in the house too long, Brother Bob would burst into flames.

He was monster food, I couldn’t lose him.

My next experience with being scared is really stupid. I’ almost too embarrassed to tell you, but I will.

You remember the music video Thriller?

If Vincent Price ever spoke to me, I’d cross the street.

Hell, I’d leave the state. He could have it.

And when Michael Jackson’s eyes lit up, I nearly had a coronary.

I was at a party with a bunch of my friends when we watched that video for the first time and while everyone else enjoyed it, I was trying not to shit a puppy. Every time my boyfriend looked at me, I said a small prayer in my head that his eyes would stay normal.

They got more blood-shot as the night went on, but they never lit up.

It wasn’t until I saw the making of Thriller that I ever got over it.

Then there was the worst thing ever, the thing that scared me for over two years.

My “friends” still laugh at me for being so scared over it too.

Okay, there was this movie that my friends convinced me to watch because they knew that Halloween scared me to death.

I really don’t understand that holiday at all. It has confused me more than any of the other ones ever have. I think the costume part might be fun (and oh sure, the candy part too) but why do people choose to dress in violent costumes? What’s the matter with something like a duck or lizard or something? Why do people need to have horns and blood, and axes, and knives, and, and, and….

Oh great, now I’m scared.

And recently it has been my understanding that when people go to the door and say “trick or treat” that they don’t have a trick in mind at all.

They go to the door with the entitlement that no matter what, they are walking away with a treat.

That doesn’t seem like a very well thought out threat at all, now does it? “Trick or treat” is an outright threat.

You have to understand my confusion about that because if I was standing on the street and someone walked over to me and said “hand over your wintergreen lifesavers or I’m going to punch you in the face”, I’d believe that I would get punched in the face if I didn’t hand over my lifesavers.

Next Halloween, I’m going for the threat and keeping my candy. They don’t have a follow-up plan.

Okay, so back to the movie my “friends” scared me for two years over. It was an insane movie called “Night of the Living Dead.”

It’s about this accident that spills poison shit into a graveyard (or something, I can’t remember that part) and brings the dead people back to life (oh, that part I remember very well). The dead people walk around eating people’s brains.

I can’t tell you how the movie ends because I never got to the end of the movie. I can tell you how many strands of thread are in my friends’ pillow though because that’s where my head was buried after the first zombie thing bit the first guy in the head.

Tell me, what kind of a twisted mind came up with that kind of a story line? Dead people eating brains? And people ENJOYED watching that? Gross!

Now, how did it scare me for two years after? Well, where I lived at the time was pretty close to a garbage burning place called MERC. Every once in a while MERC would let out steam sounds or something that I could hear at night.

It sounded like it was saying ‘brains’ in a creepy whisper.

I had to move to get over that.

I have never once in my life been scared and enjoyed it. I hate to be scared as much as I hate to be electrocuted. Given a choice, I might just take the jolt, I hate being scared that much.

I am convinced that being scared and liking it is something learned as a child. I don’t know if Brother Bob hates it too because not too much scares him in the first place.

That’s just how monster food thinks.

LYMI

God just loves it when you make plans...

God just loves it when you make plans…

Because when you make plans, he makes it rain for weeks at a time.

See, I said before God hates trailers that live in Florida, he picks them up and throws them into the ocean. I didn’t know he had it out for trailers living in Maine too.

We did slow down on our progress because we can only go as fast as our finances allow us. This week though, we thought we might get some more drywall.

God said “No”.

I said “But God, Stacy in MI sent me some coupons for Home Depot. I want to build a wall.”

God said “Tough, no wall this week.”

You cannot haul drywall in the back of an open pick-up truck in the rain. When drywall gets wet and the guts of the drywall get all gooey and crumbly. You will end up with paper filled mush if you try it.

Another quick drywall lesson I need to share, you cannot help your husband hang drywall on the ceiling by using a broom handle because you’re too short to reach the ceiling. It causes the drywall to develop nipples like a pubescent school-girl. You have to wait for his tall friend to come over to do it.

Anyway like I said Stacy in MI (Thanks! LYMI!) sent me coupons to Home Depot that I really wanted to use before they expired. Del had Friday off from work and there was a break in the rain Thursday night so we thought we’d take our chances and run over to Biddeford Home Deport and grab some drywall.

I mean, we didn’t know he was going to have Friday off so that was a surprise and we had coupons we weren’t expecting so that was a treat and there was a break in the rain so we thought that God was sending us a message that – yes, we could build a wall after all.

All signs pointed to yes, don’t you agree?

Nope, God was saying “Let’s see just how fast you can drive pizza boy.”

It’s kind of our own fault though. We got drywall, joint compound, a thing that goes over the stink pipe sticking out of the roof (it was leaking like a lactating new mother because of all the damn rain), some foam crap to hold that thing down and some more insulation.

They were REALLY good coupons.

So we bought all that stuff, loaded the truck and headed back to the trailer. On the way back, we stopped at Dunkin’ Doughnuts to grab a sandwich to prevent fainting.

Yes, there was a risk of that.

It wasn’t raining and that made us cocky. We were Mr. and Mrs. Cocky-pants, nice to meet you.

It has become a habit for both Del and I to wash our hands every time we are near any sink. We can wash our hands in the trailer but we have to do it in the shower.

Spend one day doing that. You’ll get sick of it pretty quick. The water runs up your arms both shocking and refreshing your armpits every time.

So we went inside Dunkin’ Doughnuts so we could wash our hands. While I waited for Del (his hands are much bigger so it takes him longer) the girl behind the counter asked me if I wanted a bag of free doughnuts because they were going to throw them away.

Uh, yeah. If you take one look at me, you know I’m a girl that doesn’t turn her nose up to a doughnut, ever.

We scored some doughnuts, ordered some sandwiches and chatted with the kids behind the counter for…too long.

My stupid attack was that I saw the freaking lighting outside through the window behind the kids while I was talking to them. I totally blanked on the fact that we had 4 sheets of drywall soaking in the back of the damn truck.

There were doughnuts you understand.

Del and I turned to leave when it dawned on me that it wasn’t just raining, it was pouring. We are talking ‘build an ark and gather the animals’ kind of pouring.

“Shit!” I yelled and started gimping as fast as I could.

“What? Are you that hungry?” Del asked me because he was mid-stupid-attack too.

I was, but that wasn’t the problem.

“Drywall!” I said to him over my shoulder causing him to start moving faster too.

This is not an admission of guilt at all. I too, saw that green pick-up truck screaming down the road in the rain, with some wild-eye, crazy, doughnut-eating chic driving. I’m not sure how the hell she made that corner without putting that truck up on 2 wheels either. But it wasn’t me. I obeyed the laws. Our drywall was just blessed not to become a goopy mess. It’s special, magic drywall.

Right?

The only casualty that night was the doughnuts. When we got into the truck, I had the doughnuts, Del had the sandwiches. When I got into the truck and leaned over across the seat to unlock his door, I squashed them.

They have fewer calories if you squash them. Flatter doughnuts don’t make you fatter.

The drywall is leaning up against the jack that’s holding up the ceiling in the living room. You’d be surprised how much water will drain off drywall and puddle in the middle of your plywood floor.

I was anyway.

Wait one second; I’m going to check to see if it’s okay.

.
.

Yup, it’s fine. The edge of one sheet might be junk but that’s okay. Losing an inch is better than losing 4 sheets.

This sentence is just to brag about my mad driving skills. If Del was driving, this story would have a different out-come. (‘Cuz he drives like old people have sex)

Love ya, mean it Del. I haven’t killed you yet, stop puckering at both ends.

So now, thankfully we can get back to work. We have more materials and it doesn’t matter what the weather is.

Until we run out of drywall again. I’m going to try and get them to build that wall really slowly until I look at a Doppler radar.

Del and I did spend the last few days tapin’ and muddin’ and sandin’. I like the tapin’ and the muddin’, it’s like frosting a cake.

And cake is similar to doughnuts.

What’s not to like about that?

I hate sandin’ though. That crap makes a dust that gets in my hair and turns it all grey. I look like I’m 90 years old. Not liking that at all. Plus that dust makes my hair all stiff and crunchy. It’s a wicked gross feeling. When I take a shower, it gets pasty until I can wash it all out.

We can’t skip the sanding though (trust me, I tried to convince Del we could) because it makes lumpy walls.

We already had to fix the nipples I made in the drywall with the broom handle. Del doesn’t like lumpy.

As a matter of fact, I think he ate most of those flat doughnuts now that I think about it.

LYMI!

Deadly monorail accidentLINKS TO ANSWERS AT BOTTOM- WTF?

This should not have happened. This picture makes me want to cry.

The monorails aren't as safe as we all assume. A tire blew out on one of them and the cab looks like a bomb went off in the thing. Since that happened, they have stopped using retreads. :-/

It seems kind of odd that all the fail-safe shit flunked.

There is a dead man switch on it. If the driver lets go of the throttle, the train stops.

If they are speeding, the train stops.

There is also supposed to be someone on the platform that can cut power to the trains in case everything else fails. They can cut the power to the train and the train stops.

I have drilled Del this morning on what could have possibly happened. What went wrong? What senerios could have played out that this could have happened?

He can't answer me. He will say though, that when he was in the Army - jumping out of planes, he felt safer than when he was driving that run from Epcot to the TTC (where the accident happened).

I will answer as many questions (via Del) as I can and edit this post with the answers. Keep checking back throughout the day.

How the monorail system works

QUESTION - I thought there was only one train on each track?

ANSWER - No. They can run up to 4 on each beam. At this time, we do not know how many trains would have been running. If anyone knows what time Epcot closed, we could give you a better idea. ETA; Mush told me that Epcot closed at 10:00 PM. The accident was 4 hours after closing. That track should have stopped running at 11:30 PM. Hard to say what the hell happened there.

QUESTION - Did Del know the CM that was killed?

ANSWER - At this time, they have not released the name of the pilot. We don't know yet.

ANSWER 3 - Del did know him but didn't know his name. He recognised his picture. He started before Del did.

QUESTION - Robin this had to have been operator error don't ya think??? They are the only ones that cam override the system from what the local news is saying.

ANSWER - There is also a possibility that it could have been a mistake by central. Think along the lines of an air traffic controller. Central is supposed to know where all those trains are at all times.

He could still only do 15 mph during a mapo. Also remember those trains have been running since 1989, constantly and they break down frequently.

QUESTION - If they close the monorail how do you get to Magic Kingdom & Epcot?

ANSWER - That diesel donkey, rockin' back and forth, having skin to skin contact with strangers - filled bus.

QUESTION - Do the pilots really drive the trains? I read that they aren't, so they are not the first or even second line of defence as far as safety goes.

ANSWER - YES, They really are driving the trains! Their first responsibility is to drive the train. The second is the guests. The bus drivers are really driving the buses too if that is your next question. ;)

QUESTION - (Sorry Tricia, I didn't understand the first part of your question. Can you try again?) What do you think the odds are that this means the end of "Front of the Monorail rides"?

ANSWER - There are so many things in place that this accident should not have happened. The trains have a dead man switch. If the driver lets go, even for a second, the train stops. The way the driver has to hold the throttle, their wrist is turned in an awkward way.

Something, somewhere failed that should never have failed. Even if the driver makes a mistake, there are supposed to be back up safety precautions in place.

I don't think this will be the end of riding in the front because it's a crazy accident that should have been impossible to happen.

QUESTION - Why won't Del answer your questions? Is he hiding something or is he afraid of Disney coming after him?

ANSWER - Oh, see this is why I am an entertainment writer and not a reporter. I am sorry if I gave anyone the impression that Del wouldn't answer my questions for any other reason than he has no idea how it could have happened.

QUESTION - Could the driver have had a heart attack or try to commit suicide?

ANSWER - Still, there are too many other things in place for either of these things to happen. So, no. I asked Del if you wanted to smash that train into another how could you do it? He keeps saying there is no way. First the dead-man switch, then you have the MBS (moving block system - part of the mayo system) and if all else fails, then central can cut the power to the trains.

QUESTION - Epcot closed at 10 but MK didn't close until 1 am so if a person was parked in Epcots parking area the monorail would still run the MK people back to Epcot right?

No. Once a track is shut down, it's over for the night. Magic Kingdom people would have had to take the bus. (We still don't know why the Epcot side was running though because it was 4 hours past closing and 2 1/2 hours after it should have been shut down)

When it is shut down, one train is parked at Epcot and one at TTC. The others going into a magical, secret parking lot.

QUESTION - Do the monorail drivers wear seatbelts? Even at 15 mph if he hit a stopped monorail he could have been thrown around the cab of the monorail.

ANSWER - No. The drivers do not wear seat belts. The "nose" of the other train is inside the cab. The pilot had to be cut out of the cab. :(

QUESTION - (Thanks Tricia) Are the monorails closed entirely (Could you ride the monorail from the Polynesian to the MK?) or is it just the Epcot TTC run that is closed?

ANSWER - Once the parks are closed, they run the monorails for 1 1/2 hours. If Epcot closes before Magic Kingdom, that line is closed while the other keeps running. They are shut down for the night at some point. In the morning (god awful early too), they are brought back out and have to run a series of checks before they are put into commission.

QUESTION - This is what happens to me when I am out of touch for a while, I can't ask a question to save my life. LOL
I was asking, has Disney shut down the monorails entirely (today) or just the TTC Epcot run as they investigate what happened?

ANSWER - Oh, LOL! From what I understand the entire monorail is shut down for the investigation and guests are being asked to use the buses. I'm not sure how long that will be.

QUESTION - (Really more of a statement than a question) - I don't think we will ever hear the truth of what happened. Disney will cover it up.

ANSWER - No. The monorails have a "black box" in them. Every single thing a monorail pilot does is documented into a computer. If they let go of the throttle and the train stops, it's documented. If they are speeding, the monorail tells on them. OSHA is investigating this along with other offices. I don't believe that Disney could cover anything up, even if they wanted too.

QUESTION - I just read somewhere that the pilot cabin is designed to crumple in this type of accident, absorbing the impact so that the passenger cabins are safe. Basically, the pilot will die to save the guests. Supposedly the Monorail pilots are told this during training and given the option of dropping out. This information was allegedly from a former CM. Any idea if this is true?

ANSWER - No, Del was never told this. I honestly can't seeing any monorail pilot agreeing to this for $8.00 an hour.

ANSWER #2 - If that is true, that the cab is designed to crumble and the driver is going to die to save the guests in the back train, why are guests allowed to ride in the front?

QUESTION - I heard that the power was cut to the station and that is why the blue (Editor note- it was purple) train couldn't move.

ANSWER - Pink couldn't have moved either. If concourse didn't have power, the entire beam would have been without power too.

QUESTION - Wouldn't they have to be going faster than 15MPH to sustain that much damage?

ANSWER - Uh, Mush? Are you still reading? Let's do a 50 ton (guessing) train traveling at 15 MPH.

QUESTION - You've written that Del felt safer jumping out of airplanes than he did when driving the Epcot-TTC run. Why? Did he feel something was unsafe about the monorail system? Was there something about that beam or the way they operated on it that made him uneasy?

ANSWER - There were more competent people in the military with one common goal. The monorails are considered a non-skilled job. In the event of an emergency, he didn't feel that anyone would really know what to do. (Notice in the video that it is guests assisting with rescue at first?)

QUESTION - I read something on the internet that sounded like the pink monorail was backing up and hit the purple one that was in the station and that "central" had cleared this to happen....any chance that this is what actually happened?

ANSWER - We heard that too. Del keeps saying he just doesn't know how that could have happened. If pink was backing up, the shop, central and all the CM's would have known it. When they cleared pink to back up, central booth is right there in that station.

All of us that have visited Disney have walked near that booth.

Someone could have looked over and saw purple sitting there. Even if for some reason they were suddenly rendered "monorail blind", purple would have heard on his radio that pink was coming his way.

If a monorail is backing up, all the other trains stop. They don't back up one while the others are still in motion.

Nothing makes any sence. There were just too many things that went wrong. And they all went wrong at the same time.

Another quick thing, all the pilots know who is on their beams with them. Purple knew pink was in front of him. Purple had no guests in his cab so he would have been able to hear his radio. Pink had to have known he was on the wrong track. When he was backing up, he would have seen the beam he was supposed to be on before he hit pink.If pink was backing up, purple would have been holding still. If it was the other way around, that purple hit pink (which seems even more unlikely looking at the pictures now), why would both trains be in the area of the parking lot where they were when they collided? Pink never would have had a reason to back up through the station that far.

UPDATE 2:00 PM VIDEO ADDED

Warning! No blood or guts but very hard to watch!

Video after crash

After watching this video Del thinks that maybe purple could have run into the back of pink. People are getting off the monorail.

Del said there is a hatch in the top of the cab. He also knows the 2 cast members in the video.

AN OBSERVATION - The first picture, you can see the monorails are not in the platform. In the video, they are. Del thinks that they were pulled into the station by the work tractor to get the people out. The work tractor rides right on the beam.

I can't post these pictures, they are too upsetting. WARNING! WARNING! You can see the pilot's seat under the nose of the other monorail. :(

Mush - One of the things I read recently was that, when they switch beams to head to the spur line over to the MX shed (guessing that's what Del means by MAPO), they have to disable the anti-collision system (Source is a piece authored by Ricky Brigante). I wonder if Pink was supposed to take the spur off the Epcot loop to the MK loop, and the switch didn't throw (Pink was backing in and couldn't see that they were still on the EP loop, where purple may have been parked).

ANSWER - Well, they still have to be looking around and behind them. They have rear-view mirrors in them. Central has to be heavily involved in that entire process - when backing up a train. Going through the switches, the top speed is 3 MPH. You would know you aren't on the right beamway. Shop and central both know where the trains are and where they are supposed to be going. There are 3 different positions watching and working on backing up the trains. Shop, central and the driver.

The guy in purple would have clearly seen that train coming and could have put his into reverse to get out of there. They have strobes on the back of them - headlights on the front. He could have also called central and said "Hey!"

ETA: Mush's response to my earlier question with more information.

WARNING VIDEO CONTAINS IMAGES OF AFTER THE CRASH.

Still reading LOL. I'm trying to keep this as sentimental as possible, which isn't easy in trying to look at it from a technical standpoint. The position of the nose of the pink monorail relative to purple is throwing me. (Del says they are identical. They are like snowmobile noses, no bumpers. Could it be because one was moving and one was not?) I would have expected them to be the same height, and, as a result, both noses should have impacted, rather than have pink slide up on top of purple. I don't know if it's a design thing or not, nor do I think it would have made much of a difference in the unfortunate outcome (yeah, 15 MPH could do a lot of damage with that much mass behind it, to answer your above question); however, that's perplexing me.
Brigante's article was really well-written, but his source and hypothesized scenario just didn't make sense, as, if my memory serves me right, the spur to the MX shed (Shop) is between the MK and Contemp. (Correct) The idea that a pilot wouldn't realize the problem all the way around the Lagoon just doesn't seem plausible, unless I misunderstood what Ricky was trying to say. (Complete agreement here. There is just no way for a pilot not to know they are heading down the wrong track) I just found a video a couple of minutes ago that, while it has too much opinion in it for me, supports the scenario I came up with. It's at http://www.wdwnewstoday.com/archives/3952 . It has a lot of assumptions, which have yet to be verified.

If that is the kid that died (his picture is in the video), Del said he did know him and he started before him. Del said he knew what he was doing.

Del is really mad right now about this whole disaster, so I'm not getting any answers that aren't filled with rage and swears. He said he watched that kid freeze his ass off several times while working, he busted his tail and he was really intellegent. There is no way that this accident was his fault. None, zero, nada, zip. He was a good pilot and there is no chance in hell he would have just sat there while 50 tons of train smashed into him. If he could have backed up, he would have. If he could have jumped out, he would have.

Be back soon.

QUESTION - know you have up two other great posts but I'm fixated on this scary accident. I guess the report coming out now says that the manager on duty and the central control coordinator were at Denny's during the crash. Is this normal? They can just head off campus for a quick bite during their shift? Would that really be a dinner break at 2 am when it is so close to closing the parks for good? What the heck?

ANSWERS - This is just too fucked up for an answer. No, this isn't normal. Apparently, according to abc action news :

Link to report that these fucktards were out to lunch

And even worse, the thing that pisses us off to no end:

He tried to back his monorail up before he was crushed to death because of those fucktards

I can't even tell you how mad we are.

A comedian, an actress and a singer meet at the gates of heaven

Not a joke.

What an unreal week huh?

In case you have been in a coma, Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Micheal Jackson all died this week.

I've been watching this stuff on the news and what I can't figure out is - why, when a celebrity dies, do people crowd and gather in front of the hospital, their homes or their star on the Hollywood walk of fame?

Have you seen this? It's unbelievable. Hundreds if not thousands of people all decide to bunch up together, (having skin to skin contact with each other) to stand outside of these places.

Why? I don't understand it.

If a bomb went off, it would kill them all.

It's crazy.

Anyway, heaven just got a little more entertaining this week.

LYMI!

The Daisy Relocation Program

The Daisy Relocation Program

So, Dave and Del have been working on the ceiling, fixing the trusses, putting up insulation and drywall and mudding a taping it. All these things are literally over my head.

I tried to help but nothing is going to change the fact that I am 5 feet tall and the ceilings are 84 inches high. I’m as useless as a bicycle to a goldfish.

While they worked on that, I took a ride over to Em’s house to pick her up. When I pulled in the driveway, her mom Misty walked out the front door.

Until I blinked, I didn’t realize it wasn’t Misty but Em. You guys can’t believe how much she has grown up; I can’t believe how much of a little mirror image she has become of her mom. Misty is as cute as a kitten. You could just stick her in your pocket and carry her around. Em is lucky that she looks so much like her.

Em is about as tall as me now so she too is as useless as a bicycle to a goldfish when it comes to helping the guys work on the trailer so she and I found something else to do.

Behind our place is a big open field that we call the back forty (pronounced fah-dee). In the back forty are huge bunches of daisies that Em and I decided would look better in the front five. This was the beginning of the daisy relocation program.

We borrowed Dave’s “wormin’” shovel. Knowing that this shovel was used exclusively to dig up and murder worms kind of grossed me and Em out but we weren’t about to dig up the ground with our fingernails, so we had no choice but to get the hell over it.

The funny thing about it though, it seemed every time we dug up a spot, we hit worms. It’s like…*gasp* a magic shovel! Em thought maybe we should check Dave’s truck for a gold, diamond or oil shovel.

Hey, you never know. He does have a truck load of tools.

We went back and got our first two daisy bushes and brought them up to the front to replant them. Once we got them into the ground, we had to go stand on the street (with our hands on our hips – that was the important part) to admire our little garden.

We thought two more bunches would be okay. We just wanted to fill it out a little more.

We didn’t know if we were actually committing a mass murder of daisies or not since it’s not something either of us has ever done before. We felt that if we brought too many more up that it would be considered serial daisy killing if they die so if these live until next weekend, we will kidnap and relocate more.

In the middle of our project, Em heard our neighbor flipping out and yelling about something.

See, since Del and I lived in Outrigger Village located at 1701 Mabbette St. in Kissimmee, Florida with the suspicious, unsolved murder of the 47 year old man that lived 2 doors over from us, walking to the mailbox in the middle of the day to check the mail only to be scared shitless by the armed police man waiting around the corner because there was a massive drug bust in the laundry room, the many sleepless nights because of the drunken domestic fights, the screaming, the plain ugliness of the place – I guess I can’t hear some grumpy old man bitching. It’s just not loud or terrifying enough to me anymore.

I’d almost venture to say that my many years of being terrified of bugs is cured because we shared an apartment with cockroaches the size of small cars.

In other words, if you are looking for a place to live in Kissimmee, you’d be safer, happier and better off if you lived under a bridge or in your car than if you lived at Outrigger Village. (1701 Mabbette Street. Kissimmee, Florida 34741)

“He’s talking about us.” Em said while I was squishing dirt down between flowers. I stopped to listen to what he had to say.

I was shocked. I honestly was. This old man – when he would see me or Del would make a point of yelling hello to us and calling us by name - was very angry at our door.

Not the door on our trailer, the one leaning up on the other side of it. It’s a door that Dave got for us (I have no idea how he did it either, he just appeared one day with a door) that was virtually invisible to me.

I don’t know how long it has been out there because I can’t see the damn thing. Del asked me one night if I saw the door that Dave gave us and I didn’t. The super-stupid part is that I parked the truck 3 feet away from it.

And you know what is worse? I didn’t believe there was a door out there until Del walked with me around the trailer to prove it.

I mean, who can’t see a door? I thought he was pulling my leg. I was a delivery boy for years for God sakes. Finding doors was a pretty important part of my job.

I knew Dave had a passionate hatred towards the door that is on the trailer now, since he fixed the roof the dumb door doesn’t fit anymore. When he literally raised the roof, it pulled the walls back to where they belonged. The door we have now actually bends at the top and bottom to close.

It didn’t bother me or Del but that drove Dave bat-shit crazy. He has told the door off on more than one occasion, I swear. He barely bumped the door with a 2x4 and the door retaliated by developing a huge crater in itself. He had a personal problem with the door and by getting another door, has essentially evicted it.

So I am a little on the fence if he got us a door because he is such a good friend or if he is settling something with the door that is there now.

I wish he’d get pissed off at the windows.

Anyway, the grumpy old man next door was yelling to someone (on the phone I think) that “They have been fucking remodeling that place for two fucking weeks! There is a fucking door on the side of their mobile home! A fucking door! I see it when I drive past their place! The fucking door is right on the side of the fucking trailer!”

Wow.

Wow, wow, wow.

We didn’t know the door was pissing anyone off. Had we known that, we would have properly disciplined the door and sent it to the back of the trailer. They can’t put the door on the trailer until they finish the roof.

And, I’m sorry but we aren’t Extreme Home Makeover. It’s going to take more than a couple of weeks to finish this project. If you happen to see Ty Pennington and his busload of money, send him right over, okay?

I’ll give his some unassembled cookies.

I was really mad when I heard him going off like that. He knew Em and I were standing right there – he could SEE us. It was pretty ballsy of him to run his mouth when my kid is standing right there. What could I do? I had to take a deep breath and play the mom thing.

“Come on Em.” I said and walked into the trailer with her. I told Del what happened and had planned on going back out to confront him about his rude little outburst in front of a kid but Em was hot on my heals and I couldn’t.

Do I want a problem with my neighbor? Holy hell, no. But I wanted to address it. If the door was going to put such a bunch in his tighty-whities, I was willing to move the silly thing.

So Em and I went across the street to the other neighbors we made friends with. I asked them if we were bothering them or making too much noise or if the general cluster-fuckery was too much to live around.

Nope, they have no issues with us. They knew how hard we all have been working. They were surprised we didn’t make more noise than we did.

“You know, the noise ordinance is 11:00 PM, right? We don’t hear you guys past 7:00 or 8:00. Even before that, you guys hardly make any noise at all.” They told us.

Are they giving me permission to make noise for an extra 3-4 hours? Groovy.

But we wouldn’t do that. Well, Del and I wouldn’t anyway. I’m not so sure about Em and Dave. That grumpy old man tweaking like that really chapped their asses.

“Put the door on the other side of the trailer so he has to look at it.” Dave said and Em nodded in agreement. “Do it Dad! Do it!”

No, the door went to the back to live for now.

With that done, Em and I went back into the back forty to get some rocks for the other flower bed. We had found a nice pile of them back there when we were kidnapping daisies.

I had a small bucket we were using to load them up into. We were both bent over picking up rocks when suddenly Em let out a scream so loud, a dog in Utah dropped dead.

She was in a dead run back to the trailer and half way there when I yelled for her to stop. I had no idea what she was screaming about and I needed to know what was about to kill me.

I can’t run. She forgets that I think. All I can do is stand there and die.

I would at least like a proper introduction to my murderer.

“What are you screaming about?” I asked her and she started to come back to where I was.

“You don’t see it?” She asked me.

What? Is it a door?

She came back to stand next to me and pointed at the pile of rocks. “Right there! It’s right there!”

I still wasn’t seeing it so I figured it had to be a door.

“A slug!” She yelled.

That’s right, a slug - also known as a naked and embarrassed snail.

I was trying so hard not to laugh. “Are you for real? You’re scared of a slug?” I asked. “Good God kid. I guess if you stand there for the next half hour to forty five minutes, it might touch you.”

Em speed when she took off on that dead run was 0 – 60 mph in 2 seconds.

The slugs’ speed was 0 – 0 in 47 hours.

At least it gave us something else to do for a while. We had to search out different, slug-free rocks. You know, because all the slugs in Maine are only on those rocks.

Geesh.

LYMI!

Just some funnies

Just some funnies

This is going to be a few short stories about things I forgot to tell you in previous posts. I know I tend to write the longest posts in the history of blogging and it’s really hard to believe I leave things out, but I do.

********************************************************

I’ve told Del forever that I don’t want to die a stupid death. I am all about smoke and CO2 detectors, seatbelts, and all that shit. I’m a regular Safety Sally.

So, the only explanation I can come up with for why I nearly drove Del and I straight into a pond because I was distracted by a rock on the side of the road (I need rocks for my garden) is because I hadn’t yet had any coffee.

Del’s fingernail dents on the dashboard should buff right out.

Conclusion? Safety sucks before starbucks.

***************************************************


At this point in the game, I am completely convinced that even if the entire trailer dropped over on its side like an 1890’s woman with a bad case of the vapors, Dave would simply put his hands on his hips, tip his head and say “Don’t worry about that. We can fix it and you’ll never know it happened.”

************************************************

Realistically, there is no reason for Dave to have any fingers. He’s like a construction ninja. The board is too long? He grabs his saw and saws it off in mid-air, then tosses the saw on the floor- WHILE WALKING. I’ve even seen him saw things balanced across his leg before.

Dave scares me.

********************************************

One (commandeered, not stolen) Disney World Resort pen that you are using to measure out drywall holds just about 47 gallons of ink. The pen, when it explodes in your back pocket will drain out magic ink that is virtually invisible until you have covered almost every square inch of yourself, your spouse, the seats in your truck and a tree in the rainforest.

********************************************

Our neighbors have been crazy cool with all the smells, noise and general cluster-fuckery since we moved in. I would like to show my appreciation by baking them some cookies but my kitchen is now located in the stump dump.

I had a thought. I could separately bag up all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies and attach the following note:

Dear neighbor,

Please accept these unassembled cookies as a token of our appreciation for your patience. Sometime in the future I hope to be able to present you with fully constructed cookies. Thank you for your understanding.

Sincerely,

The people that were crazy enough to buy that dump.

*********************************************

For some weird reason all the electrical outlets in the place are sideways. Dave has been yanking them out of the wall to straighten them out. Well, one of them he put in upside down.

They are just stuck in the wall. They aren’t screwed in, so they aren’t permanent yet.

You think Del could get over the one that was upside down? No, he couldn’t. He paced back and forth in front of that one outlet and bitched about it until Dave yanked it out and put it in right side up.

Del and I don’t do anything without checking with Dave first so neither one of us could turn it right side up. We really don’t know what he is doing and don’t want to screw up his system.

You know, because Dave might have a perfectly good reason for wanting that one electrical outlet to be upside down. Maybe it is holding the ceiling up?

************************************************


Speaking of the ceiling, Del and I decided to rip the ceiling down because it was pouring rain outside and we couldn’t go get more drywall.

Or rather, Del decided it; I kicked, screamed and cried about it (because I was scared to death of what was in the ceiling).

Del was explaining to me how the trusses in the ceiling were broke (not a great argument to have with someone who is scared of the ceiling) and pushed up on it to show me how high it really should be.

Approximately enough water to sink the Titanic poured off the roof and down the outside of the windows.

I thought “Crap, I’m going to drown in this damn thing?”

Side note: Del was dead sexy holding that roof up while I screamed at the top of my lungs. There is a dead dog in Ohio now because I screamed that loud.

**************************************************


Dave says that Del lost his “manly” hammer. Apparently Del has a “bitch” hammer. Personally to me, they look just alike to me but that’s a guy thing, I guess.

Anyway, Dave said to Del if he didn’t find his hammer he was going to have to kick him in the balls.

“Please don’t” I said “That’s my favorite part of him. Kick him in the skull, I don’t use that.”

******************************************************

Del and Dave were using some scrap pieces of paneling to even out the walls so they could hang the drywall on it. Del was cutting a piece with a utility knife very carefully. It wasn’t really cutting it at all, so it was more like he was tickling it. Dave looked at him and asked him what the hell he was doing.

“I don’t want to scratch up the floor.” Del said.

The floor is still plywood. It will be covered up with carpet.

At least it will be scratch free.

***********************************************

When Del and Dave were pulling down the walls in the kitchen, Dave suddenly broke out in dance.

He wiggled and hopped to the other side of the kitchen.

Add finding a bee’s hive to the list of things Dave doesn’t do.

**************************************************

Del and I were leaving the trailer park the other day. While we were driving out, we were smiling and waving at people – because that is what you do when you live in a trailer park.

There were two little girls standing on the side of the road, staring at us with big, doe-eyes. Del did not wave to them.

“Why didn’t you wave to the little girls?” I asked Del who just gave me a side-smirk glance like I should know the answer to that.

I thought it over for a second when it dawned on me. “Is it because you’re packing a penis?”

He laughed a lot. I’m pretty sure that was the reason. It would be super creepy for a strange man to be waving at little girls standing on the side of the road, right?

**************************************************


Commando Nikki has been beyond upset over this entire thing and I didn’t understand it. She had been reading my stories and looking at the pictures. When ever I talked to her she would fall apart. She wanted to drop her whole life and rush up here to help us get it done.

We are doing well for a 3 man crew; she doesn’t need to do that.

Anyway, last night we had a really long conversation about why she keeps falling to pieces. She told me a story about a man she helped when she went on her relief trip for spring break to Mississippi.

I can’t even bring myself to retell the story because I cry so much for a man I never met.

My friends, I cried when I had no floors until I heard the story of the man with no home. I hope I can be forgiven for that.

It just breaks my heart to know if we stopped right this minute; we would still have more than others. I am so grateful and appreciative for all we have, I can’t even tell you.

I’m too blessed to be distressed. Thank you all so much for your kind words and support. You are as important to us as Dave is.

Love ya, mean it.

Pictures here

Too many pictures!

All of the pictures are here. It would take me 8 years to upload them all to blogger, so go ahead and take a look for yourself.

I'll be back in a little bit to tell you about some of them, okay?

LYMI!

The outside

Eventually, we are going to build out the deck so we can use it and I'm going to plant some flowers and shrubs. I'm thinking blueberry bushes right in the front to hide the hitch.

There is more yard over to the left, I just didn't get it in this shot.

Not bad, huh?











The other side.

The place needs to be painted but until we stop dropping down through the floors, it can wait. ;)














Looking out the front door at my tree.

We already made friends with the people in the blue trailer. They seem wicked nice.

Living room

This is looking into the living room from the kitchen. This was taken before we started falling through the dumb floor.














This was the first dent I made with my boot. My foot started to go through it but it got stuck, giving me a split second to get the hell off it.

I walk close to the walls now.













I'm sorry this one isn't better but I was scared of the floor.

Under the big piece of plywood is a hole. Next to the little square piece of wood is another dent I made.

The thing on top of the plywood is a smoke detector. That's unreal, huh?










Watch out!

Kitchen and the nest

I didn't get pictures of what this looked like with the carpet and furniture in it. It was pretty gross so you aren't missing much.

































This is where one of the nests we found was (the one that nearly sent me back into puberty). This is as close as I was getting to it without a weapon.

Under that white box I found a loaf of bread with an expiration date from 1989. If it wasn't in a bag, I would have had no freaking clue what the hell it was.

I did use a shovel to clear that mess out.




This is while we were ripping out the cabinets.

Crazy fun, I'm telling you.



















I'm not sure if you can see it in this picture but up against the windows is a mop I found.

It was the only thing in the entire kitchen that was CLEAN.

*Thump*

*Thump* Just like that, door on the ground.

Bawahahahaha!

Don't panic, it's not that bad, honestly.

Del found the cord to my camera. Here are some pictures of our new place.

Oh, wait. That's not it.

I didn't get any pictures before they tore out the original bathroom and back bedroom.

These are so gross, it makes me wish I could wash my blog.


This is Dave working hard in the bathroom right after they ripped it out.

He is standing just about where he went through the floor.










This is the hole Del made, where the 2 short brown boards are. He fell across that black circle in the middle of the floor.

You know what that is, right?

It's an actual shit-hole. That's where the toilet goes.

That's exactly what a germ-a-phobe wants to do, lay down across a shit-hole. He was super happy about that.


This is looking towards what used to be the back bedroom. They moved the water heater over there to get it out of the way.












Uh, um? Dave's ass? Not really sure why I took that. Maybe to prove not all plumbers need to show their cracks?













The guys installing the new plumbing. Del's draws are showing but note his crack isn't out either.

He was just auditioning to be a plumber.





















Just like Christmas man. You have no idea how happy a toilet will make you until you are without one.

Looks pretty good for almost being in an accident with a car full of tourist, huh?

















Shower time!
























Yes, it's the blue tarp! I might write a book based just on 1001 uses for a blue tarp. You'd buy that, right?


















It's a curtain too.














Back wall. That is the side of the shower. This is where a bedroom will eventually be.














The other side of the wall, in the hallway.





Okay, more soon.

LYMI!

Demolition is crazy fun

Demolition is crazy fun

Even more fun than playing with the drill. I know, hard to believe huh? You will have to take my word on that though. I mean it is one thing to go find a drill and play with it but it’s another story altogether to be knocking down the walls in your house.

But trust me, it is wicked fun. I’ve never lied to you before.

When Del and I first started tearing this place apart, we were being very careful. Now I can’t say why Del was being careful (because I don't have the ability to read his thoughts), I just know why I was. I was scared that the ceiling would fall in on my head. Fear of being knocked the hell out by your home makes you want to play nice with it.

But see, we have Dave – the construction super-hero. The other day when he saw Del and I carefully unscrewing cabinets he pushed us to one side and said “Dude, like this.” With one hand Dave grabbed a hold of a cabinet door and ripped the sucker right off.

When Dave picked up the hammer and started going to town, what he did was take 30 hours of “Costello Construction” down to 3 minutes of “Dave don’t fuck around”.

Dave gave Del and me homework to get done before he comes back this weekend. I swear Dave wants this done just as bad as we do because he is that kind of a friend. Our job tonight was demolishing the kitchen.

First, before the fun part we had to shovel out all the gross, disgusting trash in the cabinets. It took 15 heavy - duty Hefty garbage bags.

Think about that just for a minute. 15 large garbage bags of old, rotten food.

Now, 3 guesses where the smell was coming from and the first 2 guesses don’t count.

The guy that lives across the street from us brought us over some masks to wear while we tackled the kitchen. Del and I were immediately embarrassed because we thought he could smell our trailer from his.

He says he couldn’t but who brings over masks as a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift, hum?

Yeah, see? Suspicious, isn’t it?

Del and I also talked about being embarrassed by this place. Why should we be? We aren’t willing to live like that. What do we have to be embarrassed about? It’s not our filth. We are busting our tails to get it cleaned out and fixed. I think we should be proud of ourselves.

I really wish I could find the cord to my camera so I could show this place to you. Del and I have looked and re-looked and I just don’t know what the hell happened to it. That’s really the only thing so far that has pissed me off.

Okay, so back to the construction. I found out by surprise that I really enjoy smashing things. I was a closeted construction worker. If a woman walks by, I might cat-call.

The weird thing though is the debris from it all really freaks me out. When Del and Dave ripped out the bathroom, they were piling the debris in the living room. (There was junk plywood on the floor. That is why it didn’t go through the floor and under the trailer.)

I have no idea where I was when they were doing it, I just remember walking back into the trailer and seeing a 5 foot tall pile of junk in the middle of the living room and having a major, heart-pounding, full-blown panic attack.

I went back outside and wrapped myself around a tree because I was about to leave the planet when I saw that.

But when I was helping Del load it into the back of the truck to haul it over to the “stump dump” (that’s where everyone in the park can dump wood) it went pretty fast. Loading it and dumping it took no time at all.

So tonight when we demolished the kitchen, I thought I’d be okay with it.

I wasn’t. Not even a little bit. As soon as I turned around and saw another 5 foot tall pile of wood, I started freaking out again.

“We have to go.” I said to Del who was in the middle of pulling down trim.

“We will, just wait. I’m almost done.” He said.

“Almost done” is different things to me and Del. To me it means the event in question is going to end very soon, like in a few minutes. To Del it means whenever he is done and that could take an hour.

“We have to go now.” I said. I was looking around in the pile of crap for a pen, just in case I needed to stick him in the head with it.

“Wait, I want to get the rest of it first.” He said and headed to the back of the trailer to pull off more trim and whatever else he was doing.

I really don’t know what he was doing, I was becoming unfocused.

I grabbed the keys to the truck and backed it up so close to the door that it looked like it was part of the trailer. I then went back inside and started loading up the truck.

Either me or the pile had to go, now. Del might have been “almost done” but I was “completely done”.

Just like the other pile, it took no time at all to get rid of it.

After we unloaded the scary, monster pile and threw out the 15 bags of trash in the dumpster, we grabbed something to eat and came to Del’s office to eat.

We can’t eat in the trailer yet. Soon, but not yet. I still need some time to get over the smell and it isn’t happening tonight.

LYMI!

You are cordially invited

You are cordially invited to…

A toilet flushing party!

*Singing & swing my butt* We have a bathroom. We have a bathroom.

You just don’t know how happy a potty can make you, honest to God. If you’re in town, stop by. You can come over and flush our toilet. Bring your own toilet paper though.

I do have “before” and “during” pictures but no “after” pictures yet because nothing is completely finished yet. The only problem is I can’t find the stupid cord to my camera. Del and I are here at his office and are searching for it (because he rents storage units and that is where all our stuff is) so hopefully soon; you’ll get a peak at this “adventure”.

We found that if you take the top right off a Fabreeze bottle and pour it directly onto the floor, it helps. Spraying it around is for wimps. It doesn’t completely eliminate the smell but the smell is slowly going away.

Let me tell you why I think THAT is happening.

I went through the floor a little again. It’s really no biggy if I go through it because I’m already in casts so I really can’t break anything. But if Del and Dave keep doing it, eventually they will render themselves sterile. (The distance between the floor and the cement slab the trailer sits on is crotch, the newest unit of measurement)

Because we keep going through the floor, the floor is slowly being carried out and thrown into the back of the truck, piece by piece. So that is my theory on why the smell is going away. We are relocating it to the truck.

Good news (freaking great news actually), the money fairy did pay my paypal account a little visit last night and we are getting more plywood for the living room floor just as soon as Del closes his office tonight. (Thank you again so much Pam, love ya, mean it not just saying it. I thank you, as well as the crotches of Del and Dave).

So because we had a working bathroom, we spent our first night there last night.

Bonus part? The guys hooked up the washer and the dryer too. I madly love these men, I’m telling ya.

We had cleaned and sterilized the little bedroom to sleep in. We used the cardboard from the shower boxes to lay down on the floor then put down an air mattress (opps, that was only a twin, Del let me have it) and some blankets.

Del’s drill – yes, I’m going to talk about the drill again, have you played with one yet? Anyway, it’s cordless and has a radio on it. We played the radio for entertainment, took showers and did laundry. It was the greatest night ever.

Eventually, we were exhausted and decided to hit the floor (not ‘hit the hay’, I wouldn’t want another critter thinking its okay to build another nest). Del shut off the light and it was seriously, so unbelievable dark in that place that I reverted back into a 4 year old.

“Why is it so dark?” I asked Del. “There is a window right there!”

“There are no street lights, no traffic and no moonlight.” Del said.

“What was that?” I asked because there was a sound.

A sound! Good God Almighty!

“I don’t know. It’s fine, go to sleep.” Del said.

“Do you hear it? I hear it.” I said.

“Right. That’s what sounds are all about, hearing them. Go to sleep.” Del said again.

“What if it’s something under the trailer and it crawls up through the floor?” I asked him. I was starting to panic just a little bit.

“I’ll kill it with the drill, okay? Just go to sleep.” Del said.

“Think about it - that could really happen. There are boot and crotch holes all over the living room floor.” I said.

“No, I covered the holes with some junk wood. Nothing is crawling in here that isn’t already in here now.” Del said and added “Now please, go to sleep.”

Was that supposed to make me feel better? He really should have stopped at the “nothing is crawling in here” and left off the “that isn’t already in here now” part.

“Do you know where the drill is? It’s pretty dark in here.” I said.

I was 30 seconds away from asking for a drink of water and another story.

“Robin. The drill is on the charger. The charger is the radio. If something crawls in here, I’ll follow the music, get the drill and drill the fucking thing to the floor. Now go to sleep.” Del said.

I seemed to be testing his nerves.

“What if something is strong enough to push the wood up and get in…” I started to say when I heard Del’s voice get higher.

Not higher as in the tone, higher as in - he sat up. I just couldn’t see it because trailer life had rendered me completely blind.

“Tell me again how you grew up on a farm. You’re scared of everything.” Del said.

“Yeah, because I know critters have claws and teeth. Maybe when a pissed off raccoon is standing in the doorway, you’ll understand it.” I said.

Nothing that I know about crawled up through the floor. If it did, I could live the rest of my life never knowing it.

Of course, I didn’t sleep much because I was on guard like a dog. I did take a huge nap today in the back of Del’s office. The nap didn’t take all that well, I’m still tired.

Okay, got to run. We are headed over to Lowe’s to get plywood and I’m being rushed.

LYMI!

EAT ME!

EAT ME!

The following morning Del and I were driving back to the trailer with the truck still loaded with the rotten carpets and furniture. Every time we passed someone walking or riding a bike, I yelled out the window “Sorry about that!”

I knew they could smell it. Hell, I wouldn’t be shocked if you could smell it.

We had to get the crap unloaded so we (didn’t drop dead) load up some building materials. It was super-powered gross but we did it.

Our friend Dave showed up at the trailer to try and get things inhabitable before we got kicked out of the hotel, motel, whatever- place. That ended up being far more complicated than we thought it was going to be.

We figured we really needed to get one bedroom and the bathroom done right off the bat. I still hadn’t gotten a shovel so for now the kitchen was still off limits and they had shut off the water to work on the bathroom.

Dave and Del went into the bathroom to decide what would be the best course of action in there while I puttered around cleaning and bagging up shit. The next thing I knew, they were calling me in the bathroom to see that they had done.

I’ll tell you what they did; they ripped the bathroom completely out of that son-of-a-bitch, that’s what they did.

“If you want to use the toilet, this is your last chance.” They told me.

Uh, there are no walls. I took a pass on their more than generous offer to pee in the middle of an open trailer.

Besides, Del and I already had the toilet conversation before. You have never seen anything grosser in your entire life, I swear to God. There are no truck stop restrooms anywhere in this country more disgusting than that toilet. I’d be willing to bet that the sad and sorry thing hadn’t seen the cleaning side of a scrub brush since 1986.

Del was saying that there was no way in sweet hell he was going to sit on it. I looked at him and said “90% of the time, your just facing it. I’ve got to sit 100% of the time, okay? How do you think I feel about it?”

It was really old, really gross and really rocky. I never sat on it but I did push my foot up against the side of it and I’m serious, the stupid thing rocked.

Can you imagine if someone did sit on it? They’d still be sitting on it when it fell under the trailer. It wouldn’t be an outhouse, it would be an under house.

So because the toilet was a rocker that meant the floor was really bad. There was no way to Band-Aid it, it had to be replaced.

We all spent the day ripping out and getting rid of crap. Del and Dave had a few beers to make it more fun.

More fun for me anyway.

If you know your floor is weak and you chose to get drunk while ripping it up even after I said 10000 times to watch where you are walking, when you go through it, I AM allowed to laugh.

I am not only allowed to laugh, I am allowed to laugh for the rest of the night and tell people on the internet that it happened.

I was sitting on top on the washing machine, taking a break when Dave went through it first. He only went through to just below his knee so I thought there was something under the trailer.

I was wrong. When Dave started to fall, Del had caught him by the arm. Not too long after, Del went through it and went right up to his crotch.

I was trapped on top of the washing machine. Seriously, if you were sitting there watching people being eaten by the floor, are you hopping down?

Yeah, didn’t think so.

It really did look like the trailer was snacking on the guys. Don’t eat me!

Later on, I went through the floor in the living room. Not all the way through, I think my boot saved me from that. There is a perfect boot sized dent in the living room and it’s really messing up the ghetto décor.

By the time we got the whole bathroom gutted, we were all tired. We still needed to get the materials to replace the whole thing so we were going to do it the next day.

Which was yesterday and the last day Del and I had the motel, hotel, whatever place.

So yesterday, Del and I were driving over to Lowe’s to meet Dave and buy building materials, a shower and a toilet. It ended up costing a lot more than we had figured but what can you do? You need to have a place to pooh.

There is a coffee shop up the road from where we live but I’m not getting up in the middle of the night and driving someplace to pee. I have limited my fluid intake to just above dehydration. I need a bathroom.

Peeing outside isn’t an option, there is a porcupine living in the shed. *Thump* That was his front door that fell off. I’m not dangling my bits and pieces out there, thankyouverymuch.

Anyway, I thought the brakes on the truck felt funny and mentioned it to Del who agreed.

Dave helped us figure out everything we were going to need (thank god he is a licensed plumber) and said he would meet us back at the trailer.

The truck was heavy and the breaks were still acting weird. When I got up to a stop light (the one at Funtown) the stupid break peddle went to the floor.

I wasn’t stopping, my light was red, there was a line of traffic coming out of the amusement park and to make it just that much more special, sitting across from us was a cop who was about to witness us broad siding a car full of tourist with a toilet in the bed of our truck.

I guess if your about to be in an accident, you might shit a Twinkie. I brought the potty. I’m like a fucking girl scout.

Del, who was sitting in the passenger seat, was slamming his foot down on the floor. That wasn’t helping even a little bit. He was about a second away from pulling a Fred Flintstone, opening his door and dragging his foot.

“Oh, fuck you.” I said to the truck and slammed my boot down on the emergency brake. “I don’t have time for that shit.” I said to Del who was pale and shaking.

“Nice job.” He said with a shaky voice. “I’m going to admit it, I’m impressed.”

Really? It was all I could do at that point not to jump out of the truck and flex me some mad muscles. I really am the ultimate driver. Move over Jeff Gordon, the pizza boy is in town.

I have driven some cars way past their expiration date. I only had 2 quick thoughts in my head when we were headed for the intersection. The first was that I hoped that break worked because I had a car that did the same thing and the emergency break line snapped so I had to hit a pole to stop it (it was a standard shift and I couldn’t shift it any lower – I didn’t hit the pole hard at all. It was a *thump*) and the second was that I hoped my boot was going to fit in that tiny space where the emergency break peddle was.

The stupid break lines are busted on the truck. Perfect, huh?

Crap, crap, crap. At least we got a toilet.

Del and Dave (mostly Dave) got almost the entire bathroom finished. Bathrooms in a day? Almost as impressive as my mad driving skills. The floor, shower, toilet and a wall are in, the water lines need to be hooked up and the walls need to be finished. We did find a place to crash last night but tonight, we should be able to sleep there.

The sink is going to have to wait until the money fairy visits or Del gets paid again. We can use the kitchen sink for now, if the mice don’t mind.

At least we have a place to live. In this economy, we are ahead of the game.

LYMI!

Tonight, on this episode of "The Ick Factor"

Tonight, on this episode of ‘The Ick Factor’

Alright, the night before last night, Del and I went back over to the trailer to start getting it cleaned out. We had garbage bags, hammers, a drill, a crowbar/flat-bar thing, gallons of bleach, work gloves, rubber gloves, a level (I don’t know why we had a level) and a fairly good attitude.

The fairly good attitude was tipped a bit when we opened the front door and the stench came rolling out like a wave, bowling us both backwards.

“How the hell does this keep getting worse?” Del asked me like I would have an answer to that.

I don’t. The little time I did spend in school, I never studied violent smells. I mastered more in the hiding of illegal smells.

On the other hand, I think the smell in the trailer should be considered illegal. It keeps raping me and Del in the face. It is forcing itself on us against our wills.

Del went into the smaller bedroom because we are going to use that to sleep in while we do the rest of the place. I went into the kitchen to start cleaning out the cabinets (read that as, find out what died in there).

3 garbage bags into my little search and dispose of project – which in one cabinet consisted of stacks of Time magazines from 1986, pounds of mouse turds, a typewriter, boxes of dishes, a bowl that had ketchup packets that had been chewed open (yeah, you’ll have mice if you feed them) and some stuff that was so gross it couldn’t be identified at all – I came across a nest.

I hadn’t prepared myself for a nest; I was prepared for a dead rodent.

I had myself such a girly reaction to seeing the nest; I nearly went into puberty for a second time.

*SCREECH!*

Milliseconds after finding the nest, I was standing in the doorway of the little bedroom where Del was gagging because he was pulling up the rug.

“What’s up kiddo?” Del asked me and immediately went into spitting and swinging his arms around because when he stood up, he got a face-ful of stink-age.

I needed his full attention so I waited until he cleared enough air around himself to listen to me.

“There is a nest…” I said, stammering.

“Yeah? That surprises you? Did you think they treated this place like a take-out? Of course there is a nest, they live here.” Del said.

Not - even – a – little – helpful, okay?

I was thinking that it was just a nest up until he said that. Now I was freaking out because there is a chance that they are still in there and I almost stuck my hand into it.

You know what I would do if a giant hand came into the middle of my home? I’d fight it off.

Have you ever looked inside of a mouse’s’ mouth? Their teeth are three times the size of their bodies. I don’t know how they do it, but they do. The entire anatomy of a mouse is just teeth wrapped in fur.

“I’m done with the kitchen until we get a shovel.” I said not believing that I just said that I need a shovel to clean my kitchen.

“Fair enough.” Del said. “You can help me then. Grab the drill.”

Hee-hee-hee. I love the drill.

The drill is really the only tool Del and I own. Everything else got given away when we moved to Florida. The other tools we were using were on loan from our friend Dave.

Dave, he looks kind of like a young Kyle Petty (he’s really cute-second only to Del) but behaves like MacGyver (he’s really smart- he can overhaul a car with a paperclip and a broken pen).

Del and I wouldn’t have even considered getting ourselves into this if we didn’t have Dave. Dave is awesome and only has two rules on what he won’t do. He doesn’t do heights and he doesn’t do electricity. Not that he can’t, he just won’t.

I’m learning my list. The top of mine is nest removal without a shovel.

“I need you to unscrew the vent in the floor so I can get this rug up.” Del said. I knew he really didn’t need me to do that, he was only giving me something to do that involved the drill because he knows I really like the drill.

If you want to stop reading here for a minute while you go find a drill and play with it, I’ll understand. They are tons of fun.

I got the vent out of the floor and thought it looked funny. I showed it to Del and he laughed. There is a little flap thing on it that you can close if you don’t want heat in the room. Well, not only was it broke, the flap thing was way too long and was blocking all the heat going into the living room and kitchen.

“No wonder the old man was always cold.” Del said. Then he did the bravest thing I ever saw in my life, he stuck his hand down into the hole in the floor.

I wasn’t over the nest. I’m still not over it to be perfectly honest with you. Finding a nest in your kitchen just isn’t something you get over, ever.

There was about 47 years worth of dirt in there and a very, dirty quarter. It was so dirty that we couldn’t even identify it as a quarter until Del wiped in on the carpet.

“Ever see anything like that in your life?” Del asked me.

Nope. I really hoped I never would again, but I was wrong.

We got the carpet pulled up and found that someone had thrown it down over linoleum. They didn’t even sweep the floor before they did it either. We assessed the room and decided that it wasn’t that bad and we should be able to get it clean enough to put an air mattress down to sleep on for now.

It needs a little work but nothing that can’t wait for a minute. Del dragged the carpet outside and I followed him with the drill- just in case.

We both walked back in the front door and were slapped again with the smell.

“I can’t take it.” Del said and started ripping the plastic off the windows in the living room. I put the drill down and started to rip the plastic off the other window across from him when mine got stuck on something. (We still had all the old guys’ furniture too. My plastic was behind a chair.)

What the hell?

I pulled it harder and the electrical outlet in the wall came out.

Uh oh.

I must be the strongest gimp in the world? My super-powers include the ability to endanger the lives of everyone around me that is not grounded.

“Uh, Del?” I said looking at the dangling outlet. I was scared. All I know about outlets is you aren’t supposed to stick butter knives in them and I learned that as a child in the hardest way possible to learn that lesson.

I’ve been scared of electrical outlets since then. I can’t even change the cover to them. I break out in a sweat. Sweat and a metal screwdriver near electricity? Yeah, I’m thinking no to that one.

So that would be number 2 on my list of things I don’t do.

The outlet was attached to the plastic that I was still holding in my hands. I dropped it just as Del came over to see what I did.

“Don’t touch it!” I yelled at him.

He rolled his eyes at me and I walked outside. I didn’t want to watch my husband die.

A few minutes later, Del came outside with the drill in his hand. “Where are you going with that and can I come too?” I asked him.

“I’m unlocking the hillbilly windows.” Del said as he started drilling out the screws in the kitchen window. He put the drill over one of the screws and it popped out and went back in. (The drill has a magnetic bit on it)

“Did you see that?” Del asked me.

I did but I was confused as to why it happened. I never got the drill to do that trick.

Del pulled the screw out with his fingers and held it up. The screw was about 1/8 of an inch long.

Both of us started laughing really hard. It was funny because before that, we had unscrewed 4 foot spikes out of the walls inside. It doesn’t seem like there is a single nail in the place. The old guy even hung up his pictures with screws.

Del let me unscrew the screws I could reach. When the final screw came out of one of the windows, the thing popped open like it was gasping for air.

Either that or the smell was fighting to get out of there and pushed the window open.

Personally, I’d bet on that.

As we opened the last window, our friend Paul showed up. Paul was a friend of my dad’s and has kind of taken his place in Del and my lives.

Paul is a very big man. He stands about 6’ 7” tall. When he came inside, the top of his head was only inches from the ceiling. If we installed ceiling fans, it would decapitate Paul.

Paul has a dog, a tiny little tea-cup sized dog. I adore that dog but it scares me because it follows Paul around like it attached to him and Paul’s foot is twice the size of the dog. If he ever stepped on it, he would end his life.

“I’m going to help you load up this couch in the back of your truck. Go around the corner and unload this shit into the dumpster.” Paul said.

I felt that was a great plan. I could show the dog the drill while he was gone.

Del came back from unloading the truck. He and Paul loaded up the nasty couch and the rotten rugs into the back.

You have heard of a traveling circus? We became a traveling smell.

We had to drive back to the hotel, motel whatever…and it was too late and too dark to unload the mess in the back of the truck. We had been in our room for about ½ an hour when I went outside to get a bucket of ice.

I…wanted…to…die.

Our room was on the second floor and you could smell the freaking truck up there. Like heat, stink rises. Del and I were sure we were going to be escorted out by the police for face-raping the other guests.

At least we are learning where the smell was coming from.

More soon.

LYMI!

Moving, moving, moving...

Moving, moving, moving, got to keep on moving, moving, moving, moving, yee-haw. Pack it up, load it up, ship it out, have a drink, we are moving again.

Okay, I’m a storyteller, not a song writer.

Get your redneck jokes out now, I have stuff to tell you.

So the good news, Del and I bought a refrigerator, a washer and dryer and a stove.

The bad news, it all has a trailer wrapped around it.

Well, that’s not really bad news. I mean, it’s a hell of a lot better than living in a hotel, motel or what the hell ever it is we are living in now. The place is called the Grand Beach Inn so there is no clue there, right?

And it’s most certainly better than living under a bridge, yes?

We got a crazy cheap deal on the place (talking 3 digits baby). Why? ‘Cuz it’s a total shit-hole. Shit-hole isn’t even a very good description of it either. Worse than a shit-hole, so whatever that word is, it’s outside of my vocabulary.

The guy that sold it to us was an older disabled gentleman who couldn’t keep up with it anymore. It just got away from him over the last couple of years.

The ceiling in it waves at us. At least it’s a friendly trailer.

(Note * the roof was repaired, the interior was ignored.)

Del and I were over there tonight (we have until Sunday to get out of here). I was sitting outside on the deck – because I needed air and whatever is floating around inside there is not air. Del was standing inside, ewwwwing.

My poor germ-a-phobic husband is shatting a cat.

There was a *thump* sound over to my left. It sounded like a body hit the ground or something. Del asked “What the hell was that?”

I looked over and saw the door to our shed laying on the ground. Just like that- *thump*, door on the ground.

I have no idea why but that made me totally lose it. I mean, I laughed so hard I almost gave myself a horrible case of the hic-cups. Even now, just writing about it - *thump*- makes me giggle.

It’s kind of like the poor thing has given up all hope.

There is an odor of some kind that hasn’t yet been identified beyond disgusting. We were going to open all the windows and air it out but every window we went to wouldn’t open. They are the older than dirt, trailer windows with the cranks on them.

Oh my God, my windows have cranks. I remember bitching about having weights in the windows last year. I’ve downgraded to cranks.

There is only one window that still has the crank on it but it wouldn’t budge open. We couldn’t get it off to try it on the other ‘supposed to have a crank but doesn’t for some odd reason’ windows. I went outside and look at the window…

It is screwed shut. Why? No, I’m asking. Why would someone screw a window shut from the outside? It can’t be a hillbilly version of locks, can it?

So the windows haven’t been opened for a very, very long time.

And the elderly, smoking man that lived there had a dog. Maybe a pack of dogs, I don’t know. He left a lot of crap behind because he couldn’t get rid of it (and Del and I are suckers so we are stuck getting rid of it, hoo-ray).

The cupboards are just smashed full of junk. We opened the one under the sink in the kitchen and I’m taking bets on what the hell is dead under there. I’m thinking it’s a mouse. I’m a farm girl; I know the stench of a rotten critter when I smell it.

Del and I were in one of the bedrooms and started to pull up the carpet. When he yanked up his side the smell that came *screaming* out from under it, reached up and bitch-slapped me upside of my forehead, right between the eyes.

You can understand that I don’t want to go back in there until I get a haz-mat suit, right?

It will be okay though. The trailer lives in Maine so everything will be fine. If it lived in Florida, that would be different. God hates Florida trailers; he throws them into the ocean.

Our house has a hitch on it. Nothing is forever. This –as bad as it sounds – is just our stepping stone. As a matter of fact, that is what we named it. (Hey, boats can have names so trailers can too.)

LYMI!

Our future rock star!

Listen to him when he hits the cymbal. ROTF! Yay!

Have ya met my grandson?

This is Dominic (DJ) and he is 2 1/2 years old. Isn't he just the sweetest baby in the world?

I know just by watching this 20 second video that you can tell right away that he is the smartest, funniest, most talented child evah.

I could just squish him up and put him in my pocket.

Love him, mean it. :-)