My trusty companion, the big assed truck that hauls my home around, goes into surgery to have the driver side door repaired (‘we will repair the door from the core’, so stated the technician that spoke with me), and it only takes five working days. Kee-rist! Everything is removed from the door – and the back door – and they are sanded down and the paint is blended so one will never know that I, Ms. Dumbutt, injured it. The lower hinge may also be replaced as the door is slightly ‘SPRUNG’. I must ask them to check out the roof also (roof courtesy of Caesars), and see how much/what/where it will take to return the Silver Steed to its original state. All in all, I’m renting an economy car during the time the Steed is in for repair and cosmetic surgery. I’m not sure I can drive a little, teensy shit car. This is going to be a toughie.
On a note of Fifth Wheels and things I would never expect – The hitch on the coach extends from a small, metal, black box – the box contains a storage space for the electrical cord that connects the fifth wheel to the truck, allowing the coach to show brake lights, turn signals, etc. and also holds a ‘break away’ cord that is hooked onto the truck. If the ‘break away’ cord is pulled, the brakes automatically stop the coach. Yes…I do expect all of this; it’s the next part that gets into the meat of where I’m going.
Along with all the noise from NV Power, a few days ago I climbed into bed, thinking to rest a few hours before the noise started and – out of nowhere, I hear birds land on my roof. They don’t daintily come in for landing and just silently drop. They hit with a thud and then do a running catch up to momentum type of thing…and I can hear their running little feet. Then the ‘cooing’ starts. Damn pigeons. They shit on everything and get on my nerves. I jumped up, raced out with a plastic, empty, Dasini water bottle, and pitched it at two of them that were looking over the roof of my house – at me! Like I was an intruder. I yelled, “Get the hell out of here!” as I fired the projectile towards the roof. They scattered.
I no sooner returned to my quiet, darkened sleep than I heard them land again. Hello earplugs. Later in the day, afternoon type of time, I went out to open the valves for the dark/gray water on the coach. A pigeon was on the ground, underneath the hitch box, and another pigeon seemed to appear magically out of thin air, almost as if Lance Burton was somewhere in the area. I couldn’t quite put it together. Why were these damn birds hanging around when I’d been in the RV Park for over two months now and hadn’t had any problem before?
The next day, I returned from having eaten at a local spot, walking around the end of the coach to find a pigeon on the ground, underneath the hitch, with a twig in its beak. And as soon as I got close to the hitch, another pigeon flew out of the black box with the electrical wires in it. Umnhhh! The light bulb went off. I put a piece of cardboard over the opening and went inside. I heard them ‘thunk’ a couple of times as they flew into the cardboard. Later in the afternoon, when I exited the coach, three of them were walking around on the ground underneath the hitch. It appeared to be a meeting of the minds, as if they were figuring out how to remove the obstacles to the place they had chosen to nest in. I shooed them away. They haven’t returned now in two days…not even landing on the roof of the coach. Thank you, God!
And no…they didn’t have a nest built and there were no eggs laid. But what if there were? I’m going to be on the move. I can’t house a nest full of pigeons…and I don’t want to. Let them go shit somewhere else.
And on the ‘Olympus Master’ – I finally found the photos under: C:Documents and SettingsLinda GeenenApplication DataOLYMPUSOLYMPUS Masterstore20060318220640. I didn’t find the photos because a search showed anything. I kept snooping all the hide out areas on the hard drive and finally came across this. But I still lost the ones I downloaded from the camera and the Big Deuce game on Sunday night. And another funny thing on the Big Deuce game. We were playing six handed, using two decks – that means two dead hands. I dealt. I ended up with an extra card that should have gone into the dead hand stack. I actually counted my cards, looked at my hand, and discarded the one I didn’t want – into the dead hand stack. Not one of my comrades even noticed. I couldn’t stand it. I told everyone that it was a misdeal, explaining what I had done. They all argued with me, no one cared (maybe Wayne didn’t argue), it was hysterically funny. Finally I went with the decision that we would play our hands. Bottom line is I cheated, I told on myself, and they all could care less. How bad is that? *laughing my ass off*
I made it to work; Bellagio’s Poker Room is still there…I’m not. A game was running in Bobby’s Room. If my memory is working, Jennifer Harman, Daniel Negreanu, David Benyamine, Chip Reese, Doyle Brunson…were in the game.
I jumped out to play. I was in a $4-8H game for about two hours and then off the clock. Will she ever deal again? Unknown at this time.
During the time I was in the game, a cutie named Anne came up and introduced herself to me. She was in town, on vacation, with her mom, and she came to Bellagio to play $2-5 NLH and to meet me. Sweet! I sat behind her for a few minutes while she played and from the amount of chips in front of her, she had total GAME CONTROL. Good going, Anne, and thanks for introducing yourself to me.