Probably the same clown that said, “Cinderella, your glass slipper is ready!”

“Ah-h-h-h-h-h!  Come on Valentine, show me a little love!” 

“Get those slippers on and start your yard work now!”

There must be a chimney there somewhere, with ashes and coals laying around, but it just looks like lumps of desert silt and mud.  My slippers are a bit too large but they work well with shoveling the ground from hell.  If the sky keeps crying, I won’t be shoveling so it works.

Here are a few shots of the mini-lakes forming around the property.  And this shot, where the keyhole tile is stacked, will be my patio/chimenea area at some point.  That old trailer is right at the back of the property, dragged down from MT with the truck driving duo, it will be Monte’s work shop at some point.  Back behind the mesquites along the back fence is where the tree was planted last week, and the other four will space out evenly to the left, along the fence, if the rain ever quits…of course the picture was taken to show the standing pools of water.  This is the bad neighbor’s combo gumbo back yard.  The paved street in front of the place, and a standing pool where I had removed two trees earlier this year and planted them by the coach.

Upon waking up yesterday early a.m. and opening my bedroom blind (I’m about 6 feet off the ground and can easily see over the block wall), the bad neighbors had managed to pull their blue truck into the combo gumbo of their front yard.  Notice in the picture that across the way is a white house, these are a very quiet, orderly couple…good neighbors. As the day progressed, two of the bad neighbors went out and tried to drive the blue truck out of the gumbo, to no avail, as it sank deeper and deeper and was soon almost high centered in it.  They dug, they threw boards under the tires, one tried to push while the other hit the gas and rocked back and forth and it just got worse.

I was working at the computer and went to look out the window now and then as they took breaks and then came back again and again revving the engine, rocking the truck, sliding into the mess further and further.  I kinda felt that karma had stuck them, they are horrible neighbors with no concern for anyone who lives around them, vehicles in and out at all hours, music blaring,  and they aren’t friendly.  When my nephew was out one time visiting his mom, they didn’t mind asking him if he would jump their car for them.  He did.  Another time they wanted to know if I had jumper cables – they asked across the field fence – and I loaned them my jump start, but they never wave, never try to tone down their BS noise or act like they give a shit about anyone but their own – and they fight.  It’s nothing for them to be out in the yard swearing and having a scream out with each other.  And who knows how many people actually live there?  There are new cars every day it seems and early a.m. sometimes 2 or 3 new rigs are in the yard. Yeah…I kinda have an idea of what gives over there.

So…either I got sick of listening to the whine of the engine or my humanitarian side kicked in.  I slipped on my tennies and my flannel shirt, grabbed the truck keys and went out to stand by the field fence, waiting for the engine to stop whining as one stood with his back to me and watched the other try to rock the truck out of the death grip the gumbo had on it.  As soon as the engine stopped, I yelled, “HEY!”

It’s an attention getter.

The watcher turned around.  I asked how solid the ground was up alongside the house.  He said it was pretty firm, they had parked cars there before.  I replied, “Yeah, you guys have more traffic than Las Vegas.”

They both did a tee hee kind of thing – like, ‘ain’t we cool?’

I told them I had a chain, I’d back in and pull them out from behind if they had something to hook the chain to so it didn’t pull the bumper off.  There’s no way to pull the rig out to the main road due to field fence and poles. I did exactly that.  I hooked the chain to the front of my truck, one of them slid around in the mud under the bumper of the blue truck and hooked ‘er up.  I put the steed into tow haul and 4 wheel drive and backed up gently as the kid revved the engine and did all kinds of theatrics that weren’t even necessary, of course it caused the blue truck to slide sideways, but I popped that thing out of the gumbo in about 30 seconds.  Love the Steed!

The one that had been standing watching, unhooked the chain and put it in the back of my truck, and said, “Thank you very much!”  The other little wharf rat just gave me a wave like it was my job.  Oh well…I can’t be shitty to people just cause they’re stoooopid!  I waved back and went home…damn I’m so happy to be me and not trapped in one of those existences that have no back-up plan.

A cute Riot story.  He left his tooth under the pillow at his moms.  He found some $.  He told her to tell the Tooth Fairy he wanted his tooth back and if she didn’t bring it, to call the cops.  He’s already got a new tooth showing where the old one came out.

Kinda wanted to laugh about the goings on in the forums and all the noise about Cake Poker suffering a glitch that awarded the pot to the losing hand.  It happened on UB Poker last year when the pot was  awarded to Phil Hellmuth who held the losing hand (talk about favoritism).   I clearly won a pot at Party Poker in 2005, the board cards and my hand stayed up for 10 minutes, and then dealer chat came across the table that the hand was a misdeal and everyone got their money back.  You can read it here along with the email from Party Poker!

G’nite kids!