No, no, no.

She's trying to kill me. I swear.

Foiled Again.

So in a fit of Mother Nature fuckery, we lost power for three hours last night. I wasn't doing much, just hanging out with that guy in Nerdcraft, but it still sucked balls. I have to admit it wasn't the dark that really made things gross, though - it was the water. Three inches in my basement. Yeah, apparently the brain surgeons who lived in our house before us didn't reconnect the sump pump when they took their dehumidifier out, nor did they tell us they were going to half-ass it and just leave tubes coiled up underneath the stairs.

Water. Everywhere.

I wanted to punch Misses Swanson, the nice old lady who sold us this place, in the baby maker. That wouldn't have been nice, but man it would have felt good.

It really didn't help that our back door is leaking water to all hell too. Nothing a wad of sheets didn't take care of, but with no power, water already abounding, and a whole lot of nothing to do at nine o'clock, I think both of us were ready to explode.

I suspect we've got some home repair in front of us.

/whirly finger

For Lewis.

Look Ma, It's Weasels! Also, I can't put into words what this link did to me. There are things that do not go together - oil and water, Marty and Ann Coulter, Lauren and the people who try to do her pedicures. This kid and gangsta muzak might be in the same niche, but I'm not sure.

Little Black Boy Point.

Okay, so there are many things to say about the vacation I went on, but by far one of my favorite things is Little Black Boy Point. (This post, by the way? Yeah, not so ethnically correct. BUT! I promise there is no malice to any of the racially charged stuff.) Here's the 411- Wisconsin has no black people. It also doesn't have any Asian people. In fact, it has about 80 percent Caucasian blonds and a few brunettes here and there for for spice. According to Marty, the local strip club (Weasels - great name, ain't it?) has a few folks of color but that's it. So yeah, the strippers? They MIGHT be non-white. Everyone else is definitely Master Race material.

It's a little disturbing.

Anywho, we're driving around Three Lakes in this positively amazing boat. No, said boat didn't do dishes or dance. What made it amazing is the fact I never once A) vomited on it, or B) nearly vomited on it. That's huge. I perpetually get motion sick. This is not the point if this story, though. The point is the ONLY black 'person' I saw my entire vacation was a tacky little black man statue carved out of wood. It was propped up at the end of some stranger's dock to appear like it was fishing. The thing was totally dressed in like, deep south stereo-type slave garb, complete with wide brimmed hat and overalls. Officer Gleason informed us that Little Black Boy had a Little Black Girl wife, but no one knows what the hell happened to the Misses.

I suspect foul play.

This was the least politically correct thing I've seen in a long time, and I could NOT STOP LAUGHING about it.

I've actually proposed to my vacation buddies that we steal the little black dude and paint him pink next year. The next morning we could replace him exactly where he was the night before. Thus, it's no longer stealing so much as uhh, borrowing. That's not illegal, right?

Right.